Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone (26 page)

Gravity pushed her into the seat as she worked the Slick out of the hard right turn. The walls shot past her in a blur. She was breathing raggedly, her eyes narrowed as she snapped a hard left yaw. Instantly, the Slick banked hard. The rotor tips almost struck the overhang of granite. Too much! Instantly, Maya corrected, just a little. The Slick steadied and flew along the wall, the rotor blades inches away from the granite outcropping.

She heard a thundering roar erupt behind her.
Damn!
The Slick lurched forward from the shock wave caused by the explosion of a rocket nearby. Correcting the fleeing helicopter, Maya hit the right yaw peddle once more as the wall raced up at her. Faro had missed her! Jerking a look to her right, Maya saw huge clouds of yellow dust rising into the air where she’d flown seconds before. The Hind burst through the wall of dust, hot on the trail of her laboring aircraft.

Faro was closing in on her. She had to think! She had to do something! The Huey was groaning from the hard, demanding flying. Maya wrenched the collective to the right, and then hard left. The walls raced up at her. The winds were inconstant. They pummeled the Huey one moment and eased off the next. Having to juggle the aircraft in that kind of a wind made it even more dangerous to fly this unforgiving canyon.

Another explosion! This time directly in front of her, to the right. Maya cried out as she saw a huge deluge of dirt, debris and rocks hurtling directly down at her. Wrenching the Slick up, she hit the left yaw peddle and climbed up and out of the canyon. The helicopter strained. Panels popped and groaned in protest. The engine screamed like a wounded banshee. She knew by flying above the canyon rim she was as good as
dead. It would be easy for the Hind to paint her on radar and fire a rocket at her.
No way!

As soon as she’d avoided the cloud of debris caused by the explosion, Maya shoved the nose of the Huey straight back down into the canyon. She heard a hiss. Jerking a look off to her left, she saw a rocket speed by, narrowly missing her. Sobbing for breath, she jammed the Slick back down into the gorge. The S turns were tight. She worked the Slick hard and forced it to bend tightly to the right, then to the left. She was flying so low that the rotors of her aircraft were kicking up huge clouds of sand in her wake. It was one way to stop the Hind—to throw sand in its face, literally, and cloud her escape. Radar could paint her less easily through thick dust, Maya knew. She needed every edge she could get.

A buzzer went off. Her eyes snapped to the instruments. The engine was overheating! She saw the needle slowly starting to move up toward the red portion of the gauge.
Damn!
Fifty percent of her fuel was gone. She’d managed to get halfway through Muerte. Suddenly, Maya had an idea. It was a long shot, but it was probably the only chance she had. Mouth compressed, she kept the Slick at full throttle. She could feel the Hind stalking her in earnest. The game was almost over.

M
aya knew of one place in Muerte that might save her from a fiery death.
Maybe.
She sped toward that point, which was a wall partition that stuck out, literally, like a sore thumb, jutting into the canyon. This was the narrowest part of the entire gorge, and as she slid through it, she turned the Slick hard right. Bringing the helicopter around, she hid behind the wall in a hover and waited. Breathing hard, sweat running down into her eyes, she sat tensely, her hands gripping the controls. The Huey was hovering and shaking all around her. Her grip was so tight that her knuckles were white.

Wait…just wait….

The seconds ticked by.

Maya closed her eyes and tried to be patient. Her only chance was the moment when the Hind slowed down to carefully maneuver between the wall of the canyon and the partition causing the constriction. She
had to time her attack just right. The Slick had runners instead of wheels on its undercarriage. They were long and slender rods, made of heavy, impact-resistant tubular metal. She was going to try and time it so that as the Hind came crawling past her, she would ram the Slick forward. With the tip of one of the skids, she would jam into the tail rotor assembly of the Hind. If she could manage such a delicate assault, she might destroy the Hind’s tail rotor and the chopper would lose control and crash.

It was a horrible risk and Maya knew it. The Slick shuddered around her. When would the Hind show itself? She jerked a look above her. Off to her right, at eighteen thousand feet, the Kamov hovered. Would he warn Faro what she was doing? Even if they told him she was hiding behind the wall, Maya knew none of them would guess her lethal intent. And the timing was critical. If she couldn’t do it right, then the Slick would slam full throttle into the Hind itself and they’d all die in a fiery explosion.

Her last thoughts before she saw the nose of the Hind inching from behind the wall, was that she loved Dane. Her only regret was she had never told him that. Gripping the controls hard, Maya waited one more second as the first half of the Hind appeared. She saw Faro’s face turned toward her. He was grinning. He had been told by the pilot in the Kamov that she was hiding there. No matter. Lips lifting away from her teeth, she tensed. Maya rammed the Slick forward. The machine groaned. The engines screamed. The temperature needle shot into the danger zone.

Just as the Hind flew from behind the partition, Maya lurched the Slick into a slight right turn. She dipped the nose and aimed the skid right at the tail
rotor assembly of the Hind. Bracing herself, she sucked in a breath of air. The Slick shuddered. Her neck snapped back. She heard the grating scream of metal being torn apart. As she slammed back into the seat, the harness cut deeply into her shoulders. The Hind shuddered drunkenly. An explosion occurred in the tail rotor, and then Maya felt the Slick being pulled into the Hind.
No!
She jammed the left yaw peddle and wrenched her aircraft away from the Hind. More metal snapped. The Slick labored. The rotors of the Hind were dangerously close. Maya cringed and pulled away as she saw the Hind suddenly moving upward toward her.
No!

Yanking at the controls, she realized her skid had jammed into the Hind’s rotor and was now stuck there. She felt the Slick sinking along with the heavier aircraft.
No! Oh, dammit!
She had to get free!
Free!

Hissing a curse, Maya powered up. The mangled skid pulled free. They were falling! She was fifty feet from the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, Maya saw the Hind suddenly nose up. Its rotors bit savagely into the wall of the canyon. Rock, dirt and dust exploded in all directions. She worked the pedals wildly to keep her own ship from crashing. The Hind slammed into the wall, out of control. A huge explosion of black-red-and-orange flames and smoke erupted all around her.

Maya let out a yell as she hauled the Slick to the left, away from the explosion. She was too close! She knew the shock wave from the holocaust would knock the Slick out of her control. The ground was coming up fast! She braced herself. Her breath jammed in her throat. Eyes bulging, she called on every flying skill
she’d ever learned to turn away from the fire vomiting in her direction. If she could just get the nose turned…

The wave from the explosion, hot and searing, struck the wounded Slick. Maya cried out and tried to hold her aircraft steady. She was going to crash! The ground came up swiftly. Jerking the nose up, Maya felt heat searing into the cabin. For a moment she was completely enveloped by a fireball from hell itself. Her skin burned. Shutting her eyes, she clung to the controls and stopped breathing. To breathe meant to drag the fire and heat into her lungs, and she knew it would kill her.

Within seconds, the fireball from the destroyed Hind moved past her. Opening her eyes, she gasped. The ground was still racing up at her. The rotors of the Slick slammed into the sand and rock at an angle. The blades snapped off. Lethal chunks became flying shrapnel that could take off a person’s head. Maya threw up her hands to protect her face. The Slick’s nose dug into the sand. The cockpit canopy snapped. Plexiglas exploded inward across her body. The harnesses bit savagely into her flesh. The ship dug its nose in and the tail rotor flipped upward.

A cry was torn from Maya’s throat. She felt the machine turning, cartwheeling. But not for long. Maya knew the floor of the canyon was nearby.

At the sound of screeching metal, Maya knew the tail of the ship had flipped into the unforgiving granite wall. Would the helicopter burst into flame? She hoped not. With so little fuel on board, the chances were unlikely. Just let her stay conscious! Maya heard the ship groan, and felt it begin to buckle around her. The ochre wall loomed before her widening eyes. She felt the metal around her booted feet caving inward. Instantly, Maya lifted her legs. The last thing she needed was to
be trapped by the torn metal, one of her feet sheared off in the impact.

Within seconds, it was over. Dust made her cough and gag. The Slick settled in a corner of the canyon, metal shrieking and groaning. Fumbling for the harness release, Maya managed to jerk it open. She fell heavily between the seats, her eyes blurred from the dust blowing around her. Blindly, she made for the light she saw at the rear of the cabin.
Escape!
She had to escape. She knew the Kamov would be coming in to finish her off.

Maya tumbled out of the Slick and onto the sand, landing on her hands and feet. The roar of the Hind burning fifty feet away, the continuing explosions, hurt her ears. A black, greasy column of smoke rose around her. Maya realized it was her escape route. She knew the Kamov couldn’t paint her through that thick, roiling smoke. Struggling to her feet, she dug the toes of her boots into the sand and sprinted drunkenly toward the Hind. They couldn’t locate her, with all that heat. Let them think she’d died in the crash, and they’d leave. Then and only then would she have a chance of getting away.

Gasping for breath, Maya flattened herself against the scorched, blackened sand twenty feet from the burning Hind. She looked up through the smoke, looking fearfully for the Kamov. A startled cry broke from her lips as she saw the Russian craft that had been targeting her suddenly explode in a red-orange ball of fire. Metal and debris rained down upon her. The canyon echoed with clanging metallic sounds. Puffs of dust exploded everywhere as the sheared-off metal struck the rocks.

Within a minute, she saw an Apache D model com
ing in low over the canyon, right toward her. The canyon reverberated with the thick, heavy beat of its rotors.

A sob of relief broke from Maya’s lips. She got to her feet and ran hard, away from the Hind so that the pilots could spot her. Lifting her arms, she waved wildly to catch their attention. Just ahead, Maya saw an area where the Apache could land, and she ran toward it. Sobbing with relief, she realized that her jaguar spirit had gotten in touch with Dane and that he had followed him here, to the Canyon of Death. Hot tears blurred her vision as she ran unsteadily toward the landing spot. She watched as the Apache crew detected her and came in for a landing. Gasping for breath, Maya leaned against the wall, her hands on her knees. She was safe.
Safe.
She’d managed to survive Faro and their death spiral dance. There could only be one survivor in the spiral—and it was her.

As Maya turned away, protecting her eyes from the flying sand and dust as the Apache landed, she suddenly felt weak. Within moments, her knees buckled. Crumbling on the sand, Maya sat back on her heels, sobbing. She didn’t care who saw her crying. Life was precious. She loved Dane.

As the Apache landed, Maya tried to see who the pilot was. It was impossible, the dust was so thick. Protecting her eyes with her hands, she waited. When she looked up again, she saw Dane running toward her. He was dressed in a black flight suit, without his helmet. His face was grim, his eyes alive with anguish.

“Maya!” he called out to her. His voice was lost in the sounds of the Hind burning nearby.

“Dane!” Her own voice broke. Maya knew she couldn’t stand. The relief at her life being spared had
totaled her in a way she’d never expected. Opening her arms, she called to him as he skidded to a halt in front of her.

“Maya!” Dane fell to his knees and gripped her by her shoulders. Her face was bloody. Her uniform was scorched and several strands of hair that had worked their way from beneath the helmet she wore were burned. Her eyes were glazed, and she was clearly in shock. Maya sagged forward into his open arms. He groaned and pulled her hard against him and held her. Just held her. She was shaking like a scared child. He began to talk to her, soothe her and let her know she was safe.

Anxiously, Dane moved his hand down her back and shoulders, searching for wounds. Lifting his head, his saw the crumpled Slick off to one side. What was going on? What had happened? He pulled away and looked into her wet face.

“Are you hurt?” he yelled above the roar of the fire from the Hind.

“No…no…I’m fine…oh, Dane, I love you!” Maya sobbed, holding his narrowed blue gaze. She saw the strength in his face and the sudden fierce tenderness enter his glacial gaze. His mouth softened. She felt his hands come up as he gently removed the helmet from her head. Her black hair tumbled around her shoulders.

Easing his fingers through her hair, he held Maya captive by framing her damp face. Leaning forward, he said, “And I love the hell out of you, too. Just take it easy. You’ve been through a lot. I’ve got the Blackhawk coming. Angel’s on board. It should land in a few minutes. We’ll get you back to base and you’ll be okay.”

Maya nodded and leaned forward. She pressed a
trembling kiss against his mouth. Never had she wanted contact with Dane more than in this moment. Maya wanted to convince herself that she was alive and that he was here, with her. Dane kissed her hard in return. His mouth was hot and seeking against her lips. As he broke the kiss, he smiled down at her and tenderly caressed her cheek. Maya felt shaky. Out of control. Sagging back on her heels, she gripped his hands in hers.

“Cam? How is Cam? Did you find her? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. We rescued her earlier. A broken arm is all.”

Closing her eyes, Maya whispered, “Thank Goddess. I was so scared for her…I didn’t know what’d happened.”

Dane took in a ragged breath. Joy surged through him. Maya was alive! He tried to gather his spinning thoughts and fight the wave of emotion that nearly overwhelmed him. In the distance, beyond the Apache, he saw the Blackhawk coming in for a landing. As its rotors stopped turning and the dust and pummeling wind died away, Dane stood and then brought Maya up into his arms. Her legs were rubbery. He patiently held on to her as she struggled to get her strength back. She was still crying. Hell, his eyes were wet, too. He grinned boyishly as he looked at her, his arm around her shoulders to steady her.

“I followed your jaguar.”

She sighed and surrendered to his superior strength. Just having Dane’s arm around her made Maya feel safe from the hell of the last hour. “I’m so glad. I was afraid you wouldn’t….”

“It didn’t leave me much choice.” Dane laughed out
of relief. The Blackhawk’s door opened and he eased her forward. “Can you make it?”

Giving him a wry look, Maya said, “One step at a time.” Looking up worriedly, she asked, “What about the Kamovs? There were three of them.”

“Gone,” Dane told her with satisfaction. “It was a turkey shoot. They were otherwise occupied when we painted them on radar. They didn’t know what hit them.”

Relief shuddered through Maya as they walked around the stationary Apache. She lifted her hand to Jessica, who remained on board, handling all the controls. No gunship could be left without a pilot on board during a wartime situation. The look on the woman’s face was one of joy. “They were making sure I stayed in the canyon as the Hind stalked me,” she told him.

Dane turned and looked at the burning gunship. “You took it down, didn’t you.”

Maya grinned a little and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, you might say that. Not that my method is in any flight training manual.”

With a shake of his head, Dane realized he’d never met a woman as resourceful or courageous as Maya. As he held her and walked her toward the waiting Blackhawk, Angel stood outside the door, tense and expectant. Because Maya was able to walk under her own power, Angel would remain on the aircraft. Under the circumstances, no one knew if Faro had other gunships around.

“When we get back to the base, you can tell us all about it,” he assured Maya.

She gave him a hooded look, some of her old strength returning now that the shock was wearing off. “You know what I want, Major?”

He grinned. “Name it and it’s yours.”

“You and a hotel room in Cuzco. I’ve got some things to say to you and I’m not going to wait any longer. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Tears came to Maya’s eyes as she left the Blackhawk where it was parked on the lip. On her left, Dane had his grip on her arm to steady her. To her right Parades, otherwise known as the Angel of Death, was grinning broadly. Maya’s legs still felt wobbly beneath her, but she was determined to walk back into the base complex under her own power, despite the dizziness that assailed her.