NATASHA IVANOFF

THIRTY THOUSAND EMAILS

PART FOUR

　

As the four Range Rovers left the airport runway, some reporters jumped in their

cars and tried to follow. But while the gates of the runway area allowed the four FBI

vehicles to slip through, they snapped shut entrapping the gaggle of reporters trying to

give chase. Destination Wichita, McConnell AFB, a hundred and five miles southwest

of Kansas City, seemed safe enough for Natasha and Vince to regain their bearings.

A network of Russian spies who had broken the FBI intelligence system nation

wide, felt otherwise. Twenty miles west of Kansas City, tucked away in a non-descript

large barn, ancient in appearance, a stolen Bell Super Cobra twin engine attack

helicopter had left at the same time as Natasha and Vince’s caravan cleared the airport.

Forty miles out of Kansas City, the helicopter took up position above the highway

to Wichita, approximately 400 feet above ground, waiting for its prey. Armed with 5 inch

Zuni rockets and a 20 mm M197 Gatling gun, the Cobra took full use of the moonlight

and dropped down to firing range. .

Inside the third Range Rover,

“What kind of weapons does this British beast carry?” Vince said

The driver answered,

“Mounted to an arm that extends from the rear of the Range Rover, we carry a

M240 machine gun. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes, Yes.” Vince and Natasha both answered.

“My name’s Robert,” the driver said, are you worried about an attack?”

“I’m always cautious,” Vince said.

“I am trained as a killing machine,” Natasha answered. “How quickly can the

M240 be operative?”

The driver turned to Vince, “About 45 seconds, are you both former Seals?”

“Might as well think that.” Vince hugged Natasha around her shoulder.:

The highway opened up to wheat fields on both sides, the light from a full moon,

gleamed off the black Range Rovers. Vince leaned up and talked to the driver,

“We’re the third vehicle in this caravan, we need to be last, signal behind you and

have him move up.”

Vince somehow either heard the helicopter above them or sensed danger. Either

way, the caravan changed places..

“Now drop back another hundred feet.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“Never mind, do it.”

With the last sentence, the noise of the attacking Cobra became louder. The third

vehicle in the caravan disappeared in an instant h a fury of fire from a direct hit of two

Zuni rockets. Vince climbed over the back seat,

“Move it, I’m going to take the wheel. He swerved off the highway nd looked for

cover in the wheat field. The other two vehicles went in opposite directions. Vince

realized a second Range Rover was dead meat and prayed it wasn‘t his. They screeched

to a halt and deployed the .M240.

“Do you want the first round, Natasha?”

. “No, I’ll feed, you fire.”

The sound of the Super Cobra increased and Vice with a range of 880 yards had

only a moment to save a second Range Rover. He saw the copter hover for a few

seconds to fire two more Zuni’s. At that moment Vince fired about three hundred rounds

at the Cobra. They had made a fatal decision to hover and fire. The copter exploded in a

mass ball of fire. The Zuni’s plowed through an acre of wheat and exploded about two

hundred feet from one of the Rovers.

Out of his peripheral vision, Vince saw the pilot miraculously ,leap from the

copter and hit the ground a safe distance away. He was still on fire and managed to roll

through the wheat and put the fire out. Natasha sprinted across the field to see what

information she might squeeze out of the dying pilot.

Natasha drew closer, the pilot managed to pull his pistol out. Instead of firing at

Natasha, he placed his own gun to his ear and pulled the trigger. So much for

information. He was burned so badly, she hesitated to be sure he was dead and then

walked back to Vince. The other Rovers circled Vince and Natasha as the FBI chief,

Brian McCloud stepped out,

“The two of you saved all of us from certain death. Will you escort to Mc

Connell, we’ll follow.”





..