Hall considered the situation. It was only a matter of time before the squad noticed the SEALs’ tracks in the snow and came looking for them. A wild thought occurred to him. He shook his head, but the thought was still there. There was a way out. A way that might just kill two birds with one stone. If it didn’t kill a couple of SEALs in the process.

He twisted around and flashed a hand sign at Martinelli. He moved out, leaving the protection of his hiding place. Hall crawled through the snow-covered underbrush, his white camouflaged form barely discernible in the darkness against the half-buried undergrowth. He seemed to disappear, enveloped by the snow, then reappeared minutes later, in the ice cloud right behind the idling Russian helicopter.

Martinelli watched in disbelief as the big black SEAL rose and swiftly covered the last few meters to the helicopter’s open hatch. He was running low and quick. The open ground was dangerous, and even in the darkness, there was no hope for cover. If the Russian gunner in the doorway caught sight of him, it would be over before Hall could react. Even an all-conference linebacker from Alabama couldn’t outmuscle a barrage of bullets.

Just as he reached the rear of the chopper, the snow around Hall erupted in dirty little volcanoes. He dove forward, skidding beneath the helicopter. He hunkered down, trying to see where the fire was coming from. It wasn’t the gunner in the Hip’s door. Hall could see him. The man was staring wide-eyed up the slope. He was probably wondering if it was his friends shooting at him or if there was somebody else up there.

Hall could see the squad fanning out on the slope and moving back toward the helicopter. They were firing short bursts as they came, aiming at him but being careful not to nip their transportation back home.

This was hopeless, Hall decided. He was going to get chewed up just as that rabbit did. He wondered where Tony was.

The angry burp of an M-4 and the explosion of an M-79 grenade answered Hall’s question. Martinelli was firing at the squad. Three of the naval infantry troopers flew back awkwardly, sprawling on the ground. Their blood spread in dark stains across the virgin snow.

The SEALs were still badly outnumbered and seriously outgunned. This would have to be quick. There was no time for hesitation. Hall needed to end this thing and get them out of here.

The squad dropped and scurried for cover. Their fire shifted from Hall to Martinelli’s hiding place among the birch and larch. The Hip gunner opened up as well, his rounds chewing bits and pieces from the trees. Hall knew Martinelli wasn’t there anymore, that he had vacated the spot as soon as he finished offering the cover fire. The distraction gave Hall the few seconds he needed.