49. Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter forty-nine
Noble felt his mobile vibrating in his pocket, but he didn’t have time for phone calls.
He stood in the crane, feeling the construction equipment sway with a strong gust of wind.
He’d been hoping to catch two with that car stunt, but no such luck.
The captain had managed to leap clear at the last moment.
That left Noble to deal with three trained killers.
Three against one.
As the dust settled, Captain Zeqiri gave a shout. Three weapons swiveled up toward the crane.
Noble stepped to the open door of the control room.
He had his belt in one hand and Sideburn’s Dragunov rifle strapped across his back.
A trio of high-tension wires connected to the super structure of the crane, to keep the construction from swaying violently under heavy winds.
If he stretched, he could just reach the thick metal braid.
He didn’t allow himself time to think. No chance to second guess.
It was his only escape route and he knew it.
As the first of the guns started to chatter, Noble slapped his leather belt around the cable and pushed off from the platform.
Zeqiri and his goons opened up with full auto barrages meant to cut through the windows and kill anybody inside.
Bullets impacted the metal walls of the control room with blisteringly loud twangs that Noble felt in his bones.
Glass exploded. A ricochet went whining overhead, missing Noble by mere inches.
He went zipping through the air, wind in his hair and his legs tucked up to reduce drag, increasing his speed.
The leather belt made a loud purring against the braided steel cable.
The line had a steep enough angle that Noble didn’t have to worry about splatting when he reached the ground.
He was moving fast, swaying side to side as he zipped over piles of rubble strewn around the scrapyard.
Captain Zeqiri and his men spotted him sliding clear of the crane and tried to adjust their aim, but moving targets are hard to hit. An angry storm of lead bees buzzed along behind Noble, trying to catch up.
For a moment, Noble felt a little like Spider-man swinging along through the concrete canyons of New York. It was a heady feeling. Kind of like being a superhero.
Then he sniffed smoke.
One glance was enough to confirm his suspicions.
His plan to escape the crane had been nearly flawless, only he hadn’t counted on the steel cable burning through his leather belt. Speed and friction had eaten through the leather faster than Noble thought possible. He could feel the belt start to separate.
He was still suspended twenty feet above the ground, with piles of deadly jagged metal below.
“No, no…” Noble said to no one but himself. He needed the belt to hold together just a little longer.
The belt, however, was not inclined to grant any wishes. It was governed instead by the laws of physics.
“Oh cra—”
The belt snapped.
Noble went plummeting down fifteen feet, arms and legs flailing like he could run on air. Momentum continued to carry him forward, and it was the only thing that saved him from crashing down into a mound of sharp scrap metal made up of broken appliances and rusting bicycles.
A little further and he might have come down in one of the clearings dotted throughout the junkyard. Instead he was going to land atop an old hatchback with a crumpled front end.
At the last possible moment, Noble’s training kicked in. He tucked his knees and prepared to roll with the impact, trying to angle his body sideways, the way he’d been taught in Army Airborne School.
He came down hard with a hollow boom on the roof of the hatchback, leaving a sizable dent in the fiberglass.
A shockwave rippled up through his knees into his lower back.
Momentum carried him over the side. He pitched into the dirt on his shoulder and rolled.
All the air went out of his lungs in a painful cough.
The rifle dug into his back with gleeful kicks and jabs that would leave deep black welts tomorrow.
Noble finally came to rest on his stomach, left cheek pressed against the earth, stars wheeling in his vision.
His body felt like someone had backed over him with a dump truck.
Stabbing jolts of pain radiated out from his knees.
His back ached and his brain felt like it had a static electrical explosion happening inside his skull.
He coughed. It was just a weak little breath that escaped his lungs.
The fingers of one hand flexed, then the other hand. He moved his toes. He was alive and nothing seemed broken. That was something.
He had to get up and get moving. Captain Zeqiri and his goons would be along any moment.