Page 60 of Fire and Ice

Maia zipped around the black boat in a wide arc assessing the threat. There were three men, all outfitted in all-black commando gear.

Bullets started flying past her and actually grazed the side of her jet ski. She increased her speed so she was about 30 degrees to the left and about 50 feet in front of them. Maia twisted her torso and raised her arm to start firing behind her. The water was rough and the jet ski was unstable, so her shots were hitting the water or just the side of the boat. It was also difficult to keep an eye on where she was going and shooting behind her. It would have been easier for her to fall behind the black boat and shoot, but she did not want to leave Taylor's boat without a buffer.

"Damn!" Maia cursed then looked backed to see the mercenaries gaining on all of them. She had to maneuver her jet ski in an unpredictable pattern to avoid getting hit by their sniper. She felt the blood drain from her face when she saw one of them raise an RPG to his shoulder aiming for Taylor's speed boat which was already in range. There was only one thing left to do.

Her mind firmly set, Maia eased up on the gas and swerved her jet ski in the direction of the black boat. The mercenaries were startled by her aggressive move and started firing at her when it dawned on them what she intended to do. The guy with the RPG shifted his position and fixed his sights on her. Maia went full-throttle and rammed her jet ski into the black boat.

***

The gunman was hiding behind one of the big oaks. It was the last of them, and he should have figured out that he wasn't going anywhere near his vehicle because Brody had it within shooting distance.

The front of the stonehouse had been shot up. All windows were broken, the inside was probably riddled with bullets. But it had been a one-sided fight. It had been apparent within the first few minutes of the firefight that Jack's team was superior.

Six men had assaulted the stonehouse, six very inexperienced thugs. What baffled Jack was that the Russian would send a crew such as this. They had come in all guns blazing without any semblance of strategy. It was like watching a video game in which the bad guys jumped out from behind a wall (or in this case a tree), started shooting, and then jumped back into hiding. What message was the Russian sending?

"You're surrounded, you might as well give up," Jack called out. What was the guy waiting for? It was like he was stalling. Did he think they couldn't wait him out? They could of course smoke him out with a hail of gun fire, but Jack wanted answers and didn't want to risk fatally wounding the last gunman.

Police sirens started blaring in the distance.Took them long enough, Jack thought.

"Hear that? The police are on their way. You've got nowhere to go, best for you to surrender. If you've got more buddies coming they aren't ..." Jack didn't finish his sentence because a muffled but very distinct explosion rumbled in the distance.

"What the hell was that?" Jack shouted in alarm.

"That's your boat exploding," the last gunman said smugly. He came out from his cover, his hand held high in surrender. "We were just the distraction to split up your men. We knew you had an escape route behind the house."

"Secure him!" Jack yelled to the bodyguards as he darted around the house towards the edge of the cliff and stared in horrific disbelief at the fiery debris on the ocean. Hell no! Not again. This was not happening again. His parents, Brett and ... Maia. His Maia.

Jack shakily pulled out his comms. "Taylor, come in ... Taylor, God damn it!"

Static. Jack couldn't breathe. He had never felt such paralyzing fear in his life. Nothing compared. Not what had happened twelve years before. Not his most harrowing missions as a SEAL. Nothing.

"Jack," Taylor's voice came over the radio. Jack could hear the distinct sound of his mom wailing in the background, plus a couple of voices. Thank God. Oh. Thank. God.

"What the fuck was that explosion?" Jack growled through comms, his relief quickly being replaced by anger. "Is everyone okay?"

"We were pursued by enemy fire, there was a black speed boat," Taylor began, his voice shaken.

Fear crept back in as he rephrased his question, "Was anyone hurt?"

Silence.

"Taylor, was anyone hurt?"

"Maia went after them in the jet ski," Taylor continued. Jack closed his eyes, his chest constricting tightly as he dreaded Taylor's next words.

"I'm sorry, Jack. They were gaining on us, they had an RPG," Taylor's voice cracked. "Maia drove her jet ski into their boat."

Fuck. Damn you, Maia. Jack felt the back of his eyes stinging.

Jack returned to the stonehouse. It was close to midnight, six hours after the explosion of the black boat. He had just gotten back from doing search and rescue operations with the U.S. Coast Guard. The waves were starting to get rough from the oncoming Nor'Easter, so they had had to call off the search. They found only two male remains and a bunch of debris from the black boat and the jet ski. There were no signs of Maia or the third person from the boat.

The Coast Guard was pessimistic about any possibility of there being any survivors. After his initial reaction, Jack would not give up hope: he demanded proof, he would not believe she was dead until he saw a body.

Derek had called him a few minutes before. Viktor was concerned because an alarm had gone off in their system indicating that Maia's phone had gone off the grid. Jack told him the news.

Derek, after muttering a string of expletives, said, "I'm with you, Jack. I don't care what the fucking Coast Guard says. This is Maia we're talking about. She's been in worse scrapes than this. She jumped off a low flying helicopter once before it smashed into the mountain."

Jesus Christ, Jack thought.

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