least he’s not shooting now,” she said. “I must have wounded him.”
“With a cookie?”
“No, the Glock.”
“Maybe they’re out of bullets.”
Just then the Russian fired another round at them.
“Obviously, they brought along extra ammo,” she said.
Storm swerved, and the wheels of the SUV sent gravel flying from the roadway’s edge. Showers pressed her left hand against the Range Rover’s ceiling to brace herself as he turned quickly around another curve.
Despite Storm’s driving, the vehicle behind them was gaining ground. Within a few seconds, they were so close that Showers could see the Russian’s eyes as he aimed his machine gun at them. At this distance, he wouldn’t miss.
“This is not how I planned to die,” Showers said.
“A white picket fence,” Storm said, swerving, “a rocking chair, grandkids running around while you sipped lemonade. Was that your plan?”
“No, but it certainly wasn’t dying on a Uzbekistan mountain next to someone whose real name I don’t even know.”
“Planning your own death is overrated,” Storm said. “Trust me. I’ve done it.”
Showers braced herself for what she thought would be her last breath as Storm swerved again and waited for the inevitable.
Just as the Russian was about to fire, the SUV that he was riding in turned into a giant fireball. The explosion lifted the vehicle from the roadway and completely engulfed it in flames. It crashed down and bounced off the cliff, tumbling down the mountainside in flames.
“What was in those cookies?” Storm asked. He jammed on his brakes, causing the vehicle to spin to a stop.
“What the hell just happened?” Showers asked.
“Quiet!” Storm said. He turned off the engine.
Through the SUV’s shattered windows, they heard a whirling noise hovering above them in the darkness.
“Jedidiah Jones!” Storm said. “He sent a predator.” He glanced at Showers and started to explain, “You know, an unmanned radio controlled military drone—”
“I know what a predator is,” she snapped. “What I don’t know is how Jones knew we were being chased down the side of a Uzbekistan mountain by Russians.”
Storm lifted up his wrist so she could see his watch.
“I guess no one in the FBI has one of these,” he said proudly. “It’s a tracking device. When Dilya pulled a gun on me in the cave, I turned it on and it sent Langley a signal telling Jones that we were in trouble. This watch tells Jones exactly where I am at any time and in any place in the world.”
“Glad someone is keeping track of you,” she replied.
By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, the morning sun was rising, and on the horizon they saw a Bell 206 helicopter flying low across the plains toward them. Storm turned off the road as the four-seat chopper landed. Within minutes, they were flying toward Kazakhstan, leaving the bullet-ridden SUV and the bodies of Casper, Oscar, Dilya, the Viper, his men, and six dead Russians behind them.
As they rode in silence in the chopper, Showers suddenly reached over with her left hand.
“Here. A present.”
Storm looked at her opened palm.
It was one of the cookies from the SUV. It had fallen into her sling when she was heaving the others through the window.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They separated as soon as the CIA-contracted charter flight delivered them to the U.S. garrison in Wiesbaden, Germany. Showers was admitted to the hospital so doctors could repair her damaged collarbone, while Storm was given time to bathe and eat, but then was put on a flight back to Andrews Air Force Base. A car was waiting to take him to Langley.
Jones was leaning back in his squeaky desk chair when Storm entered his office and sat in the all-too-familiar chair across from the CIA spymaster.
“We didn’t find any gold,” Storm said. “No sixty billion in kilobars owned by the Communist Party. Petrov must have given Lebedev the wrong coordinates.”
Jones leaned forward and said,
“With a cookie?”
“No, the Glock.”
“Maybe they’re out of bullets.”
Just then the Russian fired another round at them.
“Obviously, they brought along extra ammo,” she said.
Storm swerved, and the wheels of the SUV sent gravel flying from the roadway’s edge. Showers pressed her left hand against the Range Rover’s ceiling to brace herself as he turned quickly around another curve.
Despite Storm’s driving, the vehicle behind them was gaining ground. Within a few seconds, they were so close that Showers could see the Russian’s eyes as he aimed his machine gun at them. At this distance, he wouldn’t miss.
“This is not how I planned to die,” Showers said.
“A white picket fence,” Storm said, swerving, “a rocking chair, grandkids running around while you sipped lemonade. Was that your plan?”
“No, but it certainly wasn’t dying on a Uzbekistan mountain next to someone whose real name I don’t even know.”
“Planning your own death is overrated,” Storm said. “Trust me. I’ve done it.”
Showers braced herself for what she thought would be her last breath as Storm swerved again and waited for the inevitable.
Just as the Russian was about to fire, the SUV that he was riding in turned into a giant fireball. The explosion lifted the vehicle from the roadway and completely engulfed it in flames. It crashed down and bounced off the cliff, tumbling down the mountainside in flames.
“What was in those cookies?” Storm asked. He jammed on his brakes, causing the vehicle to spin to a stop.
“What the hell just happened?” Showers asked.
“Quiet!” Storm said. He turned off the engine.
Through the SUV’s shattered windows, they heard a whirling noise hovering above them in the darkness.
“Jedidiah Jones!” Storm said. “He sent a predator.” He glanced at Showers and started to explain, “You know, an unmanned radio controlled military drone—”
“I know what a predator is,” she snapped. “What I don’t know is how Jones knew we were being chased down the side of a Uzbekistan mountain by Russians.”
Storm lifted up his wrist so she could see his watch.
“I guess no one in the FBI has one of these,” he said proudly. “It’s a tracking device. When Dilya pulled a gun on me in the cave, I turned it on and it sent Langley a signal telling Jones that we were in trouble. This watch tells Jones exactly where I am at any time and in any place in the world.”
“Glad someone is keeping track of you,” she replied.
By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, the morning sun was rising, and on the horizon they saw a Bell 206 helicopter flying low across the plains toward them. Storm turned off the road as the four-seat chopper landed. Within minutes, they were flying toward Kazakhstan, leaving the bullet-ridden SUV and the bodies of Casper, Oscar, Dilya, the Viper, his men, and six dead Russians behind them.
As they rode in silence in the chopper, Showers suddenly reached over with her left hand.
“Here. A present.”
Storm looked at her opened palm.
It was one of the cookies from the SUV. It had fallen into her sling when she was heaving the others through the window.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They separated as soon as the CIA-contracted charter flight delivered them to the U.S. garrison in Wiesbaden, Germany. Showers was admitted to the hospital so doctors could repair her damaged collarbone, while Storm was given time to bathe and eat, but then was put on a flight back to Andrews Air Force Base. A car was waiting to take him to Langley.
Jones was leaning back in his squeaky desk chair when Storm entered his office and sat in the all-too-familiar chair across from the CIA spymaster.
“We didn’t find any gold,” Storm said. “No sixty billion in kilobars owned by the Communist Party. Petrov must have given Lebedev the wrong coordinates.”
Jones leaned forward and said,
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