“It won’t be enough,” said Rich. “The maps might say Mincy Conservation Area, but I guarantee you the camp is on a large tract of private property. Probably a few thousand acres. Shooting up your own land isn’t a crime. The explosion might draw some attention; my guess is that the crash will be covered with netting by the morning. We’re left with some compelling video that we could have created in a studio.”

Marnie put the helicopter into a gentle right turn. “What’s the plan?”

“I’d like to burn their buildings down. Leave something the authorities can see in the morning,” said Rich. “At the very least, I’d like to put Camp Stalin out of business.”

She laughed. “May as well add arsonist to my rapidly expanding résumé. You guys don’t happen to be hiring, do you?”

“No. But I’m pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say that we’d make room for a combat-decorated Marine helicopter pilot. Same offer applies to any former FBI SSG investigative specialists.”

“Is that your first job offer?” asked Devin.

“Nice. As a matter of fact, it is,” she said. “Have to sleep on it, though. Hey. We’re about fifteen seconds out from the camp center. I can slow us down if you’re not ready.”

She heard the M249 charging bolt slide home.

“They’re ready,” said Devin.

Marnie took a longer look behind her, disturbed by what she saw. Alex had scooted to the edge of the bench seat next to the portside door, machine gun in his lap and three additional drum magazines on the seat next to him. Rich sat on the opposite side of the bench seat, having opened the starboard-side door at some point in all the excitement. He held a cylindrical grenade in both hands. Devin sat directly behind her. For all she knew, he had a stick of dynamite and a lighter in his hand. Rich had a way of coaxing bad behavior out of everyone.

“Rich, is that a white phosphorus grenade?” said Marnie.

“Maybe,” he said. “And maybe I have three more in my drop pouch.”

Her pilot instincts flashed red. Pyrotechnic devices ranked right up there with explosives on a pilot’s “fuck no” list.

“Rich. If you drop that in the helicopter, I will bank this thing ninety degrees and empty you and your grenades right over the side,” said Marnie.

“I would expect nothing less,” said Rich. “Pick four buildings. Your choice. We’ll be out of here in thirty seconds.”

She slowed down for the approach, the buildings in the camp’s center suddenly appearing in the square-shaped opening. Five one-story structures, all flat roofed. The rooftop adjacent to the northeast branch of cabins, where the team had been ambushed, held three armed figures. She turned the helicopter so its port side faced the rooftop and let the helicopter drift slowly in the building’s direction.