Games of State - Tom Clancy [167]
August had his fish. But he didn't signal the Osprey. He had something else in mind.
Looking forward, he began shimmying along the boom toward Manigot. The headwind was devastating as he inched ahead. As he neared the cabin, the LongRanger suddenly righted itself and swung off toward the east. The Osprey got a late start keeping up. The cable played out and the LongRanger shuddered violently as the cable grew taut and the hoist held.
August slid from the top of the tail boom to the side.
He looked up to make sure that Manigot was okay, and then he looked down. His legs were less than two yards from the skid. They were two dark, windy yards, but the tips of the skid were directly below him. If he released himself, he'd have to pass them on his way down.
He tucked his arms at his sides and chucked all his rules about planning. This was one of those things like a shot from the key: either you made the basket or you didn't.
He removed his gloves and let them drop. He undid the metal clasp which held him to the line which girdled the tail boom. He waited for the LongRanger to stabilize again, and then he dropped.
August reached out at once. Free of the chopper, he was blown backward. But not so far backward that he couldn't reach the rear strut of the skid. He hooked it with his left arm, quickly reached over with his right, and struggled to pull himself over. The wind was intense and he hung down at a forty-five-degree angle, slapping against the baggage compartment as he fought to haul himself in.
Now he saw the pilot look back at him. There was someone between the seats of the flight deck, on the floor, struggling to rise. As the pilot turned away, he tried to throw the chopper into another dive. The cable held, both vehicles shook, and then the pilot looked back again. This time, though, he was not looking at August but at the cable.
Slowly, he began backing the helicopter up. With a flash of terror, August realized what he was trying to do. He was attempting to use the rotor to cut the cable. If he couldn't get away he was going to take everybody down.
August scrambled feverishly to drag his leg up over the skid. As soon as he was standing, he reached for the cabin door and literally yanked it open. He hurled himself into the passenger compartment. With two strides he was in the open flight deck. Stepping over the semiconscious man on the floor, August cocked his arm into a tight jujitsu chamber, with the elbow waist-high, straight back, and punched the pilot in the side of the head. With piston-like speed, he hit him a second and third time, then pulled the dazed man from the seat.
Dropping into it, August held the control stick steady while he turned to the man on the floor.
"Hausen? Get up! I need you to fly this damn thing!"
The German was groggy. "I I tried to steady it for you twice."
"Thanks," August said. "Now c'mon--"
Slowly, Hausen began to drag himself into the copilot's seat.
"A little faster, please!" August shouted. "I have very little idea what I'm doing here!"
Wheezing, Hausen flopped into the seat, dragged a sleeve across his bloody eyes, and took the stick.
"It's okay," the German said. "I I have it."
Bolting from the pilot's seat, the Colonel angrily threw Dominique into the cabin, then went back to the open door. He leaned out. Boisard was manfully making his way to Manigot.
"We're secure in here!" August yelled. "When you have him, undo the cable!"
Boisard acknowledged and August ducked back inside.
"You okay up there?" the Colonel shouted to Hausen.
"I'll be fine," the German said wearily.
"Keep it steady until you get the word," August said. "Then we'll head back to the factory."
Hausen acknowledged. Bending over Dominique, August picked him up, plunked him into a chair in the cabin, and stood in front of him.
"I don't