Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
They had originally planned for the helicopter to pick them up from the roof above the bridge since that was the highest spot on the ship and easiest to reach. Given the new circumstances, that wasn't an option anymore. After finally finding the client in a heavily guarded storage room deep down in the hull of the vessel, Chance's next, less exciting discovery was that the young man was badly injured. The kidnappers had apparently beaten him up, kicked in his ribs and broken his jaw. Bad business practices, very bad business practices, but they had already heard something in that direction from the fishermen at the harbor. The client was unable to walk on his own and needed Chance to support him. The former assassin would have loaded him on his back and carried him completely, but the pressure could have caused the young man's lungs to collapse, he couldn't risk that.
"Maureen!", Chance shouted by radio, "I need you to land on the deck! I'll fire the flare pistol so you'll know where we are!"
Winston and Guerrero picked up the gun's signal on one of their monitors and Guerrero immediately connected it with a layout of the ship. "That's in one of the narrow alleys between two rows of containers. They're piled up over 200 ft. high. That's a damn steep valley to dive into with a helicopter…" Winston was worried.
"The rain is getting heavier and the wind is still picking up", Guerrero stated, checking the weather forecast. "The wave height is still okay, the vessel isn't swaying too much yet. But they need to hurry up."
"If one of the rotor blades touches a container…" Winston didn't want to finish the sentence. Three lives depended on that helicopter staying intact.
"I can do it", Maureen stated firmly. Seconds later the connection broke off.
"The approaching thunderstorm keeps interrupting the signal", Guerrero explained. Face unreadable, he pushed his chair backwards and got up.
"Where are you going?", Winston demanded to know.
"Making some private calls", he replied curtly and left the room.
Carefully Maureen lowered the helicopter into the narrow space between two towering rows of containers. The wind was coming on in heavy gusts now and the pouring rain significantly reduced her visual range. "Piece of cake!", she cursed. As she slowly approached the ground, she noticed sounds of rapid gunfire not too far in the distance. Thank God the MI-8MTV-5 had originally been designed by the Russians for combat missions in Chechnya. A crackle in her earphones indicated that radio communication was working again. She quickly summed up the situation for Winston and Guerrero. "The helicopter is bulletproof. As long as they don't start throwing hand grenades everything will be fine once Chance and the client have made it in here…"
"Don't say that kind of thing!", Winston reprimanded her.
"Why…?" At that very moment a loud explosion shook the aircraft. Maureen turned around. At the end of the alley a huge fireball erupted high into the air. "Ah, I see…".
"Everything okay?"
"Chance just emerged from the flash of an explosion, dragging the client with him…" The young man was barely conscious. Maureen slid the cabin door open and let the aircraft hover a few feet above ground to make the quickest escape possible.
"Oh, don't worry, he does that all the time", Winston sighed.
"Sorry for the delay!" With buckling knees Chance loaded the client into the helicopter, no small feat, considering that the young man was not exactly a string bean. Every muscle in Maureen's body waited for his signal to take off, but almost a minute went by and the client's lower body half was still dangling outside.
"What are you waiting for? Get the hell out of there!", Guerrero, back at the radio, barked.
"Chance is still outside, he…." Another explosion shook the helicopter, only much, much closer this time. The terrible screeching of bursting metal filled the air and Maureen thought the tail boom had been hit till she realized with relief that it was the wall right next to them that was displaying a giant gaping hole now. Then she saw that Chance was half-buried under debris spilling out of one of the damaged containers.
"I'm caught", he shouted. "You've got to get out of here without me!"
"There's no way you're going to leave Chance behind!", Guerrero barked into her ear.
"Go! Now! I can take care of myself!"
"Don't you dare leave!" Guerrero's voice was frighteningly sharp.
"You've got to save the client!" Chance's voice was equally sharp, equally commanding. Through the smoke of the first explosion armed men were approaching. "LEAVE!", Chance yelled at her. "You don't get him out of here fast, he'll die!" The client was moaning pitifully. It was a gut decision and one of the hardest she had ever made. Maureen pitched the aircraft's nose down a little and raised the collective control, causing it to ascend quickly, followed by a barrage of bullets. Chance's face disappeared in thick smoke and darkness.
Back at their HQ Guerrero threw down his earphones in agony and anger.
"It's not her fault", Winston muttered.
"My ass it isn't", Guerrero hissed, face like a snake's.