best approach. If he charged straight ahead, he might as well paint a target on his chest. The shots were only sporadic now, the shooters probably hoping to keep their mark stationary until the guy ran out of ammunition.
Which meant Conlan needed to haul ass before it was too late. Circling around the base of the first hill, he scanned the area for any signs of the shooters. He spotted the first one sprawled on the ground on the ridge above. Dressed in camouflage, the guy would’ve been almost invisible if he hadn’t happened to move just as Conlan looked in his direction.
One shot could take him out, but Conlan wouldn’t risk killing the wrong man. Instead, he started up the hillside, moving slowly to avoid drawing attention to himself. He got within ten yards before his target realized he was no longer alone.
Conlan kept the shooter’s head firmly centered in his crosshairs. “Drop your weapon.”
The guy didn’t hesitate. Rolling onto his back, he came up firing. Conlan dived to the side and got off three shots in rapid succession. The guy’s body jerked and twitched as each of the bullets found its mark. So much for a stealthy approach.
Ignoring the corpse, Conlan inched forward to the crest of the hill. Judging from the quality of the guy’s equipment, he’d been a mercenary, and a well-paid one at that. Somebody with big bucks had financed this attack. Conlan picked up the man’s gun and waved it in the air briefly, doing his best to stay out of sight. With luck, the rest of the mercs would think it was their buddy signaling that all was well.
Before they figured out differently, he grabbed the dead man’s com device and moved farther south using the ridge for cover. A short distance away, he settled in behind a cluster of boulders and used the scope on his rifle to reconnoiter.
It wasn’t hard to choose sides, not when half a dozen heavily armed men had their guns aimed at the lone woman and two children huddled underneath the transport on the road below. Son of a bitch, this is about to get ugly.
Conlan ducked down to check on the ETA of his men. “Finn, where the hell are you?”
Thanks to the way the hills screwed with reception, his assistant’s voice kept breaking up. Conlan made out what sounded like five minutes, but he couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter. The shooters had gotten impatient and cut loose with another barrage of heavy fire.
A voice rang out from somewhere across the valley. “Hey, lady, do the smart thing and lay down your weapon and surrender. Our patience is wearing thin. You wouldn’t want something to happen to those cute little girls.”
Furious that they’d threaten children, Conlan answered for her. He picked out the closest target and squeezed the trigger twice. The first bullet slammed into the merc’s shoulder and the second hit him in the side, spinning him around before he crumpled to the ground. Good. One more down, at least five more to go, although he wasn’t normally the type to keep score. After squeezing off another volley, Conlan crested the top of the ridge and took off slip-sliding down the hillside.
The enemy’s return fire showered him with leaves and branches as he dived behind a pair of trees. At least he was drawing the fire toward himself and away from the kids, not that he much liked being a target. In fact, it pissed him off, big-time. One way or another, the bastards would pay.
He got off a lucky shot when another of the enemy made the mistake of standing up to get a bead on Conlan’s hiding spot. A splotch of red blossomed on the guy’s upper leg and his scream of fury and pain echoed through the valley. Three down. Conlan fired another two rounds and improved the odds even more.
The com unit he’d captured crackled to life. “Retreat! Grab the wounded! Retreat!”
Hoping like hell it wasn’t a ruse to draw him out, Conlan ran for the valley floor, still raking the hilltops with bursts of fire as he ran.
“Don’t shoot! I’m coming in!” he yelled as he came up even with transport, still hoping to capture one of the mercs before they made their escape.
“Watch out!”
The woman shrieked out a warning as a helicopter rose up over the hill to the west, coming straight for them. Machine-gun fire kicked up twin lines of dust straight toward Conlan and the transport.