Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [113]
The seven remaining British hovercrafts closed in.
‘Book!’ Rebound’s voice yelled. ‘I need help over here!’
‘Hang on! I’m coming over!’ Book yelled as he yanked on the steering yoke of his LCAC.
The hovercraft swung right – around and behind Rebound’s transport, cutting in between it and the approaching British hovercrafts.
Book looked out to his right just as a volley of bullets peppered his side windows. Scratch-marks appeared, but the glass didn’t crack. It was bullet-resistant Lexan glass.
The British hovercrafts were close now. Maybe twenty yards away. Whipping across the icy landscape.
They closed in on the three American hovercrafts like a pack of hungry sharks.
‘Book! Help me!’
Book was travelling behind Rebound now.
Swarming in from their right, however, were four of the British hovercrafts.
Book pushed open one of his side windows with the barrel of his MP-5 and pulled the trigger. A line of bulletholes strafed the ice alongside the nearest, speeding British hovercraft.
And then all of a sudden the British hovercraft swung in hard, and rammed the side of Book’s hovercraft and Book was thrown out of his chair by the impact.
‘Scarecrow! Where are you!’ Book yelled.
Book climbed back into his chair and looked out through his side window at the British hovercraft next to him. It was so close that Book could see the driver – a man, dressed completely in black, wearing the trademark black balaclava of the SAS. There were two other men in the back of the British hovercraft, also wearing black. Book saw one of them yank open the side door of their hovercraft.
They were going to board him –
And then suddenly the British hovercraft filled with light and its reinforced glass windows shattered as one and blew out of their frames.
Book watched in amazement as the hovercraft alongside him exploded into flames and fell away behind him. Then he looked over his shoulder and saw Schofield’s orange hovercraft sweep around behind him. The smoke trail of a Stinger still lingered in the air in front of it.
‘Thanks, Scare –’
‘Book! Watch your left!’ Schofield’s voice shouted.
The impact knocked Book sideways through the air and the world tilted crazily as his hovercraft was lifted off the ground by the stunning impact, and then suddenly – whump – the big hovercraft thudded back down to earth without any loss of speed.
Book was totally disoriented. He was trying to climb back into the driver’s seat when another smashing impact rocked his hovercraft again, this time from the right.
‘Scarecrow!’ Book yelled.
‘– I’m in a lot of trouble here!’
‘I see you, Book! I see you! I’m coming!’ Schofield peered out through the snow-streaked windshield of his own speeding hovercraft.
He saw Book’s hovercraft, racing forward across the ice plain in front of him. On either side of it were two of the black British hovercrafts, taking turns in ramming it hard.
‘Renshaw! How’s that new Stinger coming?’
‘Almost there . . .’ Renshaw said from behind Schofield. He was furiously trying to jam a new tube into the gripstock.
‘Hold on, Book!’ Schofield said.
Schofield gunned the engine of his LCAC and the hovercraft responded by increasing its speed. Gradually, it began to haul in the three hovercrafts in front of it – Book’s and the two British ones.
Slowly, gradually, Schofield’s orange hovercraft overtook the three hovercrafts on the left-hand side and then suddenly, swiftly, it swept across in front of them.
Schofield looked back through his rear windshield, through the blur of his rear turbofan and saw the three hovercrafts behind him. Schofield then snapped to look forward and he saw Rebound’s transport hovercraft racing across the ice plain about twenty yards to his left.
‘Rebound!’ Schofield said.
‘Yeah!’
‘Get ready to go in and grab Book!’
‘What?’
‘Just get ready!’
‘What are you gonna do?’
‘A slingshot,’ Schofield said as he drew his MP-5. He turned to Renshaw. ‘Mr Renshaw . . .’
‘What?’
‘Hold on.’
And with that, Schofield slipped the hovercraft into neutral and yanked the steering yoke hard to the right.