No Good Deed

by Allison Brennan

  They stopped several more times. Sean’s nighttime hearing sharpened—he heard voices in the distance, two or three men talking. A distant sound of a jeep. Sound carried faintly in the still night. He began to sense the same movements that Blitz did, as if his dormant instincts had kicked into high gear.

  It took them seventeen minutes to reach a ditch next to a road not much better than the old dirt road Sean had used as a runway earlier. This road wound across the mountain, from the base to the top, but parts of it were extremely steep and narrow with areas barely the width of a vehicle. They didn’t use the road coming down to avoid being seen, but in a pinch they could use it going back up. They were nearly two miles from the plane, shorter as the crow flew.

  Blitz motioned for them to drop. There was movement in the canyon in front of them, then the headlights of a vehicle swooped right over where they’d been standing. Soon Sean couldn’t hear anything but the whine of a jeep that hadn’t been well maintained. The sick fumes of exhaust as it passed them made Sean’s eyes water. The jeep stopped twenty yards away and three men got out. They left the lights on but turned the jeep off.

  The three were talking and smoking. Sean didn’t understand everything they said—they spoke in rapid Spanish. But Blitz listened intently. A radio buzzed and one of the men responded with an affirmative, then all three started down the other side of the embankment and into a dense grouping of trees.

  Blitz spoke so low Sean almost couldn’t hear him.

  “They’ve narrowed the search to this ravine. They’re close, we have to go now.”

  He turned to Sean. “Stay here.”

  Sean opened his mouth to argue. Blitz said, “You can hot-wire that jeep, can’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be alert. No guns unless absolutely necessary. Radio silence. We need fifteen minutes, max. I’ll signal you on the radio when we’re one minute out. That’s how long you have to hot-wire our transport. Don’t approach the jeep until my signal.”

  Sean nodded his agreement. Sean understood the reasoning—Sean was the expert on cars and planes. But he didn’t have to like it.

  “Rogan, I need to know that you can protect yourself if necessary.”

  Sean knew exactly what he meant. He dipped his head once.

  “If we’re not back in twenty minutes, leave the jeep, get back to the plane, and go.”

  “I’m not leaving without Kane,” Sean whispered.

  “Do as you’re told,” Ranger said. “We’ll get Kane out.”

  Thirty seconds later Blitz and Ranger were gone, thirty degrees south of where the three men had headed.

  Sean waited.

  He didn’t wait well.

  But he waited.

  Five minutes later a burst of gunfire came from the direction Blitz and Ranger had gone. Sean had his gun in hand and scurried out of the ditch toward the jeep, staying low to the ground. There was no signal to hot-wire the jeep, and if he turned it on too soon it might alert a patrol. That’s when he noticed that one of the three men who’d gotten out of the jeep was standing by a tree on the other side of the embankment, smoking. An AK-47 was strapped over his shoulder. Sean couldn’t see if he also had a sidearm. He was frozen in place by the gunfire, which stopped as quickly as it started. The trail of cigarette smoke moved slowly in Sean’s direction. There were shouts in the distance, but Sean couldn’t hear what they were saying. He couldn’t even tell if they were speaking Spanish or English.

  Sean remained flat on the road. If he stood up, the movement might startle the guard. He quietly holstered his gun and unsheathed his knife, remembering Blitz’s admonition. Sean didn’t know what was happening in the ravine. He didn’t want to think about being the last man standing. He didn’t want to think about fucking this up and risking all their lives.

  His heart pounded so hard that all he heard was blood rushing through his veins. He willed himself to calm down. Focused on the guard across the road. Focused on what he had to do as soon as Blitz gave him the signal.

  He looked at his watch. Only eight minutes had passed. Fifteen minutes, Blitz had said. Did he know exactly where Kane was? He’d done recon, and they verified with Sean’s GPS, but what if Kane had moved in the last hour? What if he’d lost his watch? What if he was dead?

  Had Blitz told Sean everything he knew?

  Sean pushed his doubts aside and focused on the guard. By concentrating on the immediate threat he slowed his heart rate enough that he didn’t feel the pressure of his own fear.

  The guard’s radio transmitted static, then a voice.

  The guard answered. Sean made out a few words.

  Gone.

  The marine.

  Camp.

  At least that’s what he thought, his Spanish was very rough.

  Then he heard an order, didn’t know what it meant until the guard tossed his cigarette after crushing it against a tree and started toward the jeep.

  Sean’s radio beeped twice in his pocket.

  The guard pulled keys from his pocket and was about to hop into the jeep.

  Sean crawled closer, staying low. But his movement caught the attention of the guard. He shined a light into the ravine. “Jose?”

  Sean jumped to his feet as soon as he reached the jeep.

  The guard jumped, whirled around and fumbled with the gun that was strapped to his back.

  If you hesitate, you’re dead.

  Kane had beaten that message into Sean’s head during training. Sean didn’t hesitate. He used his momentum to grab the bar of the jeep and swing his legs around to kick the guard in the chest. The guard spun around and fell to his hands and knees.

  Don’t hesitate.

  Sean let go of the bar as the guard shouted once for José. Sean tackled the guard, pushing him fully to the ground, facedown. The guard swung his hand around, holding a switchblade. He stabbed at Sean, slicing his arm. Sean reached forward and slit the guard’s throat. Warm blood shot out, soaking the ground, the coppery stench burning Sean’s nose. He was breathing hard, feeling disconnected from his body. His arm burned from where the guard had cut him. Sean jumped up and heard more gunfire, this time much closer.

  He was about to hot-wire the jeep but saw the keys in the dirt. He picked them up and stuck the key in the ignition. It turned on the first try.

  Sean dropped his knife between the seats and pulled his gun, expecting trouble to burst onto the road.

  A voice came through his radio. It was Blitz.

  “Now, kid.”

  Ten seconds later Blitz came through the trees. He didn’t have his mask on, and his eyes were wild but determined. Right behind him was Ranger half carrying, half dragging Kane. Sean put the jeep in gear and started rolling forward as Blitz helped Ranger put Kane in the back. Ranger jumped in next to Kane and Blitz ran around to the passenger side. Before he was even in, he ordered Sean, “Go, go, go!”

  Sean drove. He didn’t spare a glance at Kane. He thought his brother was alive, but he couldn’t tell. The road ahead was treacherous and he could easily flip the jeep, killing them all. Or drive off one of the sheer drops. Or worse, not kill them—and then the cartel would catch up to them and torture them before putting a bullet in their brain.

  Stop. Focus.

  Driving always calmed Sean, even driving through difficult terrain. He went faster than he should, getting a feel for the jeep and what it could do, how it could take the turns. The dirt road was deeply rutted and strewn with rocks and branches and shrubs growing out of shallow holes.

  A ping on the metal of the back reminded Sean that people were after them.

  “They’re everywhere,” Blitz said, his voice grim.

  “Kane?” Sean asked.

  “Alive.”

  That was it. Blitz was focused on the surroundings. He fired a couple of times and Sean didn’t know if he hit anything or was trying to chase their attackers into the shadows.

  Another ping and Sean felt something hit his face. Shit, that hurt. Blood d
ripped into his eye and he absently wiped it off. He didn’t think he’d been shot; it was a ricochet off metal.

  He dared to speed up.

  “Slow down,” Blitz said.

  “I got it.”

  “There’s a ninety-degree turn ahead, sheer drop to the left. Slow down!”

  Sean eased up and shifted gears. The jeep whined.

  Then he saw the curve.

  “Shit!”

  The road was so narrow the jeep could barely pass. To the left was the drop, to the right a ravine. The road was at an angle, and the jeep was top-heavy.

  Sean speeded up just a bit. He was close to the edge and didn’t dare look down.

  Blitz was swearing under his breath, and Sean could have sworn he heard Ranger recite some Bible verse in the back.

  Sean became one with the jeep. He understood its limitations and its strengths. He leaned away from the curve as the rear tire dipped off the edge. If he slowed, they’d be stuck or worse, spinning and slipping down the mountainside.

  “Downshift!” Blitz said.

  Sean ignored him. If he downshifted, he’d slow for a second and they’d be toast. Instead he pressed on the gas and their momentum propelled them forward and out of danger.

  And then it was over.

  “Fuck,” Blitz said.

  Sean continued to speed up and almost immediately they were at the top of the small mountain. He prayed his plane hadn’t been discovered. There was no way to get to Kane’s plane except by going back the way they came—directly through enemy territory.

  He floored it once they hit the clearing. The moon was rising and he would be able to see better—but that also meant their enemy would be able to see them.

  He stopped the jeep next to the plane. As soon as he turned off the ignition, he heard their pursuers.

  It sounded like a fucking army was after them.

  There were shouts and orders in the distance, and at least one vehicle though it seemed that most of the gang was on foot, but Sean didn’t see anyone. Yet.

  Blitz opened the doors, and he and Ranger slid Kane onto the floor of the plane where Sean had taken out the extra two seats. Sean’s little Cessna 185 had little comfort, but many unseen bells and whistles. Sean climbed in and turned the ignition. He needed to get this baby warmed up fast. He’d long ago upgraded the engine with more horsepower, but planes weren’t like cars. They couldn’t go from zero to sixty in six seconds.

  He slowly started to roll.

  “You gotta be faster, kid,” Ranger said.

  “Close the door,” Sean ordered.

  “I need line of sight,” Blitz said, his gun out and ready to fire on anyone who emerged from the mountain.

  “I need to fucking get us off the ground! Close the damn door!”

  Blitz complied. Sean pushed his plane, knowing what it was capable of, but needing more out of it than he’d ever asked. He couldn’t see directly in front of him because his nose was up, the two front tundra tires much larger than the small tail wheel in the back. He glanced behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of Kane, but Blitz was sitting in the rear-facing seat, blocking Sean’s view.

  Sean glanced out the side window and saw headlights among the trees. Shit. He’d have to pop the plane off the ground and try to build more speed by flying several feet from the surface. It was dangerous, but at this point if he didn’t do something the men coming up the mountain would open fire. He’d reinforced his plane and windows, but weight was always an issue and Sean couldn’t put in all the safety features he wanted. With enough firepower, Juarez’s men could take out the engine and crash the plane.

  “Hold on,” Sean said through clenched teeth.

  He’d only done this once before, but he could hear his first flight instructor Deborah in his ear.

  “Be the plane, Sean. You’re a natural.”

  He wished Deborah were here now. She was the only person he’d admit was a better pilot than he was.

  A bullet hit Sean’s window and it cracked. One more direct hit and it would be gone. If he hadn’t swapped the cheap plexi-glass with sturdier material, he’d be dead.

  Sean didn’t think anymore, he acted on instinct. Another bullet hit the plane, but he blocked out the danger and concentrated on the push and pull of the yoke to pop off the ground. He had to get the wheels up to minimize the drag and gain more speed.

  It worked. Only five or so feet off the ground, but he already felt the engine respond. The thin air wasn’t doing him any favors, but the cooler evening helped. He wouldn’t have been able to do this at high noon. All the lights in the cockpit were good. His controls looked good. He could do this.

  The Cessna straightened and leveled off. Sean’s heart raced as a jeep and two men popped into view, only fifty feet in front of him. He didn’t have time to think; he immediately pulled back on the yoke. If his wheels hit the vehicle, they were toast.

  That he cleared the jeep and didn’t crash was a miracle in itself, but they weren’t clear yet. The two men now behind them sprayed bullets at the plane and Sean felt every hit as if it were his own body. The plane dipped and he compensated. But something was off. The controls felt mushy. The plane dropped again and hit ground, bouncing all of them hard. Kane grunted from the back. Sean almost had enough speed.

  Get the damn plane in the air.

  He pulled up on the yoke and this time, the plane didn’t dip down. Suddenly there was no ground at all. He was off the mountain. He felt another ping of a bullet and the plane suddenly yawed to the left.

  “Shit!”

  “What?” Blitz demanded.

  “Left tire is blown.” That would make landing a load of fun. Sean straightened the plane and gained altitude.

  He looked at his controls and gauges. Only one system was completely down—the one system he’d installed himself. Communications.

  But the plane still felt mushy. He couldn’t see the wings, but he suspected there were some holes in them. He banked slowly south. The plane wasn’t responding well, he wouldn’t be performing any tricks. They needed to circumvent Monterrey because traveling over the Mexican city would alert authorities.

  “How is he?” Sean asked.

  “I can hear you,” Kane said. His voice was weak. Sean heard Ranger tearing open Kane’s clothes.

  “Shit, boss.”

  “Just get me to Padre.”

  “Padre can’t fix this,” Ranger said quietly. “You need a hospital. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “Did you stop the bleeding?” Blitz asked.

  “I’m trying.”

  The plane tilted from the sudden movement as Blitz and Ranger worked on Kane.

  “Don’t move any more than you have to,” Sean said. His jaw was clenched so tight his head ached.

  “How long, Little Rogan?” Blitz asked.

  “Hour.” Though he wasn’t sure the plane was going to make it. “I lost communications. I can’t alert Padre or air traffic control.”

  “Cell communications?”

  “There are places where we might pick up a signal, but I lost my transmitter. My left wheel is flapping rubber and there’re holes in the wing.”

  “Are we going to reach Hidalgo?”

  “Yes.” I hope.

  “He needs blood,” Ranger said.

  “My satchel,” Kane said.

  “That can wait, boss.”

  Silence, then there was movement in the back. Sean winced and compensated. His maneuverability sucked. He had to continue to work the rudders to counter the yaw of the blown tire. He’d be tense until they landed.

  Kane said, “I tracked the bastard who kidnapped Siobhan. He’s a fed. Dover, agent out of Mexico City.”

  Kane shifted and groaned.

  “Boss, I stopped the bleeding, but you still have a bullet in you.”

  “Get it out.”

  “No.”

  “It’s an order.”

  “Fuck that, I open up the wound and you’ll bleed to death.”

/>   “Kane and I have the same blood type,” Sean said. “Can you do a field transfusion?”

  “Too risky,” Ranger said. “And you need to fly this bucket of bolts.”

  “I’m not going to let my brother bleed to death. Where’s he hit?”

  “Thigh and back. Near his kidneys. I stopped the bleeding. As long as we get him to the hospital—then we’ll take your blood. But I’m not going to fucking do surgery in a plane that’s falling apart around us.”

  Blitz came forward and sat in the copilot’s seat. The plane tilted again and Sean swore. “Shit, Blitz. Buckle up.” It had seemed to take forever to get the damn plane to turn. He had to take it slow and wide. But he was finally heading in the right direction.

  “You’re bleeding,” Blitz said to Sean.

  “A guard at the jeep. He was given orders to leave. I stopped him.”

  Blitz looked at Sean’s arm under a penlight. “Knife. Deep. We need to clean it up, kid. You’ll need stitches.”

  “Do it and don’t tell me.”

  He winced as Blitz sprayed antiseptic on his arm. “It ain’t gonna be pretty, but it’ll be better than nothing.”

  Sean withstood the pain of the needle as Blitz put several stitches in his arm. He glued the edges to seal the cut, then taped on a loose bandage.

  Blitz handed two horse-sized pills to Sean. “We don’t know where that knife has been. Take these.”

  Sean did as he was told and guzzled an entire water bottle.

  “Well, that was fun.” Blitz leaned back in the copilot’s seat and closed his eyes.

  Sean wasn’t certain he was being sarcastic.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Nicole woke up to Joseph talking on the phone. She’d fallen asleep on the couch reading stupid, boring emails to and from Logan Dunbar. Sure, there was some information in here that might be beneficial to them later, but nothing that pointed at who stole her money.

  She stretched and her back cracked. She walked over to the coffeepot on the bar and poured herself a cup of hot black coffee. Joseph squeezed her hand and continued his conversation.

  Or rather, continued listening. The expression on his face was rigid. Something bad had happened.