The Kingdom

For what seemed like several minutes, but was likely less than one, Sam listened for the sound of the Z-9 approaching. When it came, he waited until the chopping sound was deafening. He risked a peek around the corner of the gondola.

The Z-9 had stopped in a hover, just off the edge of the plateau and a few feet above it. The helicopter slid sideways like a dragonfly waiting for its prey to appear. In the side door, Sam could see the door gu

Suddenly the Z-9 veered away and dropped out of sight below the plateau. Seconds later Sam saw it streaking back across the lake. Sam didn’t think but reacted, scrambling from behind cover and ru

“Made it,” Sam called to Remi, then began checking the machine gun. The wooden stock was partially splintered, and the fore stock charred by flames, but the working parts seemed in order and the barrel unscathed. He ejected the magazine; thirteen rounds left.

Remi called, “What are they doing?”

“Either leaving or waiting for enough of the aviation fuel to burn off so they can come in for a fast rope.”

The Z-9 reached the edge of the lake and swooped upward along the slope to the ridgeline. Sam watched, fingers mentally crossed that the helicopter would keep going.

It didn’t.

As had become its pattern, the Z-9 banked over the ridge, reversed course, and came streaking back across the lake.

“They’re coming back,” Sam a

“Good luck.”

Sam mentally rehearsed his plan. Much would depend on whether the Z-9 presented him an open door as the soldiers prepared for their fast-rope descent. Firing into the aircraft’s fuselage was pointless; Hosni’s attack had proven that. What Sam needed was a chink in the armor.

The rush of the Z-9’s engine drew nearer, and the rhythmic chop of the rotors rattled Sam’s eardrums. He waited, head down and watching the ice a few feet from the gondola.

Wait . . . wait . . .

Snow began whipping across the ice.

Sam peeked around the corner.

The Z-9 was hovering thirty feet above the plateau.

“Come on, turn,” Sam muttered. “Just a little bit.”

The Z-9 pivoted slightly, bringing the door gu

Sam took a breath, set his teeth. He clipped the fire selector to Single Shot, then ducked out. In a crouch, he brought the machine gun to his shoulder and took aim at the Z-9’s open doorway, then shifted left, placing the sight over the door gu

Sam focused on the seat back. He took a breath, let it out, then pulled the trigger. A trio of bullets peppered the Z-9’s interior. Sam pulled the trigger again, then once more. The machine gun let off an empty click; the magazine was empty.

The Z-9 pitched sideways, nose spiraling down and toward the plateau. Through the open cabin door the lifeless body of the door gu

Sam tore his eyes free, ducked behind the gondola, and sprinted to where Remi was lying. “More shrapnel coming!” he shouted, and dove on top of her.

Two of the Z-9’s rotors struck the ice first, shearing off and hurling away a quarter second before the fuselage struck. Pressed flat in the snow, Sam and Remi waited for a fiery explosion but none came. They heard a high-pitched grinding sound followed by a trio of grenade-like whumps.

On impulse, Sam stood up and glanced over the gondola.

It took a full two seconds for his brain to register what he was seeing: the Z-9, skidding, hurtling toward him, the mangled fuselage, half sliding, half lurching, as the remaining rotor blades splintered on the ice and propelled it forward. It looked like a crippled bug in the throes of death.

Sam felt a hand clamp onto his. With surprising strength, Remi jerked him back to the ground. “Sam, what do you think you’re-”

The Z-9 slammed into the gondola, shoving it backward into Sam and Remi, who began backpedaling, feet scrabbling over the ice.

The gondola stopped moving. The grinding thud-thud-thud of the helicopter’s skid continued for a few seconds, then suddenly died save the stuttering coughs of the engine turbine.

That too stopped, and Sam and Remi found themselves in perfect silence. They got to their feet and peeked over the gondola.

“Well, that’s not something you see every day,” Sam said drily.

32

NORTHERN NEPAL

It took ten seconds for Sam and Remi to piece together the scene that lay before them.

After bouncing off the gondola, the crippled Z-9 had reversed course and skidded toward the ru

The helicopter’s cabin sat suspended over the edge, water cascading over the fuselage and through the open cabin door.

“We should see if anyone’s left alive,” Remi prompted.

Wary of the still-hot engine, they picked their way over to the Z-9. Sam knelt down beside the ru

“Anyone in there?” he shouted. “Hello!”

Sam and Remi listened but heard nothing.

Twice more Sam called out, but still there was no response.

Sam stood up and rejoined Remi. He said, “Lone survivors.”

“That sounds both wonderful and terrifying. What now?”

“First, we can’t climb out of here. And even if we managed to without getting injured, we’re thirty miles from the nearest village. Between the subzero temperatures at night and no shelter, we’d have little chance. For that matter, we need to start thinking about surviving tonight.”

“Cheery,” Remi said. “Go on.”

“We have no idea how long before Karna declares us overdue and a search party is mounted. And even more important, we have to assume the Z-9 was in contact with its base after Hosni opened fire. When they don’t make contact again and don’t return, the base will send another helicopter, probably two.”

“Any guesses on how soon?”

“Worst case, a matter of hours.”

“Best case?”

“Tomorrow morning. If it’s the former, we may have an advantage: nightfall’s coming. It’ll make it easier for us to hide. I need to get inside that thing.”

“What, the Z-9?” Remi said. “Sam, that’s-”

“A really bad idea, I know, but it’s got supplies we need, and, if we’re very lucky, the radio may still work.”

Remi considered this for a few moments, then nodded. “Okay. But first let’s see what we can scrounge from the Bell’s wreckage.”

This took but a few minutes. There was little of value left, mostly charred bits and pieces from their packs, including a half-shredded section of climbing rope, a smattering of items from a first-aid kit, and a few tools from the Bell’s tool kit. Sam and Remi picked up anything that could be of use, whether recognizable or not.