had succeeded in beating the helicopter back and forcing it to break contact.
As the helo temporarily disengaged, Harvath rushed for the outcropping.
“We’re not going to have long,” he said, as he changed magazines and tried to catch his breath.
“They can’t get to us here, can they?” Christina asked.
“Not with the helicopter. They’ll come in on foot. At least one group from uphill, so they can shoot down on us. Another will come in on one of our flanks.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to fight,” he replied, pulling the few magazines he had left from his rucksack and handing one to her.
“But I don’t know how,” she insisted, and for the first time, he saw the fear written across her face.
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “Listen to me,” he said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”
She believed him and, slowly, she nodded.
Turning his attention back to his preparations, he pulled the satellite phone from his coat pocket, extended the antenna, and powered it up.
He waited for several moments, but the device failed to acquire a signal. There was too much tree cover. He had no way of giving Nicholas an update on their situation.
As he powered the device off and returned it to his pocket, he heard the helicopter stop and hover up the slope from where they were. The pilots must have found a big enough break in the trees, through which men could rappel.
After inspecting and reloading Christina’s rifle, he handed it back to her. “Get ready,” he said. “They’re coming.”
CHAPTER 68
* * *
* * *
I don’t care what’s going on down there,” Haney said, his face a steely, don’t-fuck-with-me mask. “You land this plane right now.”
When Pavel refused to comply, Staelin, who was sitting right behind him, pulled out his H&K pistol and pressed the barrel right up against the back of the bush pilot’s head.
During his initial flyover to check for obstructions on the ice, they had passed over the top of the Wagner helicopter and had seen shots being fired. It had frightened Pavel enough that he was now trying to abort the landing.
But as Haney and Staelin were making perfectly clear, despite the language barrier, they weren’t aborting anything.
Resigning himself to what he was being forced to do, the pilot swung the plane around, decreased its airspeed, and prepared to land.
The Pilatus touched down with only a light skip of its skis on the snow. It was one of the best landings any of them had ever experienced. Pavel might have been a terrible alcoholic, but he was a terrific pilot.
When he tried to pull back on the throttle to slow down, Haney put his hand over Pavel’s and pushed it forward, forcing him to speed up.
With his free hand, Haney pointed at the very end of the ice. Bullets be damned, that’s where they were headed. He wanted the team dropped off as close to Harvath as possible. The bush pilot did the only thing he could do—he obeyed.
When they were almost at the shore, Haney allowed Pavel to finally slow the aircraft down. He even allowed him to turn it around, so that it was ready for takeoff when they returned.
As the team raced to unload their gear, Haney gave the Russian a final warning. Whether the man could understand his English or not didn’t matter. He could understand his tone.
“Don’t you fucking go anywhere,” he ordered, poking his finger into the man’s chest. “Remember, we know where you live.”
The look on the bush pilot’s face made it clear that the message had been received. Reaching over, he killed the plane’s engine and held his hands up in mock surrender.
Hopping onto the ice, Haney slung his large pack, clicked into his ski bindings, and hailed the tactical operations center of the Joint Special Operations Command at Fort Bragg in North Carolina as they raced toward the woods.
To limit the number of cooks in the kitchen, JSOC had been assigned to coordinate this phase of Harvath’s rescue.
Haney engaged in a very quick back-and-forth. He let them know that they had landed safely and were inbound to Harvath. JSOC let Haney know what Harvath’s last position was and what kind of force was arrayed against him.
Everyone else on The Carlton Group team was listening to the report over their headsets. There was no need for Haney to repeat any of it.
On point, Sloane Ashby had a wrist-top computer strapped to the outside