The roaring in her ears was so loud she couldn’t hear her own rapid breathing, just felt the thudding of her heart in her chest and the tight, awful knot in her stomach.
Then she realised that the roaring wasn’t inside her head.
“What is that noise?” she asked, as more shots sounded from outside.
“Sounds like a helicopter,” Girard answered.
“It can’t be ours, can it?” she asked, a dangerous sliver of hope loosening some of the knot. “It’s way too close.” If she could hear it that clearly, it must be almost at the island.
“Maybe. They’d have had to be on their way long before the radio call.” Girard paused to send a few shots outside.
“Will they know about the armed men?” Hallie asked. She had no idea how quickly Jasper might have been able to relay the information to Director Roth.
“Probably not,” Girard said. “We need to try and warn them.”
“Alright,” Hallie said. She looked around, measuring the distance between the shelter of the desk and the radio. Even as she tried to work out distances and how she might get a message out, another volley of shots rang out, bullets thudding into the radio. “Radio’s broken.”
“I’ve got flares,” Girard said. He lifted his head, peered over the desk, and muttered a curse. “No good. I’ll need to get outside for a decent throw.”
“Then we move,” Hallie said. She fired another few shots at another shadow that appeared in the doorway. “Through the window?”
“Too many people out there,” Girard said.
“Front door,” Hallie suggested. If she could make it out of the room, the house’s front door wasn’t far away.
“Can you run? I’ll cover you,” Girard suggested. He paused between shots and pulled something out of a pocket. “You need to snap it as if you’re breaking it in half, then throw it. It will send out smoke.”
“Got it,” Hallie said, taking the stick from him. It was made of smooth, hard plastic and had some kind of a warning label on it that she couldn’t read in the poor light. She shrugged out of the two rifles that she was carrying, leaving them on the floor by the desk, and put her handgun back in the holster, gathering herself to run. When she was ready she gave Girard a nod.
He rose to his feet and sent a volley of shots out through the window then immediately turned and fired into the house, moving with Hallie as she ran out of the room, sprinting across the shadowed entrance hall to the solid wooden front doors. It was only when she reached them that she wondered if they were locked. Luck - or Jonah’s lax housekeeping - was on her side, as the door yielded under her shove, letting her out into the night. She ran down the shallow stone steps and then stumbled as her cold, bare feet encountered the sharp gravel in front of the house. She swayed as she stopped, using both hands to snap the plastic stick in two then fling it out in front of her. As it flew through the air, it began to glow. Faintly at first, then an increasingly vivid red, trails of smoke billowing out of it until when it reached the ground it was a mass of brilliant red smoke that would be easily visible from the air, and probably in New Hope as well.
She turned, biting back a cry as the gravel dug into her feet, and headed back into the house. Or planned to. As she reached the open doors, more shadows moved in the hallway. She fumbled for her gun, tucked herself down next to the solid stone door surround, firing into the group inside, aware of Girard standing next to her, firing away from the house. Bullets thudded into the heavy wooden doors and splinteredchips of stone over her head. She ran out of bullets, ejected the magazine and reloaded as smoothly as if she’d been handling guns all her life, then began firing into the house again. Single shots, carefully aimed and spaced out, trying to conserve her ammunition. A couple of yells and cries of pain let her know that she’d hit at least two people.
Then the sound of helicopter engines became a deafening roar. She risked a look up and saw an enormous black shape overhead. It hovered in the air over the red smoke and against the darkening sky she saw two people appear, one on either side of the enormous vehicle, dropping down to the ground in the midst of the vivid red smoke. She wanted to cry out, sure that the people were going to smash against the hard gravel surface, but they didn’t. Instead, they landed lightly on the ground and immediately began firing at the men around the house. The Conclave Investigators’ tactical team, she realised, and they’d used ropes to get down from the helicopter.
Looking back up she saw another two people also dropping down from the helicopter.
A blinding flare of light snapped through the sky and slammed into the helicopter, sending it spinning in a wild arc that had Hallie’s mouth open in a silent cry. The two people who’d been descending on the ropes were shaken off, tumbling down into the forest. Even as the helicopter turned right side up, still hovering in the air, another flare of light, and another, rose into the sky and slammed into it again. The combined hits sent the vehicle into a spin that made Hallie sick just to look at it. She was sure she screamed when the helicopter fell to the ground in front of the house. No gentle descent, but a free fall that had it smashing into the ground, tilting to one side, the giant rotor blades biting into the earth, churning up the gravel and soil as the engines whined and squealed. Trying to keep the blades spinning even as the ground resisted.
The body of the helicopter shuddered and twisted, held fast to the ground by the rotor blades until something snapped and the rotor and the body parted company, the blades finally slowing to a stop. The black bulk of the helicopter slid across the gravel to the edge of the flat ground, metal squealing against the gravel. By some odd chance, the helicopter ended up on top of the red smoke still billowing in the air, making it dance in strange patterns.
Hallie started forwards on instinct. She’d seen two people go down into the forest, and she was quite sure there would be a pilot and co-pilot. There might also be more people in the vehicle.
A hard hand on her arm stopped her, pulled her back. She turned, startled, to find Girard there, urging her back to the house.
More shots rang out and she didn’t need to be told twice. She made it back to the doorway with Girard, ducking her head as bullets hit the stonework and doors again, sending more splinters of stone and wood into the air. All the bullets seemed to be coming from outside, so she ducked into the house, moving sideways immediately so that her back was against the solid stone wall. Wanting to be sure, she looked first into what she could see of the house, checking to make sure there were no more men approaching them from the kitchen or down the stairs. The shadows in the entranceway stayed still, so she turned her attention back to the outside. The thugs were too far away for the handgun. She reached for one of the rifles she’d had earlier only to remember she’d left them inside.
“Here.” She didn’t know how she heard Girard’s voice over the creak and groan of the helicopter settling on the ground and the gunfire, but she looked over to find him holding a rifle out to her. She took it, nodding her thanks, and set it against her shoulder,aiming outdoors to where Jonah’s men were now piling out of the forest, heading for the helicopter.
Girard had estimated the number at perhaps twenty, but it looked like there were many more. The scene was lit by the faint light in the night sky, red smoke still swirling around the helicopter and the approaching men, a sharp metallic taste filling her mouth which she assumed was from the flare. Hallie fired. The rifle thudded back into her shoulder, almost sending her off balance. She knelt down, leant against the stone door surround for more support, and tried again. Better. With a stable firing position, she sent single shots into the group of Jonah’s men, sending them scattering, aware of Girard doing the same on the other side of the doorway.
A pair of shadows appeared in front of the door and Hallie bit back a cry, somehow managing not to fire as her brain and eyes caught up with each other and she recognised the black combat gear of the tactical team.
“You started all the fun without us,” one of the men said, taking up a post behind Girard. Frollo. It could only be Frollo sounding so cheerful in the face of overwhelming odds.
The other man moved to take position standing behind Hallie, his automatic weapon trained on the outside. “Abbott. Report.” Hallie thought she knew the voice, but couldn’t put a name to it immediately.
“Commander Rojas,” Girard said, more than a bit of relief in his voice. “It’s good to see you. We have upwards of twenty hostiles on site here. They are affiliated with a man called Jonah who also uses the title governor. This is his house. He’s got an extensive armoury of hand-held weapons.”
