Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(73)

“The chopper is zigzagging, and it’s working,” Stone said.

“The helicopter has the advantage of being able to turn inside the fighters,” the duke said. “It has a smaller turning radius.”

“That makes sense,” Stone said. “How can we help them? Is there something else we can tell Lance to tell the fighter pilots?”

The duke thought about that for a moment. “I can’t think of anything. Pretty soon the fighters are going to run out of ammunition.”

“They’re not firing now,” Stone said. Then a burst of tracers lit the sky, and Stone saw a small burst of flame. “What’s that?” he said, pointing.

“Maybe they hit the helicopter,” the duke replied. “It seems to be turning this way.”

“Should we stop the car or continue?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know. Either could be the wrong thing to do.”

The flames were getting larger now, and closer, too close, as far as Stone was concerned. “I think we should stop,” Stone said. “The thing almost seems to be aiming at us.”

“Nonsense,” the duke said. “It’s an illusion.”

Another burst of tracers appeared, and the chopper seemed to stagger.

“They’ve hit it again,” Stone said.

“Because they have the flame to aim at,” the duke replied.

For another moment they could see the helicopter descending, then there was an horrific explosion of flame and noise, and the car was rocked. The wheels on the left side slid off the tarmac and went onto the shoulder. There was a second explosion from the chopper, and the car began to tilt alarmingly.

“Steady, Herbert!” the duke cried.

“I’m trying sir!”

Then the car began to slowly roll on its side. In the rear compartment, where no one was wearing seat belts, its four occupants fell onto the side of the car, then it rolled onto its top, and they were smashed into the ceiling. Then, once more it rolled, came upright and stopped.

The duchess was lying on top of Stone, who extricated himself as carefully as possible.

“Is everyone all right?” Stone asked.

“I am, thanks to you,” the duchess said.

“Kelly?”

“What?” she asked weakly.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” She had been lying on the floor, and she struggled up into her seat.

The duke began to mutter unintelligibly, then sat up and climbed into the seat next to Kelly. “Jesus Christ,” he said quietly.

“Herbert?” Stone called out. He looked forward, but the front seat seemed empty.

Then the left rear door opened. “Is everyone alive?” Herbert asked.

“I believe so,” the duke said, recovering himself. “What happened?”

“The explosion blew us off the tarmac, we slid down a hill, and I lost the car. She rolled over, did a complete 360.”

Stone let himself out of the car, stood in some muddy grass and looked around. Small fires were scattered over a wide area. “I guess all those pieces are what’s left of the chopper,” he said. His satphone rang, and he dug it out. “Yes?”

“It’s Lance. Did you see what happened to the chopper? We’ve lost it, and neither of the fighters is communicating.”

“The chopper got hit by some tracers and exploded. It’s in a thousand pieces in a field, bits of it are still on fire.”

“May I remind you,” Lance said, “that one of those pieces is a nuclear artillery shell? It may not explode, but if it’s damaged it could be leaking radioactivity. You should get the hell out of there!”

Stone jumped back into the car. “Lance says the shell may have been damaged and could be leaking radioactivity. Herbert, will the car start?”

Herbert got back into the driver’s seat and tried it. The big engine fired immediately. “Yes, sir!”

“Then get us out of here—we need to be as far as possible from what’s left of the helicopter.”

Herbert switched on the headlights, and dead ahead a Holstein cow appeared. “We’re in a field,” he said.

“Then drive across it, if you have to,” the duke said. “Never mind the car.”

Herbert turned left, away from the road and got the car moving. Shortly, they came to an unpaved lane. “Which way?” Herbert asked.

“South,” the duke replied.

Stone got out the satphone and found a signal.

“Yes?” Lance said.

“We’re driving south, on an unpaved road, away from the helicopter,” Stone said.

“Eventually, you’ll come to a paved highway. Turn right, then turn left at a sign that says, ‘Salisbury Plain Proving Ground.’”

“What then?”

“You’ll come to a lot of vehicles in a field. I’m there, I’ll watch for you.”

Stone hung up and relayed the instructions to Herbert. Fifteen minutes later, Lance was flagging them down, and Stone got out of the car.

“That Bentley is a mess,” Lance said, “and it smells like cow shit.” He turned and yelled, “Hanson! Bring your Geiger counter!”

A man trudged over carrying a case.

“Go over these people and their car,” Lance said.