After taking two RPG hits, Monica was fuming. Her first grenade had missed—there would be no second mistake. She locked onto her target and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The grenade detonated directly at the front of the enemy pickup. The vehicle flipped over, wheels skyward, still spinning as it crashed. Sand and dust flew everywhere.
From the front passenger seat, Heartbeat let out an excited shout as the pickup roared down the dirt path, leaving the explosion behind.
But just then, Jenny's voice crackled through the comms—Owen felt a familiar chill of dread.
"Unicorn, you've got more company…"
"What?"
"Watch your left—left side!"
Owen slammed his palm against the truck roof, yelling to Ghost, "Left side! Watch the left!"
Even as he spoke, the woods on the left thinned, revealing a narrow dirt path with several enemy vehicles barreling down it. It was the same group that had been pursuing them from the compound.
Owen and Monica immediately opened fire, as did the enemies. Bullets zipped through the air, making sharp whooshing sounds.
"Tat-tat-tat~~~"
Owen unscrewed his suppressor and let loose a wild burst at one of the cars. The windshield shattered into fragments. The thin metal door offered no protection, and soon the window was painted red with blood.
Their own truck wasn't spared either—bullet impacts rang out like a tin drum. One stray round struck Monica in the chest, knocking her back with a pained grunt. Owen ceased fire and checked her condition—fortunately, the bullet was stopped by her body armor.
Gunfire kept flying between the two convoys. Steel pinged, glass shattered, and any stray round could end a life—none of them wore helmets, and one random bullet was all it would take.
BOOM!
An RPG fired at them exploded in a nearby tree, showering the area in fire and debris.
"Hold on—we're about to hit!" Ghost shouted.
The two roads merged. Owen's pickup and the enemy's lead car approached at the same speed. Just before impact, Ghost slammed the brakes, letting the enemy get half a car length ahead—then smashed into them sideways.
CRASH!
The enemy vehicle was sheared in half, sent tumbling into the trees. The convoys merged, and Owen's truck became the new lead.
Owen, Monica, and Heartbeat unleashed fire on the next vehicle. Bullets spider-webbed the windshield, and red mist began to coat the inside. The driver was hit and slumped. The car drifted, then was rammed from behind by another vehicle trying to overtake.
"Target Eye in position," Swagg's voice came through the comms.
Just ahead, Ghost spotted Swagg at the roadside—sweaty, panting, and holding an M72 rocket launcher aimed squarely at the enemy line.
In the rear cars, some of Mikhail's men were still leaning out of windows to return fire. They had no fear—Mikhail had saved their poor mountain village, given them jobs, brought them money. Even in death, the compensation he promised their families would be enough to live well.
Cao was one of them. He didn't care about the bullets whistling by. He emptied his magazine in long bursts, never wavering despite his poor posture and technique.
But then he got an idea. He ducked back into the car, reappearing with an RPG launcher in hand.
He never got to fire it.
A streak of white smoke arced out from the trees—Swagg's rocket.
"%…￥#%!!"
Cao swore, realizing what it was. A second later, his car exploded in a fireball, catapulted into the air.
Up ahead, Swagg tossed the spent M72 to the ground. Ghost swerved the truck, kicked up a wall of dust, and screeched to a stop at the roadside. Swagg grabbed the truck bed and hauled himself up. Before he even stabilized, Owen was pounding on the roof.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Ghost hit the gas. The truck tore back onto the road.
"Target Eye secured. En route to extraction point," Owen radioed in.
"Copy that," Jenny replied.
Their escape wasn't over. The RPG-blasted wreck only delayed the pursuers briefly. The remaining vehicles pushed past the debris, and soon bullets started flying again.
From a distance, gunfire was wildly inaccurate—but still, a lucky shot could end someone.
Moments later, the enemy changed tactics.
No more bullets—just rockets.
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!
Six or seven RPGs fired at once, white smoke trails streaking toward them. Explosions erupted all around. One detonated just behind the truck, nearly lifting it off the road. The three in the bed nearly flew out.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…"
Death hissed past in rapid succession.
The first wave missed—barely. The second wave came fast. Multiple smoke trails arced toward them. RPGs are only accurate within 20 meters—beyond that, it's all luck.
And this time, luck was not on their side.
None of the rockets hit directly, but one exploded beside the truck. The blast wave lifted the vehicle off the road. It flipped, skidding sideways in the dirt.
"Cough—cough—cough…"
Owen's world spun. He spat out dirt and scrambled up. The explosion had flung everyone from the bed. His whole body ached, but he couldn't stop.
He half-ran, half-crawled to where Monica had landed.
"You okay?!"
"Cough… I'm fine…"
Relieved, Owen turned to find Swagg—who was already sitting up. Good. He waved them over and rushed to the cab to check on Ghost and Heartbeat.
Fortunately, they were crawling out through the shattered front windshield—bruised and dirty, but alive.
"Get ready for contact!"
No time for relief. Enemies were closing in. A few pickup trucks and SUVs stopped not far behind them. Doors opened. Soldiers poured out.
"Tat-tat! Tat-tat-tat-tat!"
Owen's team took position behind their overturned truck, firing at the attackers. Bullets sliced through the air, ricocheting off steel. The enemy used their vehicles as cover—it wouldn't be easy to score kills. But they wouldn't get through easily either.
"Calling Nest! We're pinned down on the road! Requesting immediate support!" Owen shouted between shots.
"Copy, Unicorn. Thunderbird is en route. ETA: three minutes."
Back at CTU, Jenny and Jack Bauer watched the scene unfold on the Hawkeye AWACS feed. They had already called in the helicopters before Owen's message—but neither of them knew if the team could hold out long enough.
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