Chapter 19 #2
Screw that. Overwatch was Phoenix’s specialty. And it was time to see just how good he was.
He panned back to the snipers and lined up his target, waiting until the man started shifting—getting comfortable for his upcoming shot when he no doubt spotted Phoenix’s team darting out of the trees—then dropped him. One shot, one down. Not a sound amidst the trees.
Second guy fell just as easily. A whoosh of air and his head bobbing forward. Nothing moving around him. The other two were just as quick. Allowed Phoenix to take a breath—focus on the next string of targets.
They were more challenging. At the edge of his range. Moving along the perimeter. He’d have to anticipate where they’d be several seconds after he fired in order to hit them and not give away his presence by missing or only wounding them.
He settled a bit more. Put one of the men in his crosshairs. He’d been watching enough to plot out each man’s usual path. As long as they didn’t deviate, Phoenix would have them.
Waiting for Cannon to signal the team was in position was the wildcard. Might blow the entire op if the guard wasn’t in the correct spot. There were a few areas where the patrols overlapped. If his team arrived at the check point during one of those moments...
Phoenix couldn’t chance talking to hold them back.
Risk that someone might pick up on any chatter with his team so close.
That Parker would have parabolic dishes.
Other tech to hear any form of radio communication.
Simply having them click the mike could ruin everything.
Out them before they’d done more than trek across the landscape to the perimeter.
Hearing that click as two men nodded at each other then turned definitely complicated things.
Had Phoenix adjusting to take the man on the right, first. He followed for a couple of feet, aimed where the tango should be in several seconds and fired.
Held his breath as he waited for the bullet to hit home.
The shot was a bit high. Hit the mercenary in the throat. Definitely not where Phoenix was aiming but he wasn’t complaining. While he had armor piercing rounds, hitting flesh always felt better. That nothing could go wrong.
Panning over, seeing the other guy stop, posed a problem.
Had Phoenix cursing under his breath. Wondering if the first asshole had made a noise.
When his target turned and started walking toward the downed man, Phoenix had to adapt.
Pray the guy didn’t burst into a run. Catching him in the chest—seeing him crumple—calmed his heart rate a bit.
Not that it had climbed that high, but he’d been worried that he’d have to take multiple shots. Might make things awkward for his crew.
His team darting out to drag the bodies away settled the voices in his head. Had him zeroing in on his next hit.
He dropped two more men—only clipped the third.
But the guy fell a few seconds later. Probably Gibson and his damn knives.
Either way, Phoenix had gotten them to the edge of the camp.
Once they moved inside... It was damn near four kilometers away.
Definitely outside his useable range. Hell, it blew the stats away.
But, he’d keep lining up targets. Be prepared to take out any threat.
He might not kill them, but even having a bullet hit an inch from a tango’s face might send the guy scurrying for cover.
Buy Phoenix’s team the extra few seconds they needed to get clear.
Having some bastard appear on a path behind his crew had Phoenix shifting.
Taking a shot. He missed. Not by much, but enough the guy didn’t immediately react.
Looked around a few times as if he wasn’t sure what had happened.
Phoenix adjusted for the extra gust of wind—fired again.
Hit the guy in his thigh. Not enough to kill him, just piss him off.
Three clicks of his comm let his team know they had a bogie on their six.
That he was beyond Phoenix’s range. Waiting to see if he’d blown their position with the noise and miss wasn’t fun.
Had him holding his breath, again. Wishing they had their own drone overhead.
Had better comm systems that couldn’t be jammed or overheard.
A double click back eased the tension. Meant they’d dealt with the issue before the bastard had alerted everyone else.
Knowing he’d been lucky to hit the guy at all didn’t make Phoenix any less frustrated.
Ease the guilt that immediately reared in his gut.
A reminder of what he’d already lost with Shawn.
That Phoenix couldn’t afford any misses.
It didn’t matter what the range was. If it was realistic or not. He needed to have their backs. Period.
The thought had him picking up his rifle and other supplies and wading through the snow to one of the other sniper’s nest. He didn’t like taking up a position he hadn’t personally chosen, but he needed to get closer.
Hope that Parker’s men would think he was one of theirs if they had a way of checking.
Took Phoenix a while to reach the spot, stopping every minute to scan the area—see if his team needed help.
He’d made one more shot en route before finally reaching the nest and bedding down to resume his overwatch.
Cannon had spread his buddies out. Had Crow and Priest on one side, Bishop and Link on the other.
Phoenix couldn’t see Gibson or Dungeon, which meant they were flanking the perimeter.
Giving the group coverage from the opposite side.
Maybe trying to sneak into the base from multiple directions.
It also meant Phoenix would need to be leery of any possible crossfire. That he didn’t catch any of them if they popped out along with a few tangos. Not easy with the four or five seconds of lag time, but he’d be vigilant.
Seeing the camp erupt into a series of muzzle flashes had him cursing.
Scanning the area to see how he could help.
A group racing in from the left was his first concern.
Three shots, three hits. Didn’t eliminate all of them but it thinned the herd enough the remaining three ducked for cover.
Gave Cannon a chance to move in behind them—disappear into their ranks.
Ten seconds, and his boss was back out. Nothing moving where the men had taken refuge. Just that eerie calm radiating off Cannon, even through the scope. The man was scary. And he was in full Delta mode.
Phoenix followed Cannon’s progress, scanning in front and behind before tracking the rest of his team.
Crow and Priest slinking out from behind one of the old buildings—darting into the next.
Bishop and Link appearing on the opposite side.
Eliminating two men then heading for the same run-down structure Crow had entered.
More mercenaries appeared around the buildings, all converging on his team. Phoenix dropped as many as he could until the snow exploded fifty feet from his position. The missile blowing huge chunks of snow into the air. Raining icy pellets and bits of brush down over his head.
He shook off the debris, then focused on backing up his team, again.
It had only been a matter of time before Parker’s unit figured out there was a sniper in the mix.
Phoenix was lucky he’d lasted this long undetected.
At least, it didn’t appear that the group was using Stingers.
Which meant, they’d have to get better at targeting him if they wanted to actually stop his assault.
The next RPG struck closer. Not enough to deter him, but it hampered his abilities to take a shot. Probably saved a life due to him waiting for the billow of snow to clear.
Phoenix made up for it by dropping two more men in quick succession—wounding a third when his shot dipped low. Grazed the mercenary’s thigh. But it slowed the guy down. Had him retreating behind some cover.
Having his team charge out of the building amidst a hail of gunfire upped the ante.
Had Phoenix shifting to target anyone outside his team’s normal parameters.
Guys that might get lucky. Like the asshole trying to climb up on one of the snowcats—get a better sight line on Cannon’s crew.
The man Phoenix eliminated a few seconds later before he’d taken a shot.
He panned back over when a series of snowmobiles punched out of the back of one building, one of them pulling a sled packed with weather-proof containers. What were most likely the bio-weapon cases they’d found back at the lodge.
The rest of the mercenaries broke off once the machines were gone, disappearing into the darkness. Except the assholes still launching missiles Phoenix’s way. They were entrenched. Seemed determined to get some payback.
Hearing the telltale whistle of an incoming rocket had Phoenix moving. Grabbing his rifle and diving off to the left just moments before the RPG hit the nest. Blew the entire spot into a mass of swirling snow and bits of metal. Buried him beneath ice and chunks of broken branches.
Was the helicopter on its way or was that just his head throbbing? Beating with every hard pump of his heart? He couldn’t tell. Could barely breathe past the pressure in his chest. The weight of the snow covering his torso.
Took him a few minutes to focus. Get his muscles to work. Dig himself out. Cover his head when another round landed off to his left, the resulting sound wave making the scenery dip left and right. He tried to shake it off, crawling away from the massive crater before the bastards reloaded.
Buzzing in his ear had him groaning. Fumbling for his comm so he could tell whoever was trying to contact him to fuck off.
“Phoenix? Damn it, Vale, you gotta move.” Miller. And the man sounded as animated as Phoenix had ever heard the Brit. “We can’t get to the arse launching the RPGs, and there are more on the way. They must have some kind of visual on you. Vale?”
Another jolt of pain as he pressed the button, only to have a blast of static fill his head. Scatter his brain the way the last explosion had. He had enough sense to keep crawling—put more distance between him and that last two hits—when the beating of rotors filled the air.
Phoenix looked up as Olivia swept in low over the trees, Relic unleashing a barrage of fire somewhere off to the southeast. There was a flash of return fire. Of a few tracers lighting up the air—a missile exploding off course to the right—then she was banking off. Heading straight for him.
Relic continued to target the area as best he could as Olivia pulled into a low hover, blasting a wash of snow and ice over top of Phoenix.
His earpiece clicked a few times, her voice echoing in and out between more pockets of static before she released one of the controls long enough to wave at him.
Phoenix pushed onto his hands and knees, still trying to shake off the near misses, as he stumbled toward the chopper, damn near falling onto Relic’s legs when she turned to give him easier access to the open door.
His buddy reached over and yanked him inside, dragging him clear of the door before they were moving. Gaining speed then peeling off.
There was more gunfire. A spray of casings next to him on the floor as Olivia headed off, some of the return fire pinging through the cabin.
Phoenix heard some distant chatter, but it got lost to the renewed ringing in his ears.
That pounding in his head. It wasn’t until Relic gave him a firm shake a few minutes later, Phoenix was able to push up—take stock.
They were out of range on some snow-covered track, nothing but darkness visible beyond the machine. He blinked a few times to get everything to focus, cursing when he finally took in the bigger picture. Holes appeared in the body of the aircraft, some blood splattered across one wall.
Phoenix glanced at Relic, shaking his head. “You’ve been hit, again.”
The man simply shrugged. “One caught my arm. No big deal.”
“Right, except where you were already seeing double from the blood loss before we even started.” He turned to Olivia. “You hit, too?”
“A couple of grazes, but nothing serious, like the concussion you just got. All those bits of shrapnel in your body.”
Shrapnel?
He looked down, noting the patches of blood on his pants. A few on his torso where the bits of metal had snuck in around his vest. But, between the numbing cold and coursing adrenaline, he wasn’t feeling much of anything, right now. “Considering it was a damn good hit, I got lucky.”
The narrowing of her eyes said what she didn’t. That she didn’t agree. That the only luck he’d achieved was not being killed outright.
He gave her a smile. “Thanks for the save, even if it was a crazy-ass move. They have RPGs.”
Relic snorted. “No shit. We also knew you wouldn’t last through another hit, so...you’re welcome. Now, are we gonna go get that asshole, Parker, or sit here and lick our wounds?”
“What about Cannon?”
“They’ve procured a machine and are heading for that truck you left on the side of the road.
They’re going to try to get to the airport before that inbound plane lands.
There’s not enough room for everyone in here.
Not when they’ll insist on bringing all the boxes of canisters Parker couldn’t bugger off with.
We were already overloaded on the ride in.
And no, we’re not leaving you behind, so. ..”
Phoenix glanced out the window. Waited for the flashbacks to start.
For his lungs to shut down. His heart rate to kick up.
But just when the images began taking shape—overshadow the fact he would have died if Olivia hadn’t risked hers and Relic’s lives to grab him—Olivia called his name.
Got him to focus on her. Had those memories washing back into gray.
She nodded. “Flying’s just like riding a bike, yeah?”
He chuckled, the tension from the past several months finally starting to ease. The realization that it wasn’t flying he’d truly been afraid of. It was a future without her. Without the prospect of something better. “Sure, except where it seems determined to kill me.”
“So, you’re saying it’s like everything else in your life, then.”
Hell, he couldn’t argue with that. He shook his head. “The weather sucks.”
She grinned. “It’s a proper mess.”
“They’ll have weapons. Will try to shoot us down, and I only have my rifle. Whatever else is in here, though, it looks like Relic’s gone through most of his rounds.”
“I’ve got my Walther if that makes you feel any better.”
He laughed. Fuck, he loved her. “We’ll probably plow into a mountain.”
“Probably.”
“Sounds like my kind of fun.” He gave her another nod. “Let’s go. I’ve got a score to settle.”