The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,120

to fire at the slightest sign of movement. Along the cutting, other squad members did the same, covering Perez as he ran into the open to drag the pilot back to cover. The Russian screamed again, his cry echoing off the ruined buildings.

Adam raised his own pistol. Where was al-Rais? What was he planning? Would he attack Perez and the pilot while they were vulnerable in the open? No, the terrorist’s persona told him. Even if I hit them, the moment I fire the Americans will shoot back. All I have to do is stop them from reaching the plane, and wait until Sevnik arrives . . .

He was covering the jetty, then. From where? A clear vantage point, but with cover. The wooden walls would give no protection against rifle bullets. Adam looked along the icy shore to the south. There was a small hut behind the former mine offices. Near it was a pile of snow-covered debris; broken wood, garbage—

Something moved behind it.

Adam fired three shots. The shape ducked, then reappeared, running for the hut. Adam fired again, but al-Rais had already thrown himself behind the little structure.

‘Watch Tony,’ Adam told Baxter as he ran to Bianca. Perez pulled the pilot behind the scrap pile. ‘He’s behind that building!’ he warned the troops, pointing.

‘Adam, I’ve just spotted the Hind,’ Kyle said.

‘How long before it gets here?’

‘A few minutes, but it’s coming at full steam. You’ve got to get out of there.’

‘That’s the plan. Bianca, are you ready?’

She regarded the writhing pilot, appalled. ‘We can’t make a transfer from him! He’s been shot!’

‘Yeah, and we’ll be shot in about three minutes if you don’t. The gunship’s coming back!’

She hesitated, then began to put the skullcap on the Russian’s head. He cried out, babbling. ‘Hold him down,’ she told Perez.

Adam took the jet injector from the case, then sat with his back against the scrap pile. ‘This is still set for the right dose, yes?’

‘It should be,’ Bianca replied. He brought the device to his neck. ‘No, wait! I’ll do it.’

‘No time.’ He gasped at the sharp pain, then lay back and waited for the drug to take effect.

He felt al-Rais’s persona clawing at his mind, desperate to hold on as the Neutharsine washed through it. But even the terrorist leader’s willpower was not enough to resist the chain reaction of chemical processes. The other voice in his head seemed to scream before dissolving to nothingness . . .

‘Adam!’ He opened his eyes to see Bianca leaning over him anxiously, and realised that his own skullcap was now in place. ‘Did it work? Is al-Rais’s persona gone?’

‘I . . . I think so.’ He tried to think of the Saudi’s parents, his lovers. No memories came to him. ‘Are you ready?’

She had the other injector primed with a dose of Hyperthymexine. ‘Yes, but . . . he’s injured, I don’t know what’ll happen. It might kill him!’

‘It’s our only chance. Do it!’

Reluctantly, she injected the co-pilot. He let out a gurgling shriek, flecks of spittle around his mouth tinged with blood. Bianca grimaced, then activated the PERSONA.

At the jetty, Tony struggled to sit up. ‘John,’ he groaned. ‘Give me a hand.’

Baxter pulled him into a crouch. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m gonna need a truckload of Advil, but I’ll live.’ He reached into his coat and took out his silenced SIG. ‘Where’s al-Rais?’

‘Somewhere behind that building.’

‘Adam?’

‘With Childs. They’re using the machine on the pilot.’

‘Damn it. I told him – never mind.’ His headset had been dislodged; he fumbled it back into place. ‘Holly Jo, Kyle, what’s the situation?’

‘Chopper’s coming in fast,’ Kyle warned.

‘Okay, whatever happens here, you need to be ready to get into the air. Tell the pilot to start the engines and stand by. If you lose contact with us, then he takes off immediately and heads back to US airspace at maximum speed. Understand?’

‘But we can’t leave you behind,’ protested Holly Jo.

‘If that Hind does what it was designed to do, there won’t be anything of us left behind. That’s an order, okay? Tell him to power up, now.’

‘What do we tell the Russians?’

‘Anything you have to. Just get the plane ready for takeoff. Out.’ He exchanged a grim look with Baxter, then they turned their eyes and weapons back to the search for al-Rais.

Despite the cold, Bianca was sweating. She watched the columns of scrolling figures with a growing sense of hopelessness. ‘Come on, faster,’ she muttered, willing the numbers to speed up – but knowing that they