Page 392 of Broken Oath

Its landing gear struck the ground.

The aircraft bounced.

The tail swung sideways.

The pilot fought for control as the helicopter skidded across the tarmac.

It stopped fifty yards from the transport.

Falcon jumped out.

Then Cobra.

Two operators pulled Reeves from the cabin.

Alan Madow came next with his hands restrained.

The pilot stumbled out last.

“Move!” Falcon shouted.

They sprinted toward us.

Fathom looked at his screen.

“Missile launch!”

The words froze my blood.

“Target?” Rook demanded.

“The airfield.”

The fighter wasn’t aiming for the helicopters.

It was aiming at all of us.

Rook ran down the ramp.

I grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Buying time.”

“With what?”

He looked toward the damaged helicopters.

“Fuel.”

Cobra heard him.

His grin appeared.

“I knew you were my favorite.”

The two men ran toward the helicopters.