Read Online BRAINRUSH 02 - The Enemy of My Enemy by Richard Bard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Richard Bard
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in Monte Carlo, where Jake had used his new talents to manipulate the roulette wheel in order to gain the funds necessary for the rescue mission in Afghanistan.
Jake swerved the Jeep onto the airport frontage road. The tires squealed in protest. Tony’s Highlander and Snake’s pickup were close behind. There was still no sign of the vans. Jake pulled up to the unmanned electric gate and punched in his personal code. The gate swung open and Jake gunned through.
Resembling several long lines of extremely wide storage units, each of the eleven rows of hangars stretched over six hundred feet long. The rows were situated side by side with just enough space in between to allow an aircraft to taxi to and from its private garage.
The airport was alive with early morning activity. Jake saw one plane touch down, another on approach, and several more in the traffic pattern. Aircraft were parked three-deep in the holding area at the south end of the runway, waiting their turn for takeoff clearance. Support vehicles moved back and forth along the side of the taxiways. Jake braked as a twin-engine Beechcraft taxied out from between the rows of hangars in front of him.
The Sabreliner was housed near the end of the eighth row of hangars, just two rows away. Jake had flown the plane periodically over the past few months, making sure the inspections were current, the tanks filled, and all the emergency gear was stowed and ready to go. He and Tony had taken great pains to make sure everything they needed was on the plane for a quick getaway: com-gear, weapons, ammo, ready-to-eat meals, clothes, water, even a couple of games for Sarafina and Tony’s children. Jake had prayed they’d never have to use it.
When the Beechcraft was halfway through the intersection, Jake swerved around its tail, sped up, and made a sharp turn in between rows eight and nine. What he saw next sent a slithering eel up his spine.
He slammed the brakes. A car was parked a hundred yards ahead of him—in front of his space. The vehicle was empty. All four doors were open, as was the hangar. He spoke into the speakerphone, trying to sound calm for the children’s sake. “Ah, we got company.”
“Shit,” Tony said over the phone as the Highlander pulled up behind Jake.
“Bad word!” Josh said. He rocked back and forth in his seat.
Jake heard the telltale click of the safety being released on Becker’s assault rifle.
“ Jefe .” Papa’s voice was tense. The pickup slid in front of the Jeep. “Me and Snake will do a little drive-by. You’ve got to go to plan B.”
This was plan B, Jake thought. Part of his mind raced through alternatives while another part wondered how in the hell Battista’s guys continued to be one step ahead of him. The two vans had to be nearby. If they cornered him here…
“I won’t forget this, guys,” Jake said. “Show ’em what’s up and we’ll see you on the flip side.”
“Hoorah,” Papa replied.
Jake saw Papa and Snake slam full magazines into their assault rifles. The pickup laid a patch of smoking rubber on its way toward the hangar door.
Jake made a U-turn and stepped on the gas.
“Now what?” Bradley asked, bracing himself as the Jeep swerved around the end of the row of hangars.
Good question, Jake thought. Without the plane, their escape route was cut off. He said, “First step, get away from the airport.”
“Then?”
Jake’s reply froze on his lips. The two vans careened onto the taxiway at the other end of the flight line.
“Dammit!”
“Bad word, bad word!” Josh shouted.
Jake reacted instinctively to the threat. He stomped on the accelerator and angled the Jeep directly toward the holding area at the end of the runway.
“Lock ’n’ load, Tony,” Jake said into the speakerphone. “We need a new ride.”
**
Papa positioned his assault rifle outside the passenger window of Snake’s speeding pickup.
Papa had met Jake when he and his four-man fire team was hired to help rescue
Jake swerved the Jeep onto the airport frontage road. The tires squealed in protest. Tony’s Highlander and Snake’s pickup were close behind. There was still no sign of the vans. Jake pulled up to the unmanned electric gate and punched in his personal code. The gate swung open and Jake gunned through.
Resembling several long lines of extremely wide storage units, each of the eleven rows of hangars stretched over six hundred feet long. The rows were situated side by side with just enough space in between to allow an aircraft to taxi to and from its private garage.
The airport was alive with early morning activity. Jake saw one plane touch down, another on approach, and several more in the traffic pattern. Aircraft were parked three-deep in the holding area at the south end of the runway, waiting their turn for takeoff clearance. Support vehicles moved back and forth along the side of the taxiways. Jake braked as a twin-engine Beechcraft taxied out from between the rows of hangars in front of him.
The Sabreliner was housed near the end of the eighth row of hangars, just two rows away. Jake had flown the plane periodically over the past few months, making sure the inspections were current, the tanks filled, and all the emergency gear was stowed and ready to go. He and Tony had taken great pains to make sure everything they needed was on the plane for a quick getaway: com-gear, weapons, ammo, ready-to-eat meals, clothes, water, even a couple of games for Sarafina and Tony’s children. Jake had prayed they’d never have to use it.
When the Beechcraft was halfway through the intersection, Jake swerved around its tail, sped up, and made a sharp turn in between rows eight and nine. What he saw next sent a slithering eel up his spine.
He slammed the brakes. A car was parked a hundred yards ahead of him—in front of his space. The vehicle was empty. All four doors were open, as was the hangar. He spoke into the speakerphone, trying to sound calm for the children’s sake. “Ah, we got company.”
“Shit,” Tony said over the phone as the Highlander pulled up behind Jake.
“Bad word!” Josh said. He rocked back and forth in his seat.
Jake heard the telltale click of the safety being released on Becker’s assault rifle.
“ Jefe .” Papa’s voice was tense. The pickup slid in front of the Jeep. “Me and Snake will do a little drive-by. You’ve got to go to plan B.”
This was plan B, Jake thought. Part of his mind raced through alternatives while another part wondered how in the hell Battista’s guys continued to be one step ahead of him. The two vans had to be nearby. If they cornered him here…
“I won’t forget this, guys,” Jake said. “Show ’em what’s up and we’ll see you on the flip side.”
“Hoorah,” Papa replied.
Jake saw Papa and Snake slam full magazines into their assault rifles. The pickup laid a patch of smoking rubber on its way toward the hangar door.
Jake made a U-turn and stepped on the gas.
“Now what?” Bradley asked, bracing himself as the Jeep swerved around the end of the row of hangars.
Good question, Jake thought. Without the plane, their escape route was cut off. He said, “First step, get away from the airport.”
“Then?”
Jake’s reply froze on his lips. The two vans careened onto the taxiway at the other end of the flight line.
“Dammit!”
“Bad word, bad word!” Josh shouted.
Jake reacted instinctively to the threat. He stomped on the accelerator and angled the Jeep directly toward the holding area at the end of the runway.
“Lock ’n’ load, Tony,” Jake said into the speakerphone. “We need a new ride.”
**
Papa positioned his assault rifle outside the passenger window of Snake’s speeding pickup.
Papa had met Jake when he and his four-man fire team was hired to help rescue
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