Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [115]
Book tried to get to his feet.
‘Come on!’ Rebound said urgently.
Book tried to keep his eyes focused on the black rubber skirt of Rebound’s hovercraft. Tried not to look at the white streaks of snow racing by at eighty miles an hour beneath the two speeding hovercrafts.
And then out of the corner of his eye, Book saw it.
Saw the black hovercraft materialise in the background behind Rebound’s hovercraft.
Suddenly Book heard Rebound yell, ‘Get there, Scarecrow!’ and then he saw the side door of the British hovercraft open. Saw the Milan anti-tank missile launcher appear inside it.
And then Book saw the familiar puff of smoke and he saw the missile shoot out of its launcher and fly through the air toward him, its looping white smoke trail spiralling crazily behind it, and in that instant, in that moment, Book knew it was too –
‘Book! For God’s sake, jump! Jump now! Shit!’
Book jumped.
Book flew through the air.
As he flew, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the British hovercraft explode as it was hit by an American Stinger. But it had got its own missile off before it had been hit. Book saw the white-tipped missile roll through the air toward him.
And then suddenly Book’s hands came down hard on the black rubber skirt of Rebound’s hovercraft and Book forgot about the British missile as he scratched desperately for a handhold.
Just as his feet were about to hit the speeding ground, Book got a grip on a tie-down stud on the skirt of Rebound’s hovercraft and he looked up just in time to see the British missile slam into the rear of his recently abandoned hovercraft and blow it to smithereens.
‘Have you got him?’ Schofield said into his helmet mike.
Schofield was still racing along in front of Rebound’s hovercraft – still travelling backwards. He could see Rebound’s transport speeding across the ice plain behind him.
‘We got him,’ Rebound replied. ‘He’s inside.’
‘Good,’ Schofield said.
It was then that Schofield heard the gunfire.
His head immediately snapped left and he saw them.
It was the same British hovercraft that had blasted open the side of Book’s hovercraft. Only now it had a fearsome-looking General Purpose Machine Gun – or ‘Gimpy’ as it is known – sticking out of its open side door. The large, heavy-duty machine gun was mounted on a tripod and Schofield saw a three-foot tongue of fire flare out from its barrel as it emitted a deafening, ungodly roar.
Rebound’s hovercraft took the brunt of the machine gun’s fury. Sparks and bulletholes and cracks and puncture marks burst out all over it.
A thin line of black smoke began to rise up from the rear of Rebound’s hovercraft. The hovercraft visibly began to slow.
‘Scarecrow!’ Rebound yelled. ‘We’ve got a serious problem here!’
‘I’m coming!’ Schofield said.
‘I’m hit bad and slowing down! I need to offload some weight so I can maintain my speed!’
Schofield was thinking fast. He was still travelling backwards across the ice plain. Rebound’s hovercraft was off to his right, the British hovercraft off to his left.
At last, Schofield said, ‘Mr Renshaw . . .’
‘What?’
‘Take the wheel.’
‘What?’ Renshaw said.
‘It’s just like driving a car, only with a little less responsiveness,’ Schofield said.
Renshaw stepped into the driver’s seat, took hold of the steering yoke.
‘Now, shut your eyes,’ Schofield said.
‘Huh?’
‘Just do it.’ Schofield said as he calmly raised his MP-5 . . .
. . . and blasted the forward windshield of his own hovercraft!
Renshaw covered his eyes as shards of glass exploded out all around him. When he opened his eyes again he had a completely clear view of the two hovercrafts speeding along the ice plain ‘behind’ him.
‘Okay,’ Schofield said, ‘pull us over in front of the black one.’
Renshaw gently applied pressure to the steering yoke. The hovercraft slid smoothly over to the left, so that it was in front of the black British hovercraft that was blasting away at Rebound’s hovercraft.
‘All right,’ Schofield said. ‘Hold it here.’
Schofield wrapped the shoulder strap of his MP-5 around his neck, and pulled the slide on his Desert