through his ribcage, and into the back of his head, splattering brain, blood, bone, and bits of helmet everywhere.
All the while, the snipers continued to fire, unable to get an accurate fix on him. Curtains of snow obstructed their view, as powerful gusts of wind buffeted the helo.
Rolling back behind the sled, Harvath ejected his magazine, slammed home a fresh one, and dragged Jompá closer, hoping to save him. There was nothing Harvath could do for him, though. The man was dead.
Popping up from behind the sled, and using the oblong slab of moose on the other side for concealment, he went full auto and emptied his magazine into the cockpit of the helicopter, before disappearing back down again.
Doing another magazine change, he scanned his surroundings. They were out in the open, which was an absolute death sentence when dealing with a helicopter. They needed to get to the trees.
He called out to Christina and Olá, but neither of them replied. He prayed it was only because they couldn’t hear him.
Rising into a crouch, he popped up once more and began firing as he ran back to the second sled.
Sliding in next to it like a baseball player stealing home, he ejected the magazine from his AK-15 and rocked in another.
“Christina!” he yelled over the sound of the helicopter as it swung around in an attempt to provide its snipers with a better angle. “Christina!”
Peeking behind the sled, he saw Olá lying facedown in the snow, bleeding. Harvath didn’t need to roll him over to know that, like his brother, he was also dead. The snipers had taken both of them out.
“I can’t get out,” Christina shouted. “The slab won’t move. It’s stuck.”
Lifting up the reindeer hide, he peered underneath and saw the problem. The edge was jammed between two of the bed’s supports.
“I’m going to lift it. When I do, roll toward me as fast as you can. Okay?”
Christina nodded.
“On three,” yelled Harvath, as he planted his boots and leaned into the slab. “One. Two. Three!”
It was incredibly heavy, just like the one he had hidden under. He was only able to raise it a few inches, but it was enough for Christina to get out, pulling her rifle behind her.
Before she could even thank him, she saw Olá. She tried to go to him, but Harvath stopped her.
“They’re both dead,” he said. “We need to get to the trees.”
“How?”
“You go first and I’ll cover you. Ready?”
Christina nodded and once again, Harvath counted to three and yelled for her to run.
As she took off, he popped up from behind the sled and began firing, successfully putting several rounds into the side of the helo, forcing it to swing away from them.
Once he saw that she was safe, he pointed at the helicopter and instructed her to start shooting. The moment she did, he ran back to Jompá’s sled. He needed his rucksack.
Sliding again to safety, he reached inside and pulled it out. Now, all he had to do was make it to the trees.
The helicopter, though, had shifted into a new position, one that was going to make it very difficult for Christina to engage from her position.
He was getting ready to jump up and fire at it himself when she stepped out from behind the trees and began shooting.
It was an incredibly courageous move, and one that he didn’t waste. Hopping to his feet, he ran faster than he could ever remember having run in his life.
He got to her just as her weapon ran dry and together they bolted into the trees as the snipers began to return fire.
The bullets tore off pieces of bark and sent snow flying all around them. Up ahead, Harvath could see a small rock outcropping. He pointed at it and shouted for her to keep running. “No matter what, don’t stop!”
She did as he ordered and didn’t notice until she got there that he had stopped to return fire on the helicopter.
It seemed like a suicide mission to her. Hovering above the trees, the snipers rained down bullets, slicing through the branches and coming very close to hitting, and likely even killing him.
Harvath, though, was equally dangerous to the helicopter. He not only found his target, but also put no fewer than two rounds through its belly.
Whether those rounds penetrated into the cabin and took out any of the mercenaries on board, he couldn’t be sure. What he did know was that he had burned through precious ammo, but once again