Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(94)

“We don’t have much time,” said Marnie, picking up what felt like an impossible pace.

Two suppressed shots echoed off the trees, giving him no indication of a direction. He barreled through the forest a few steps behind her, thinking they couldn’t possibly miss a one-hundred-yard-wide clearing. Or could they? His earpiece crackled.

“Where the hell are you two?” asked Rich.

“We should be there any—” he started, the two of them breaking through a jumble of bushes into the clearing.

The helicopter stood in the center of what looked like a mowed field, its rotors slowly picking up speed. Alex stood next to the helicopter, pointing his rifle inside.

“There you are,” said Rich, waving to them from the eastern edge of the clearing before vanishing into the forest.

“Cabin is clear,” said Alex. “I found an M249—ready to rock and roll. Do you want it on the tree line?”

“Negative. We’ll be wheels up in forty seconds or less. I don’t see anything moving out here,” said Rich.

“Copy. On my way over,” said Alex, already scrambling across the field toward Rich.

“Marnie. Do whatever you need to do to get us out of here,” said Rich. “Remember. There’s another helicopter in the clearing west of here, maybe fifty yards away. My guess is they’re pretty desperate to stop us, so watch your three o’clock on the way out.”

“Got it.”

The two side-by-side bullet holes in the windshield came into focus when they passed under the rotor blade arc. Marnie reached the helicopter first, immediately opening the pilot-side door and going to work on the dead pilot’s seat harness. She’d pulled him free of the helicopter just as Devin hopped into the cabin. Marnie poked her head between the front seats, nodding at the machine gun.

“Do you know how to work that?” she asked.

“I’ve held one, but never fired one,” said Devin, lifting the machine gun off the bench seat to examine it. “But I can’t imagine it’s that complicated.”

“It’s not. Press the trigger for a second or two at most. It has a very high rate of fire. Very hard to control if you don’t brace it against something. And don’t forget about the safety. It’s a button right about where your thumb rests. You have to push it from the other side with your index finger to take it off safe. And make sure to fire very short bursts.”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about taking off?” asked Devin, taking a seat with the machine gun pointed toward the forest.

“The Bell 429 kind of flies itself,” said Marnie.

“I’m willing to bet it doesn’t,” said Devin.

His radio squawked. “Marnie. How long until takeoff? We have company coming in from the east.”

She plopped down in the pilot’s seat. “Rotor speed is still building, but it’s starting to level off. Fifteen to twenty seconds max.”

“Copy. We’re on our way back. It’s going to be a close call,” said Rich. “Devin. I need you on that 249. The moment we jump on board, start hosing down the tree line where we pop out. You should be able to see us—right about now.”

Devin looked up and caught the two of them emerging from the forest and sprinting toward the helicopter. Jesus. Here we go. He quickly located the safety button on the right side of the trigger grip and pressed it. Rich and Alex piled into the helicopter moments later, nearly knocking him over.

“Hit the tree line!” said Rich, slapping him on the shoulder. “Marnie. Get us the fuck out of here!”

Devin braced the M249 against the doorframe and aimed at the point where they had emerged, pressing the trigger briefly. The machine gun pounded his shoulder, rattling off a short burst. Marnie hadn’t been kidding. The gun was a beast. He pressed the trigger again, holding it for a full second. The machine gun wasn’t as hard to control now that he knew what to expect. Devin repeated the process six more times before the magazine drum emptied—methodically shifting his aim along a twenty-yard stretch of tree line. The helicopter lurched skyward as he fired the last burst.





CHAPTER 52


Felix Orlov knew they were running out of time when he heard the two suppressed gunshots. His only hope of preventing a catastrophic mission failure lay in reaching the landing zone and surprising the hostile force before they could either take off or put the machine gun to use against the group that had chased them to the helicopters. The race would be extremely close. The helicopter sounded as though it was ready for takeoff.

He weaved around trees, ducked under branches, and brute-forced his way through the brush, single-mindedly focused on catching a glimpse of the helicopter through the thick forest. Once Felix spotted the helicopter, he would halt the team and unleash a storm of gunfire. Two full magazines before moving forward to assess the situation. The rotor pitch suddenly deepened, meaning one thing. Someone on the team knew how to fly a helicopter!

He was about to give the order to fire blindly ahead of them when his satellite phone buzzed.

About fucking time!

He slowed to remove the phone from his vest, the other two operatives burning past him.

“Hold up!” he yelled before stopping to accept the phone call.

Automatic gunfire ripped through the trees, a single short burst at first, passing well overhead. He darted to the right and dived behind a thick tree trunk, barely escaping the longer bursts that followed—which struck at waist height. When the shooting stopped for a few seconds, he peeked around the tree with his rifle and fired on full automatic until the magazine ran dry. None of his bullets hit their mark. A stiff gust of dusty air washed through the foliage, indicating that the helicopter had already taken off.