Black Rain

It tracked that way for several seconds before turning and following the curved line of the trees, circling the perimeter like a shark.

Danielle noticed Verhoven looking toward the jungle. “We’ll never make it,” she said.

He seemed to agree. “The temple, then,” he said. “It’s our only chance.”

They bolted, sprinting for the ancient Mayan temple and its thick stone walls: the only place in sight that could offer them shelter from the helicopter’s lethal guns.

As they ran toward the temple, Danielle saw McCarter, Susan and one of the porters running away from it in a panic. “Back,” she shouted. “Go back.”

They seemed to get the message, stopping in their tracks and turning around.

The helicopter was turning in once again, dropping in behind the remaining two porters and stirring up huge clouds of dust. It closed on them rapidly, a great beast chasing down prey. Its guns flashed and ribbons of dirt flew up around the men. They tumbled to the ground in awkward heaps and the helicopter buzzed over them and then soared up over the trees once again.

By now Danielle and Verhoven had reached the base of the temple. “Up top,” Verhoven ordered. “Inside!”

As McCarter’s group scrambled up the stairs, Verhoven’s men joined them. The three of them had managed to grab their own rifles and a box of ammunition.

“Damn good,” Verhoven said. “Now move.”

Danielle clambered up the stairs, hearing the NOTAR but not seeing it. She reached the top, took a step forward, then saw the helicopter heading straight for her. She turned and dove back down the stairs just as the pilot fired. Shells skipped off the temple’s roof, burning the air. The NOTAR followed, roaring overhead, ten feet above her.

Now was her chance. Bruised and scratched, she hustled across the roof, squeezing through the portal and into the familiar darkness.

Verhoven’s men followed, but he remained out of sight, even as the chainsaw buzz of the helicopter closed in once again. Seconds later, he dove through the opening, tumbling down the stairs with gunfire chasing him. Shells caromed off the stone roof and several found the opening, ricocheting wildly off the solid walls.

Danielle looked around. Everyone seemed to be okay.

“What the hell is going on?” McCarter shouted.

Danielle ignored him, listening to the noise above. The NOTAR had turned.

“He’s coming back,” she said.

Verhoven looked up at the portal atop the stairs. “Probably going to pour a shit storm of lead through this hole when he gets here.” He turned to Danielle. “Get to the back room. Keep your heads down.”

McCarter led the others into the back room while Verhoven and his men took what cover they could, pressing themselves into the walls that fronted the stairs, crouching and reloading their rifles. Danielle stayed with him.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

Verhoven looked at his men. “When he passes.”

They nodded their understanding.

“What the hell are you going to do?” Danielle demanded.

“We’re going to shoot the bugger down,” Verhoven replied. “He’ll come in slow to try to aim down this slot, but he’s got to keep moving in case we’re not all down here. When he passes we’re going up. It’ll be a firestorm in here before that, so get back there with the others.”

The noise above grew louder. Danielle looked toward the darker recesses of the temple, where the rest of the group had gone. “Screw that,” she said. Six months of weapons training were about to get used.

“Then get behind me,” Verhoven ordered.

Danielle ducked in against the wall behind Verhoven and seconds later all hell broke loose. Cannon fire poured down the gullet of the temple, sending shards and sparks and chunks of stone flying through the chamber.

One ricochet smashed the stone in front of Verhoven, blasting chips out of the wall that bit into his face. He spun backward, knocking into Danielle. Another shot tore the rifle out of his lieutenant’s hand. Three seconds of terror and noise and the NOTAR had passed. The instant it did, Verhoven and the two men who still held guns scrambled up the stairs.

Danielle followed, bursting out into the light just as Verhoven’s group opened fire on the fleeing helicopter. She was surprised at how far away it was and guessed that it had sped up after making its pass.

She brought her own rifle up and then noticed a glowing red dot on the back of the man to her left.

“Get down!” she shouted.

It was too late. The man jerked forward with the impact of the shell, falling face-first into a spray of his own blood.

“Sniper behind us,” she yelled, as the others hit the deck.

She turned and scrambled for the edge. Half a dozen men in fatigues were running toward them from the north. She fired into the pack, scattering the group and taking at least one man down. She pulled back as they returned fire. “Five or six on this side,” she shouted.

“More on this side,” Verhoven yelled back.