Matt Hilton - Slash and burn

Coming painfully to my feet, I searched the sky for the helicopter. Dust and smoke obscured my view. There was a terrible stench in the air, a mix of fuel and burning plastic and eviscerated bodies. I could hear the chopper, but I couldn't see it. That meant they couldn't see me either. Stooping, I ran for the wrecked 4?4. I searched for the dropped rifle but couldn't locate it. All I found was the driver hung up in his seat belt. Blood covered his face, but his eyes were open. He was dazed, but he caught movement in his peripheral vision and snapped his face towards me. I didn't know the man, had never seen him before, but right then we were mortal enemies. He was a professional hit man who was trying to kill me. I shot him once between his eyes. It was cold, yes, but I couldn't leave him alive.

I looked for the rifleman who'd been thrown from the wreckage. He was a steaming bundle thirty yards away. He wasn't moving. So I turned my attention back to the chopper.

I didn't have long to wait.

The chopper came roaring overhead and I was battered by the downwash of its rotor blades. Smoke from the demolished vehicles swirled round me. I used the cover to run back to the other side of the 4?4. Lifting my gun, I fired two rounds through the undercarriage. Chances of hitting the pilot were slim, but I needed them to move away from me so I could get a clear shot. Two 9 mm Parabellums through the body of the craft did the trick. The chopper swooped away, heading to a distance of a hundred yards or so before the pilot swung it round. The rifleman was now facing me and he fired a round. The bullet passed directly through the body of the 4?4. Then it continued on and I swear I felt the heat of its passing.

Rising from a crouch, I fired at the rifleman. It was a hurried shot and I didn't expect it to hit. But as the rifleman flinched back inside the craft, I scurried to the far end of the wreck. His next round went through the space I'd just vacated. I waited. I could see the chopper through a gap in the wreckage begin to drift towards me. Holding my breath, I aimed my SIG, waiting for just the right moment.

Then something happened that I didn't expect. The helicopter dropped so that it was only a yard or so above the field. A side door was thrown open and two men jumped to the floor. They immediately fanned out, then they dropped to crouches, levelling M16 assault rifles at the wreckage I was behind.

My guess was that after the first two had checked me out, they had realised I was the man they were looking for and had hurried away for extra firepower. The two in the 4?4 had possibly been out at the perimeter of Huffman's land watching for anyone coming in that way and the chopper pilot had directed them to me. They thought that six men had more chance of taking me than two. They were probably right.

I wondered how far away Rink and Harvey were.

Too far.

Then I had no more time for idle thought because the two on the ground opened up with the assault rifles and the wreckage around me was being torn to shreds. I flattened myself to the ground, began rolling side-over-side, keeping as low a profile as possible. Hot metal churned the air. A lot of the rounds were stopped by the wreckage, but as many were getting through. Bullets punched the earth close to me. All I could do was to continue rolling and trust to some higher being to get me out of there alive.

I made it to a shallow ditch at the shoulder of the road, dropped into it, and then began crawling as quickly as I could out of the line of fire.

The two men were inching forwards, continuing to unload rounds through the 4?4. Some of their bullets must have been tearing the dead driver to pieces: that only showed me how determined these killers were to finish me. The chopper took off again, flying high, the pilot taking a look to see if I was dead before the two on the ground would move in.

Catch 22. I could fire at the chopper, or I could fire at the men on the ground. Either way I'd give up my position and the others would vector in on me. If I stayed where I was and did nothing, the chopper crew would see that I'd moved away and it would only take them seconds to find me again. Then the men with the assault rifles would move in to flank me and I'd be back to square one. Whatever way I looked at things my position was pretty dire.

Snatching a quick glance along the road, I hoped to see a Windstar heading my way, but the road remained empty. It was down to me to get out of this alive.

Pulling out the Glock 17 I'd liberated from the man I'd shot at the restaurant, I readied myself. In a situation like this, I could only hope to even up the firepower a little. I raised my head just high enough to see what was going on.

The chopper passed over the 4?4, turning slowly in place as the rifleman strafed the ground where I'd been hiding. The smoke boiling from the wreck was still my ally, but that would only last until the downwash blew it apart. Rising up quickly, I fired at the rifleman. My bullet hit him, cutting a chunk from his left shoulder. The man bobbed back inside the craft and the pilot must have grabbed at the controls, as the chopper dipped violently away.

I'd hoped to kill the rifleman in the chopper, force the pilot to keep well away from another shot, effectively halving the odds against me. But I'd only winged the bastard. Cursing under my breath, I looked for the men on the ground. One of them was hidden by the smoke, but I saw the other running at a tangent across the field, seeking to cut me off. Firing at him, I forced him to the ground. The man rolled as I'd done earlier. Then on his belly he returned fire. He looked like he had military experience. I fired again and my round dug a clod of earth from in front of him, causing him to jerk back.

Immediately I began crawling again. Worst-case scenario was being caught in this ditch with a man armed with an assault rifle at either end while a third gunman hovered overhead. Making it to a point east of where the nearest man was, I again swung up on to the edge of the ditch, firing at him. As I'd been moving, so had the man. He was ten yards closer now. He fired at me; a burst of sustained fire. The earth and grass around me exploded, dirt pushing into my eyes, making me fall back down into the ditch. The son of a bitch was a decent soldier. Quickly I scrambled away. Then I rolled on to my back. The second gunman was coming along the ditch towards me.

We both fired.

A bullet scorched my left thigh but my bullet caught him directly in his stomach. The man doubled over, his forward run bringing him closer to me. He crashed to the ground and his M16 flew from his hand. He wasn't dead yet. He scrambled to grab at a sidearm strapped to his hip. I put another round through his head and this time he fell still.

Glancing at his assault rifle, I considered going for it. But then the whine of the chopper was over me again and I heard the thump of running feet and knew that the other gunman was charging at me. I was still on my back, a prone target for either of the men bringing their guns to bear on me.

The man on the ground had more chance of killing me first. I aimed both my guns at him. It was awkward, holding the guns over my head and firing backwards, but I saw that he was forced to leap to one side. It would only be seconds until he was back though. I was seriously deep in it, I realised.

The helicopter screamed over me, and I put a couple of bullets through its belly. Then I snatched my attention back to the man on the ground. I saw him rise up, his M16 raised to his shoulder. There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He caressed the trigger. Then I saw something else in his face. Indecision. He glanced to his side. The barrel of his assault rifle swung with his gaze.

A millisecond later his head disappeared under a welter of blood as a high-velocity round tore through it.