Unintended Consequences - By Stuart Woods

58





Everyone stood, transfixed, staring at the helicopter and its deadly cargo. Majorov used this moment to slither around the Mercedes and begin to hobble painfully toward the machine.

Then, as one man, Stone and his group dived behind the Mercedes as the firing began. The Mercedes, which seemed brand-new, began to disintegrate into small pieces of flying glass and metal, as did the two police cars behind it.

“Stay behind the engine,” Stone yelled, and they all huddled more closely together.

“This car will be gone in a minute,” Dino pointed out.

“Just stay behind the engine!” Stone yelled.

Then the firing, unaccountably, stopped. Instead of automatic weapons fire, Stone could hear the sound of a second helicopter.

“I hope to God they don’t have reinforcements coming,” Dino said.

Stone took the opportunity to peep from behind the remains of the Mercedes and saw Majorov being assisted into the big helicopter, then the machine turning away from the building. “It’s leaving,” he said. Then another helicopter hove into view, and this one was a welcome sight.

“Dino,” Stone said, “check this out. Is that a Black Hawk?”

“I believe it is,” Dino said.

“And, Holly, is that Rick LaRose behind the machine gun in the firing bay?”

Holly popped up. “One and the same!”

Rick gave them a wave as his chopper turned in pursuit of Majorov’s transport, which was beating its way at top speed toward the beach.

Stone stood up. “Is anybody hit?”

“Strangely enough, no,” Holly said.

Helga, Stanley, and Paddy got to their feet.

They all turned and looked at the two police cars that had brought them there, which were in approximately the same condition as the Mercedes.

“Anybody seen my Lincoln?” Paddy asked.

“I think I saw it on a lower level as we came up,” Holly said.

“Go find it, Paddy,” Dino said, and Paddy trotted off toward the ramp.

They all turned and watched the progress of the two helicopters and found themselves witnessing a running air battle. The two machines were banking and swerving just off the beach, four or five blocks away, and the view from the five-story parking garage gave them a princely perch for watching.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this,” Stone said as the two choppers continued to exchange bursts of fire, nearly at wave height, lit by the lights of Brighton Beach and Coney Island.

Then, as they watched, a small puff of black smoke erupted from the engine area of the Majorov machine, and it began to yaw and look less controllable. Then the chopper began a long, slow turn in toward the beach, and people began to spill from the helicopter into the sea, perhaps ten feet below. A moment later the machine vanished in a huge ball of fire as the fuel tank exploded.

Two police helicopters now converged from the edges of the conflict and began to pick up survivors. The Black Hawk climbed a few feet and turned back toward the garage. It hovered overhead and switched on some floodlights, illuminating the top deck of the garage, then it sank slowly until it touched down and its engines were brought to idle.

Rick LaRose hopped out of the machine and strode toward them, smiling broadly. “Everybody here okay?” he yelled.

“We’ve got three dead,” Stone said, pointing toward Majorov’s men, whose bodies had been further ripped by the fire from the helicopter. “All opposition.”

“Was Majorov aboard the helicopter?” Rick asked.

“We saw him get aboard,” Stone replied. “Has his body been recovered?”

“I haven’t heard yet,” Rick said, “but they were low enough when they abandoned ship that there should be survivors. Some of them were making for the beach when I last saw them.”

“If they make it ashore,” Dino said, “they’ll disappear into the Russian population out here, and they’ll be tough to find.”

“Dino,” Stone said, “if in the unhappy event that Majorov made it ashore, he will be heading for an airport as we speak, probably to his own airplane.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Holly said, reaching for her phone. “I can order a federal presence to every airport in the greater New York area. Inside an hour or two, nobody will exit the country that we don’t want to leave.” She pressed a button and began talking.

“Can I offer anyone a lift to the East Side Heliport?” Rick asked.

“You bet your ass you can,” Stone said.

The Lincoln came up the ramp with Paddy at the wheel.

“I’ll take my car,” Dino said.

Stone herded Holly, Helga, and Stanley toward the waiting Black Hawk.

They were nearly there when Helga stopped. “Just a moment,” she said. “I forgot my luggage.”

She returned to the remains of the Mercedes, rummaged in what had been the trunk, and came up with a small, tattered alligator suitcase, then she returned to the Black Hawk and was helped aboard.

Everybody buckled in, the rotors began to spin noisily, and the big helicopter lifted off and turned toward the sea. As it turned again to follow the shoreline back to Manhattan, they could see the scattered fires and oily smoke that had been the Majorov chopper.

“My people have recovered the black Mercedes van,” Holly said over the intercom. “I’ve asked them to meet us at the East Side Heliport.”

“I hope this will be my last ride in that thing,” Stone said.

• • •

It was after three in the morning before Stone and Helga made it to bed, too tired to molest each other.