I felt myself start to relax. A long, cold flight back to Latvia, an even longer flight back to the US and then things could start getting back to normal. Erin would go back to Vegas, I’d go on a bender of tequila and filthy sex for a week or so and—

“Someone’s awake!” yelled Cal, his eye pressed to the scope of his rifle.

We all looked down at the prison through the open door, but all we could make out were a couple of black ants moving outside the entrance. Then an alarm started to blare, echoing off the snowy hillsides below.

“Hurry,” I told Gina.

The chopper rose slowly. “One of the guard’s just picked up a guided missile launcher,” reported Cal.

Now we were all yelling at Gina. “Go! Go, go, go!” But the chopper lumbered forward with horrible slowness.

“Can you hit him from here?” JD asked Cal.

“Yeah,” mumbled Cal. “But I can’t be sure I’d only wound him.”

“Don’t risk it,” JD said immediately. “If we kill someone, this whole thing goes south.”

“Missile in the air!” yelled Cal.

We all reacted instinctively, grabbing hold of something. But both JD and I did something else: our heads snapped round to look at Erin. I quickly looked away before JD saw.

“Evade!” yelled JD.

“This thing's not exactly nimble,” muttered Gina.

We could see the missile rising towards us, now, a serpent made of white smoke, stretching up from the ground to strike us. The chopper rolled on one side but it wasn’t enough. There was an ear-splitting bang and a jolt as if a freight train had hit us. I could see flames from just outside the door and thick black smoke billowed into the cabin, choking us. “We lost an engine,” yelled Gina. We started to drop sickeningly. An alarm blared in the cockpit and an automated Russian voice repeated the same phrase over and over. “Yeah, yeah,” Gina snapped, “I know we’re crashing!”

Then it got worse. The burning engine broke free and fell from the chopper, ripping fuel lines as it went. Burning jet fuel sprayed into the cabin, setting fire to the wall right above where Erin was sitting.

She screamed and tugged at her harness but the buckle was jammed. Burning drops of fuel were falling like rain onto her shoulders and chest, and she frantically swatted at them. Meanwhile, the fire was spreading downwards: it was almost at her hair. She was going to be burned alive and it was my fault, I got her into this.

JD started to unbuckle his harness to help her, but I was closer. I got mine open and took a step towards Erin but, at that moment, the chopper started to spin. I stumbled forward, fighting for balance. Through the open door, I could see the ground rushing past, worryingly close.