The stench from the garbage accosted Ellie, and she nearly choked on the offensive odor. She tried to swat the flies that were crawling on her--at least she thought they were flies--but she could barely move. Bile rose in her throat, but fear held her immobile and silent as she struggled to keep from sneezing. The first thing she wanted to do when they were safe was take a shower.
Ellie watched as one by one the buildings were searched and the few people left in them were rounded up in the center of the street. A soldier, standing not ten feet from the trash pile, held a rifle on the group, mostly old men, women and children. When the officer was satisfied the buildings were vacant, he motioned for his soldiers to take the people inside an abandoned store. He left one man to guard the truck.
The minute everyone was inside, Slade shoved the trash off him and pulled Ellie free, the whole time keeping his gaze trained on the guard by the truck. The man was smoking a cigarette, lounging against the side.
Crouched behind the pile of garbage, his grip on Ellie’s hand tight, Slade observed the guard. “This may be our only chance,” he whispered into her ear, so softly she barely heard the words.
When the lone soldier finally finished his cigarette and flicked it into the street, he began to circle the truck. Slade let go of her and ran forward, positioning himself so that he could jump the guard when he came into view. When the man rounded the back, Slade hit him with one solid punch to the jaw. The guard collapsed to the pavement.
Motioning for Ellie to join him, Slade climbed into the cab of the truck. She remained kneeling by the trash pile, trying to digest everything that was happening to her. The revolution was very real. Her mind refused to think beyond the moment. Her body refused to move.
“Ellie!”
The harsh whisper propelled her into action. She blinked, rose and raced for the truck. By the time she was sitting in the passenger’s side, Slade was fumbling with some wires below the steering wheel.
“Where did you learn to do that?” she asked, shocked, when the truck started. “Hot-wiring a car—or in this case, truck—isn’t taught in high school.”
“Around.” He threw the truck into gear. It started forward, quickly gaining speed once it cleared the street.
She appraised him from the corner of her eye. Around? Again she wondered if he was more than he said he was. Now that she was sitting, she began to feel the pounding in her head, as if someone were setting off fireworks inside her skull. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, deciding she would have to rethink her love of traveling.
“I know a back way to the airport, if we can get by the soldiers,” Slade said.
Maybe King Kong and Godzilla hadn’t really been after her. She just couldn’t see how she was that important for Mr. Martinez to go to all the trouble he had earlier, especially in light of what she was discovering about her rescuer. “How come you know your way around this city so well?”
“I’ve been here a lot this past year.” With one hand on the steering wheel, he extracted his cell and punched in a number. After ten seconds, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. “No service.”
“The same thing has happened to me when I worked in the mountains of Colorado two jobs ago. Cell reception went in and out all the time. I complained to the company, but it didn’t do any good.”
“I don’t think it’ll do any good here either,” he said with a chuckle, although hard lines slashed across his expression.
At each intersection Slade slowed to a crawl, until he discovered if it was clear. Four blocks away he saw a group of soldiers checking some building they had to pass.
“Get down, Ellie, and stay down until I tell you it’s safe.”
She didn’t question him, but as they traveled past the men, she felt as if her heart were going to leap out of her body. She was sure they could hear her pulse thumping against her temples, the noise proclaiming to the world she was hiding in the truck.
“That was too close for comfort,” he said when they made it without anyone stopping them. “You can get up now.”
She straightened, her grip on the door handle so tight that pain streaked up her arm. “This morning makes you appreciate the good ole U.S.A. Wait until my roommate hears about this. It reminds me of that time last year—”
“Last year!” His head whipped around. “You were in a revolution last year? I thought this was your first revolution.”
“Yes, of course it is. Last year I was racing to the airport to make my flight.”
“Oh, now I see the similarity.” He looked back at the road in time to swerve the truck, barely missing a donkey grazing on the grass growing between the cracks of the pavement.
Now that they were outside the capital, Slade picked up speed, his gaze alert, his body tense. Glancing up at the sun, then at his watch, he frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Her tension honed to a sharp edge, and her grasp on the door handle strengthened even more.
“I don’t know if we’re going to make it.”
“Well, if your plane is gone, we can get on the next one out. The airline I flew down on had several planes out during the day. And boy, besides a shower, I could use something to eat. I hope they have a decent meal on the flight. Once I was on a plane that I think served leather as the meat entree even though they denied it. Do you think an airline would admit to doing—”
“Ellie!”
Her gaze flew to his face and their eyes locked for a brief moment.
“The airport is up ahead. There’s a good chance it will be closed by one of the groups vying for power. Some soldiers shoot and ask questions later. I need you to do as I say.”
He was using his patient voice, and Ellie almost saluted him but with a great effort resisted the urge. “Just because I haven’t been in a revolution before doesn’t mean I can’t follow directions.”
Right before they left the truck on the side of the road to walk the rest of the way to the airport, she fingered the brooch inside her skirt pocket for good luck. She felt much better touching the cool metal and remembering the serene expression that had always seemed to be on her grandmother’s face when she had dealt with a difficult situation. This definitely would count as a difficult situation, Ellie thought, and hoped she managed to have half the serenity her grandmother had.
They made it to the fence at the runway without anyone seeing them. Squatting down in the tall grass, Slade assessed the situation. Quickly examining the planes, he searched for his company jet.
“You know, another thing I hate about airlines,” Ellie said, her nerves stretched so tautly she thought they would snap. “If you aren’t on time, they often give away your seat and they make such a big deal when you demand another one just because you were a few minutes late. Once I was—”
“I don’t think we need to worry about that. The plane is gone.”
“It can’t be!” Panic shook her voice.
“Get up slowly and put your hands on the fence,” a soldier with rifle trained on them ordered.
CHAPTER 3
“Oh, my gosh, there are bars on the window! This is an airport.” Ellie rubbed her arm where the soldier had held her tightly. She was sure she was bruised; she bruised so easily. “I know that airports are taking their security more seriously nowadays, but bars? I feel like a prisoner.”
“You are. Where we’re going there’ll be bars on the door, too.” Slade surveyed the small room the soldier had shoved them into, after taking the duffel bag and their identifications. Frustration evident in the deep lines that carved his face, he tried the sturdy door, pulling on its knob as if that would magically open it.
Twisting her hands together, Ellie did her own inventory of their prison. There was one window with bars and one door, locked. She had heard it click into place as though a judge had pronounced their sentence without even bothering to try them, which in their situation might be the case. Her nerves were jingling, and her heart was beating so fast she was afraid she would faint.
> She needed to concentrate on something else--anything to take her mind off their quickly deteriorating predicament. “What do you think this room is used for? It certainly isn’t decorated well. I had an apartment like this once and boy did I spend time and money on it. I would paint these walls a cool, light blue. And this furniture is junkyard material, if that. Now if—”
“Ellie!”
She stopped her chattering and looked at Slade. Chewing on her lower lip to keep it from quivering, she fingered her brooch, which was supposed to bring her good luck. It hadn’t been doing its job lately. “I talk when I’m nervous, and since I prefer not to dwell on our dire situation, I thought the decor was a safer subject.”
Slade laughed. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” He took her hand and drew her into his arms, holding her close to him.
For a long moment, she listened to the pounding of his heart that was a shade slower than hers. She tried to draw strength from the comfort of his embrace. But all the horror stories she had heard about prisons in foreign countries flooded her mind, and her fear escalated even more, which she hadn’t thought possible. She leaned back and stared into his eyes. “What are we going to do? That soldier didn’t look too happy to find us.” The understatement of the year, she silently added, remembering the brief time she thought the man was going to shoot them and leave them to rot by the fence.
“I don’t know. But whatever it is, we’d better do it fast. I doubt he’ll be gone too much longer. I’m sure he’s informing his commander right now who he has as prisoners.”
“If we could just get that door unlocked.” She tried her best to keep her voice as calm as possible, but it came out in a squeak. She began to imagine what Mr. Martinez would do to her when he found out she was here. If only she didn’t have such a vivid imagination, she might not be quaking so badly.
“Fresh out of keys. Maybe there’s something we can use in the room.” Slade made another quick scan of the area. “I’ve got it.” He scooted a chair under the light and stood on the wooden seat to unscrew the bulb from its socket. Jumping down, he smashed the light on the table.
Ellie watched in stunned silence, wondering if their predicament had finally sent him over the edge. “Don’t tell me. You’re going to attack the guard with the broken light bulb when he comes in. I guess when you’re desperate anything looks possible, but truthfully, Slade, I don’t think that will work.”
He shot her a disgruntled look as he went about picking the lock using the filament from the bulb.
“Where did you learn that?”
“Around.”
“Is that your stock answer?”
He shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I think I saw it on a TV show.”
“And they say you can’t learn anything from television.”
Slade eased the door open an inch and checked the reception room. “All clear. Our guard is gone.”
“Probably gone off to tell his buddies about the great time he had giving me a body search. That was probably his highlight for the year.” Ellie shivered again as she recalled the soldier’s clammy hands as they had run over her body, checking her for heaven knows what in places a person couldn’t hide a weapon.
Swinging the door wider, Slade hurried to the desk, stuffed their passports into the duffel bag, then grabbed it. “Ready?”
Ellie nodded, her throat tightening at the prospect of what might be on the other side of the outer door.
They managed to make it outside without being seen. They hid behind a stack of cargo boxes while Slade inspected the area.
“I wish that soldier hadn’t taken your cell. We could call for help.”
“Who are we going to call?”
“The United States government. We’re taxpayers--well, you are, I’m sure. What I pay doesn’t amount to much, but--”
“Remember I tried making a call. It didn’t surprise me there was no reception. I’d take out communications if I was taking over a country.”
“If they aren’t allowing any planes to take off, then how are we going to get off this island?” Ellie asked, not feeling much hope as she watched more trucks filled with soldiers approach the airport.
“For starters, I’m not going to waltz up to them and ask permission to leave. Something tells me they won’t give it.” His survey stopped. “But I am going to borrow one of their planes. They can pick it up in Puerto Rico.”
“You’re a pilot?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, good,” she said with a sigh. “Because all I know is that airplanes use gas to make them go. They are kinda like cars, aren’t they?”
“Kinda,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, if they need gas, how will you know which one has gas in it?”
He took her hand. “I won’t until I’m in it.”
Her eyes rounded. “Then we could run out of gas up there.” She pointed toward the sky, the prospects suddenly making her body leaden as if it could hug the ground.
“Yep. Afraid so. Once we make a commitment, I doubt they’ll allow us to shop for a different plane with more gas.” Standing, he pulled her toward a plane that was parked away from the others and near the runway, its engines warming.
“But—”
A shout behind them cut off her protest. They were committed now to using the plane, whether it had gas or not. At the twin-engine aircraft Slade shoved Ellie unceremoniously into the cockpit, then dove in behind her. Quickly situating himself behind the wheel, he glanced over the instrument panel.
As he guided the plane out onto the runway, Ellie saw a Jeep behind and to the side of them, racing toward them. Two soldiers raised their rifles and began firing. She instinctively ducked as the sound blasted the air near her. Yes, it is possible to be so scared that your body goes numb, your mind turning to mush. She gripped the seat, wishing this were one experience she could do without.
“Let’s see if this little baby can outrun them. I think we’ll forgo a run up.”
“A run up?” she squeaked out as another bullet shattered a hole in the side window by her and came so close she felt the air stir about her ear. She threw herself on the floor.
“A final check of the plane at the end of the runway.”
Ellie inched up to glance back at the soldiers pursuing them. “I can live with that,” she said as they began to pick up speed.
She squeezed her eyes closed as the plane rushed toward the end of the runway. She still heard shots being fired, but everything faded from her consciousness except the fact they were almost off the ground. She hated planes. The smaller they were the more afraid she was, a piece of information she hadn’t thought important when they were running for their lives. A fact at the moment, however, that was very important when the beat of her heart thumped so loudly against her rib cage that it drowned out all other sounds, and her palms were so sweaty that she couldn’t hold onto the seat anymore.
“You can open your eyes now. We’re off the ground.”
“Are you sure?” All she could think about was what she had read somewhere—that most airplane crashes happened during takeoff.
“Very.”
His laugh caused her to ease one eyelid up halfway and peer out the side window. Sucking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes completely and released a huge sigh. “I guess we’re safe now that we’ve taken off. How much gas do we have?”
“Enough.”
“For what?”
“To get us to Puerto Rico. We’re fine now that we’re away from the airport and the capital. We will have to fly across the island though. That’s the shortest route to safety.”
“I’ll never be so glad to see American soil. I think I’ll kiss the ground when we land. Next time I leave the country, I’ll make sure the place is so tranquil that the most exciting thing to happen will be the sun setting. I love to travel, but this is it.”
“I can see where this might dampen your urge to see the world.”
Ellie made the mistake of looki
ng out the window at the mountainous terrain below them. They were so high up! She diverted her gaze and stared at his profile. “You know, this reminds me of the time I was in London and I visited the estate of Lord Sommerfield. Oh, was that a divine place to spend a weekend.” She twisted her hands together in her lap and concentrated on telling her story. She had to do something to distract her from looking out the window at the ground far below. “He had the cutest little garden with one of those mazes in it. I got lost and they had to come in and rescue me. What an embarrassing, frightful day that was! I tell you, I wouldn’t care to relive that.”
“Excuse me, Ellie,” Slade said, slanting a glance at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m curious as to how this reminds you of an estate in England.”
“Lord Sommerfield had an old plane he loved to go up in and give aerial tours of his estate,” she said as if the connection was obvious.
“Oh, of course, now I see.”
“Well, to make a long story short, no amount of persuading on Hodgey’s part could get me in that plane. I knew how hard it was to get me on the big one that flew me to London.”
“Hodgey?”
“Lord Sommerfield. He was most disappointed that I wouldn’t go flying with him. He didn’t have your form of persuasion.”
“And what’s that?”
“Bullets flying at you. That’s the only thing that would get me into a small plane.”
His chuckle was low, warm. “How do you fly on those big ones, as you say?”
“I don’t sit by the window where I can see out, for one thing. I also take a sleeping pill before takeoff, then I put my eyeshades on and listen to tranquil music. It takes all my willpower to visualize myself anywhere but thousands of feet above the earth. Somehow I usually manage, because I do love to see new places and traveling by air is sometimes the only way I can get there. For the longest time that was a dilemma of mine, until I came up with this routine that works pretty well.”
She stopped talking, her gaze fixed on the smile that lit his face, the warmth in his green eyes that caressed her features. She swallowed hard and could think of nothing else to say. Silence reigned in the small airplane except for the sound of its engines, a silence that was eroding her composure even more than bullets flying at her.
Deadly Race Page 4