The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,121

wouldn’t.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at the pilot, shuddering in the snow. Instead she checked Adam. His eyes were flickering as he took in the Russian’s memories. Another look at the screen. What had been normal was now excruciatingly slow. ‘Come on!’

Perez scuttled from the scrap pile to duck behind an overturned mine cart some forty feet away. Rifle raised, he surveyed the woods opposite before glancing up at the mine. ‘Dr Childs – you’d better move back into the trees.’

‘I can’t leave them,’ she protested, indicating the two men beside her.

‘You need to get out of sight.’ A distant drumming became audible, the rapid tattoo echoing off the surrounding hills. ‘We’re about to have company!’

With a despairing look at Adam, Bianca unwillingly backed up to the trees. The sound grew louder—

The gunship rose over the summit like a bird of prey and swooped down towards the lake.

Fire flashed from the Hind’s nose with a fearsome chainsaw rasp as its twin-barrelled autocannon spewed out fifty rounds every second. A line of eruptions ripped along the ground. They raced towards the Vityaz – which shook under the metallic hammer-blows before disintegrating in a blinding fireball, a black mushroom cloud swelling skywards.

But the line didn’t stop there. It raced snake-like through the cutting, hunting for prey – then finding it, and striking.

The cart was no protection against the gunship’s explosive 30mm rounds. They ripped through it, shattering the corroded steel – and hitting the man behind it. Perez didn’t even have time to scream as he was torn apart by shells and shrapnel.

And the deadly serpent raced on, seeing more victims ahead – the pilot and Adam, lying helpless on the ground—

The line of fire suddenly swerved. Shells hit the pile of rusted scrap rather than the men behind it as the Hind banked. The gunship blasted overhead, rotor wash kicking up a freezing whirlwind of snow in its wake. It crossed the shoreline and headed out over the lagoon, beginning a long, sweeping turn for a second attack.

The downdraught had dislodged lumps of snow from the trees, leaving Bianca covered. Coughing, she shook off the icy deposits and looked out with trepidation into the cutting. To her relief, Adam was unharmed – but the sight of what was left of Perez almost made her vomit. Acidic bile burning in her throat, she stumbled out into the open and crouched beside the agent, wiping snow off the PERSONA.

The activity on the screen was dying down. Heart pounding, Bianca pulled off a glove and stabbed at the keyboard. CALCULATING LATENCY ESTIMATES. The figures finally appeared. They were only just within the limits she had been taught were acceptable – but she didn’t care. ‘Adam, wake up!’

She tugged at the skullcap. Adam stirred – and sprang upright with an anguished scream. Bianca fell backwards in fright. He clutched at his side, wailing in Russian – then stopped, panting.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Bianca gasped.

‘His strongest memory – it’s being shot!’ He looked down at himself, almost surprised to find that he was unhurt. ‘I thought I’d been shot too.’

‘You nearly were! The helicopter – it killed Perez!’ Keeping her eyes averted, she pointed towards the mine carts.

‘Jesus,’ said Adam as he saw the dead man. He looked for the Hind. It was still making its turn; the heavily armoured flying tank did not possess dragonfly manoeuvrability. ‘Get the gear packed up. We’ve got to get to the plane.’

‘Can you fly it?’

Despite the tension of the situation, the emotion that crossed his face was embarrassment. ‘Ah . . . kind of.’

‘What do you mean, “kind of”?’

‘I mean, this guy was still learning! He’s only made two takeoffs from water, and both times he had an instructor helping.’

‘Well, that’s just fantastic!’ Bianca started to remove the co-pilot’s electrode cap, only to pull back in horror. The Russian was still and silent, unmoving eyes staring at the leaden sky. ‘Oh, God!’

Adam knew what she was thinking. ‘You didn’t kill him,’ he assured her, indicating the spreading red stain in the snow at the pilot’s side. ‘Al-Rais shot him, not you.’

‘But – but if we’d done something for him, he might—’

‘Bianca, if we don’t get out of here, we’ll be dead too. Come on!’ He yanked the skullcap off the dead man and tossed it into the case, then slammed the PERSONA’s screen shut and shoved the machine into its foam bed. ‘I’ll take this – you carry the recorder.’ He looked round at the lagoon –