Read Online Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online Page B

broke the tension among them. They knew from three years of experience that red sunrises were an ominous sign.
    The light of day shone dully across the sky. Off to Maya’s left, she saw the three new aircraft flying in a loose formation, staying far enough apart that they couldn’t be hit as a unit by a missile and destroyed. At least York was smart enough not to fly in a tight formation—she’d give him that. Maya could barely make out Dallas’s aircraft, positioned a mile on the other side of the group. They had an hour to go before they reached the base. And an hour would feel like a lifetime when she knew the Kamovs were up and hunting them.
    “Break, break!” Dallas called. “We’ve got a visual on a Kamov at eleven o’clock!”
    Instantly, Maya thumbed the radio. “Rocky One, hightail it out of here. We’ve got company. Over.”
    “Roger. Over and out.”
    Maya sucked in a breath and cursed as she saw thelong shape of the Black Shark with its coaxial rotors coming down out of the sky toward the fleeing aircraft.
    “Damn! Come on, Jess, let’s get with it!” She punched fuel into the Apache engines. The aircraft instantly responded, the motors deepening in sound as they flew toward the attacking Kamov, which was trying to get a bead on one of the escaping U.S. aircraft. Right now, Maya thought, York was probably pissing in his pants over this. He was a combat pilot in a combat aircraft with no ammunition. Nada. And he was probably hotter than a two-dollar pistol about it. She didn’t blame him.
    “Whoa!” Jess yelled. “Another Kamov at nine o’clock, starboard!”
    That was two of them. Maya thumbed the radio. “Dallas, I’ll take the one at nine. You take the one at eleven. Over.”
    “Roger, you got it. Out.” Dallas’s voice was tight with tension.
    Maya banked the screaming Apache to the right. She spotted the sleek Russian machine trying to go after the escaping Blackhawk below it. The U.S. aircraft had scattered in three different directions like birds that had been shot at. The Blackhawk had dropped quickly in altitude and was making for the cloud cover. The only problem was that once the Blackhawk entered the clouds, the pilot would have to go on instrumentation in an area he didn’t know, while being pursued by a Kamov pilot who knew this territory like the back of his hand.
    “Damn,” Maya whispered. She sent the Apache into a steep dive. The machine screamed and cranked out, the beating pulsations of the rotors thumping throughher tense body. Gripping the controls, Maya grimaced, her lips lifting away from her clenched teeth.
    “Put a rocket on ’em, Jess.”
    “Roger. I got a fix!”
    “Fire when ready.”
    They were arcing at a steep, banking dive toward the Kamov, which was closing in on the slower Blackhawk. Maya knew the shot would be wide. She hoped it would be close enough to scare off the Kamov. Or at least make him turn and pick on them instead of an unarmed helicopter.
    “Fire!” Jess cried.
    There was a flash of light from the starboard wing where the rocket launched. Maya followed the trail of the speeding weapon as it careened toward the Kamov.
    “Fire two more!”
    “Roger. One sec…firing now!”
    Two more rockets left the pod on the right wing of the Apache.
    Maya watched as all three streaked toward the Kamov. Satisfaction rose in her as the first one dived in front of its nose. The pilot had seemed so intent on pursuing the Blackhawk that he wasn’t aware of them—until now. The problem with the Kamov was that it was a single seater, and the pilot not only had to fly the damn thing, but work all the instruments, as well. That led to attention overload, and Maya was betting the pilot had been so engaged in downing the Blackhawk that he hadn’t had time to check who else might be around.
    The Kamov suddenly banked sharply to the left. The other two rockets flew harmlessly past it.
    Good. Maya sucked air between her teeth as she pushed the diving Apache