Page 104 of Enemy of My Enemy

“We don’t have a minute!” Scott hollered into his radio. “We’re taking fire!”

“Skies are not clear, Ghost Six!”

“We don’t have a choice! Get in the boats! Get in!”

Agents jumped into the four speedboats along the dock. Irwin slid in with the wounded Agent Hawkins, holding pressure on his back as his partner fired into the woods. Sasha and Sergey were supposed to go in Welby’s boat, but gunfire blocked their path, and Sasha hauled Sergey into the back of Jack and Ethan’s.

Scott cursed and jumped on board, still firing, as Russian soldiers ran for the dock. “Go! Go!”

Ethan moved to the speedboat’s control console, pushing Jack down beside him, behind the controls and out of sight. Jack rested his rifle on the speedboat’s rail, firing shots from behind Ethan.

Two of the boats took off, Irwin and the wounded Hawkins in the lead.

“All agents, be advised,” Scott growled into his radio as Ethan gunned the engines and roared away. Daniels, in his boat, followed close behind on Ethan’s six. “Skies are not clear. Repeat, skies are not clear.” He dropped opposite Jack and took aim at the dock.

Overhead, the scream of fighter jets banking broke the sky. Sasha knelt next to Sergey in the speedboat’s rear tray. “MiGs,” he shouted. “And at least two choppers.”

Bullets sliced into the waters around the speedboat. Water rose into the air like geysers. Ethan swerved, and Jack crashed into his knees. He reached down, steadying Jack one-handed as he spun the boat, trying to evade the fighters’ gunfire.

“Where’s our air support?” he hollered.

“Haunted House, we’re taking heavy fire!” Scott shouted into the radio. “We need air support, now!”

“Ghost Six, it’s turning into a shootout at the airport. They’re locking down the runways. Bringing in tanks to block our takeoff and men in position to storm the plane. We’ve got guys on the ground holding them off for now.”

“Don’t let them close that runway. Take off, now!”

“What about you? What about Vigilant and Vigor?”

“Get in the air! And get us some Goddamn air support!”

As Scott spoke, the fighters peeled off, and the roaring whirr of an attack chopper moved in. Water sprayed, caught in the rotors’ backwash, and nearly blinded Ethan. A spotlight winked on, illuminating the waters dead ahead, and backlighting the ugly, harsh outline of a Russian attack chopper staring them down.

Ethan turned the boat hard, Daniels still on his tail. Everyone opened fire on the chopper as one. Bullets plinked off the metal hull, a seemingly endless stream peppering the attack helicopter. The chopper turned, following Ethan’s boat with its searchlight, and then veered away.

“Everyone all right?” Scott hollered. “Mr. President?”

Two shouts of “fine” rose from both ends of the boat, Jack and Sergey speaking together.

“Two fucking presidents. My fucking luck.” Scott’s voice shook. “Get ready!” he shouted as the roar of fighter jets closed in again. “They’re coming back!”

Instead of the MiGs screaming overhead and raining fire on their boats, four American fighter jets flew low over the sea, buzzing Ethan and Daniels. They banked hard, one launching a missile.

A whoosh and then a hiss crackled above, and white steam trailed behind the launch. Seconds later, a fireball lit over the sea, the largest firework Ethan had ever seen.

One of the attack choppers split apart in the sky.

Scott whooped. Over the radio, Haunted House chimed in.“Fighters on station, Ghost Six. We’re preparing for takeoff now with an escort.”

“That other chopper is still out there.” Scott leaned into Ethan. “We’ve got to get across this section to the east bank. Olympic Stadium is there. We designated it the emergency site in case of a disaster.”

“I’d call this a disaster.”

Another missile hissed over their heads. The roar of an aerial dogfight fought between the fastest fighter jets on the planet shook the skies. Heavy guns blazed and tracers streaked through the night. Jet fuel and gunpowder choked Ethan’s throat. Salt spray clung to his skin, his clothes. He reached down, blind, for Jack.

Jack gripped the back of his leg.

He turned toward the south bank as Scott radioed the other agents, ordering them to head there and form up, protecting their boats and cargo. Daniels stayed close, right in Ethan’s wake.