The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,123

glanced through the hatch. Tony and the others still had guns at the ready. They hadn’t hit al-Rais. Beyond the trees, he heard the throb of the Hind’s engines at idle. The pilot probably had no idea what had hit his aircraft, and was unwilling to risk the Americans having more of them.

But Adam knew that as soon as the Beriev started up, Sevnik would not allow the gunship to remain grounded.

He hurried into the cockpit. A moment of terrified shock as he saw the dead pilot still slumped in his seat, the Barrett round having blown half his head away. But he suppressed the young co-pilot’s horror at the sight of his dead instructor and friend and dropped into the empty second seat. The Beriev was a modern aircraft with a relatively high degree of computerisation; he engaged the auxiliary power unit to activate the main systems, then began the procedure for an emergency start-up.

Holly Jo ran back into the Global 6000’s cabin from the cockpit. ‘Better strap in!’ she warned Kyle as she sat and buckled her own seat belt tightly.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Kyle said as he followed suit. The lights flickered, then the airframe trembled as the engines rose in power. There was a whine as the thrust reversers opened. The plane began to move – backwards, trundling towards Provideniya’s main runway.

Holly Jo put her headset back on. ‘Oh, they are not happy about this,’ she said as she heard the control tower’s demands to know what was going on.

‘They want us to stop and power down,’ said the pilot. ‘What do we do?’

‘We’ve got our orders – take off and get to US airspace,’ she replied, looking through a porthole. A couple of Russian officials were running across the snow-covered concrete after the retreating jet. ‘Uh-oh.’

The plane swung sharply through ninety degrees to face down the runway. Kyle peered through the window. ‘What’re they gonna do, try to shoot out the— Oh shit. Oh shit! They’ve got guns – they are going to shoot out the tyres!’ He reactivated his own headset. ‘Dude, get us out of here!’

‘Miss Voss, can you keep your people’s chatter down, please?’ the pilot replied testily. The thrust reversers retracted, the jet lurching to a stop.

‘What?’ snapped Kyle. ‘No, wait – I’m not her people! She doesn’t give me orders!’

‘You are such a gynophobe, Kyle,’ Holly Jo said, clutching her armrests as the engines shrieked to full power.

‘No, I’m not, whatever that is – oh Jesus!’ The Russians were taking aim. ‘Go, go go go!’

The pilot released the wheelbrakes. Holly Jo and Kyle were shoved back in their seats as the jet surged forward. One of the Russians gawped at the Global 6000 as it raced past.

The younger of the pair opened fire—

He was aiming at the wheels rather than the fuselage. His bullets hit nothing but concrete and snow. The plane left the officers behind in moments and took to the sky, climbing steeply and banking to head south-east.

Holly Jo was still monitoring the radio traffic. ‘They’re warning the Russian air force about us,’ she said, alarmed.

Now that they were airborne, Kyle had relaxed. ‘Pfft. What’re they gonna do?’ he asked dismissively. ‘They can’t even afford to keep up a proper interceptor screen. Besides, we’ll have an F-22 escort as soon as we’re out of Russian airspace. Nothing’ll be able to touch us.’

‘Maybe,’ said Holly Jo, less convinced. ‘But we’ve got to get out of Russian airspace first . . .’

A rising shrill announced to those on the shore that Adam had started the Beriev’s engines. Baxter waved to his men. ‘Let’s go, let’s go! Bring the prisoner!’

Spence hauled Qasid upright and pushed him along the cutting. The two other soldiers quickly caught up.

Tony kept a close watch on the buildings. Al-Rais had fired from behind the largest one, its wooden wall now ravaged by G36 bullets – but he was certain the Saudi had escaped unharmed.

Al-Rais was no longer the only threat, however. Sevnik’s soldiers were somewhere in the woods – and getting closer. ‘Okay, John,’ said Tony, ‘get Bianca to the plane. I’ll cover you.’

‘You should take her,’ Baxter said.

‘There isn’t time to argue. Go!’

Baxter frowned, but helped Bianca up. ‘Can you carry both those cases?’ he asked.

‘They’re heavy, but – yeah, I can,’ she said, realising that he was effectively offering to take one himself, which would leave him holding his rifle one-handed.

‘Good.’ He turned to cover the cutting’s southern side. ‘Okay, head for