Reap the Wind

by Iris Johansen

  Jonathan rose to his feet and walked over to examine the beam.

  Alex tugged experimentally at the post. “I think it’s giving a little. If we use the rope to pull—”

  “Really, Alex, I’d think you would have learned to rely on your brain, not your brute strength.” Kemal strode around the curve of the tunnel. “How often must I tell you that?”

  Alex stepped back away from the beam, staring at the Uzi cradled in Kemal’s right arm. “Are you supposed to finish us off?”

  “Where are your instincts?” Kemal asked mockingly. “Isn’t it obvious I have the soul of a hero even if fate has seen fit to cast me as a villain? It took me a few minutes to properly set up your escape and slip away from Ledford, but here I am to the rescue.” His smile vanished as his gaze went to the crevasse. “Where is Caitlin?”

  “Isn’t it a little late to ask that?” Alex asked. “What if I told you she’d fallen?”

  “Then I would not be able to forgive myself,” Kemal said simply. “Did it happen?”

  “She managed to get across,” Chelsea said. “By now she should be almost out of the tunnel. No help from you, bastard.”

  Kemal expelled his breath in a sigh of relief. “Then you must join her immediately. You don’t have much time.” He turned and started back the way he had come. “Come along.”

  “Wait,” Alex said.

  “No time.” Kemal didn’t stop. “Hurry.”

  “I’m supposed to trust you?”

  “Have you any choice?” Kemal’s tone became softly urgent. “Believe me, I did not mean to put Caitlin in danger. He told me he was keeping them both as hostages.”

  Alex hesitated and then started after Kemal.

  “I can’t believe this. You’re going to do as he asks?” Chelsea asked incredulously as she scrambled to her feet and followed them. “He’s a louse.”

  “He’s also our best bet,” Alex said.

  “I certainly am.” Kemal stopped before a large boulder lodged against the right wall. He rolled it aside to reveal a four-foot cavity hacked out of the wall. He gestured to Chelsea. “Ladies first.”

  Chelsea looked at the opening suspiciously. “Where does it lead?”

  “To the main tunnel,” Kemal replied. “Since our friend Ledford is such an abominable person, I thought it wise to make sure I had a way of escape if needed. So while Ledford was off spreading chaos through Europe, I was exploring the countryside and tunnels and digging bolt-holes.” He checked his watch. “Ten minutes. You should have no problem. The main tunnel is a straight shot.”

  “No little surprises?” Chelsea asked dryly.

  Kemal shook his head. “After you’re through the opening, turn left and keep going. It ends about a half-mile from where this offshoot tunnel exists. Four minutes and you’ll be out of the tunnel. I’ve parked your jeep in the shrubbery about a hundred yards from the exit. Take it and make a run for the ruins to warn the delegation.”

  Chelsea dropped to her knees and began crawling through the opening and Jonathan followed.

  “Why?” Alex asked Kemal bluntly.

  “Go,” Kemal said.

  Alex fell to his knees and began to crawl through the opening. Kemal followed, and when he rose to his feet he gestured to the left. “Four minutes. I promise.” He gave Alex the Uzi he was carrying. “You may need this. Krakow’s team may not welcome your interference. Good luck, my friend.” He turned right and strode down the corridor in the direction from which he had come.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Alex called.

  “To make myself a rich man,” Kemal called. “You forget the Wind Dancer is still here.”

  “You idiot, the place is going to blow.”

  “Some prizes are worth a little risk.”

  Alex hesitated and Kemal smiled understandingly over his shoulder. “Another choice. You want to go with me and kill Ledford but you know Caitlin and the delegation are still in danger. I think you know what your choice must be.” He shrugged. “Will it help if I tell you Ledford will not survive? It was my plan from the beginning of our association that he would die. In fact, it was why our association began.”

  Alex’s gaze narrowed on Kemal’s face. “It wasn’t only the money?”

  “Adnan only managed the Harem, Ledford owned it.”

  “What!”

  “He bought the controlling interest at the same time he came to Istanbul and arranged the purchase of the house on the Street of Swords. It was a purely personal extravagance on his part. He even acquired three of the children for Adnan.” He shrugged. “I really don’t believe Ledford deserves to be emperor of South America.”

  “But you do?”

  Kemal glanced over his shoulder, his face illuminated by a mischievous grin. “What do you think?”

  In another moment he had disappeared from view.

  “Do we trust him?” Chelsea asked.

  “Yes,” Alex said slowly. “Yes, we trust him.” He turned left and started down the tunnel at a fast trot.

  “Don’t wait for us,” Jonathan said as he slipped his arm around Chelsea’s waist to support her. “We’ll be a little slower.”

  “I can walk by myself,” Chelsea protested.

  “I’m sure you could walk on water if you chose,” Jonathan said. “But it’s quicker this way, so be quiet.”

  In four minutes Alex emerged at the tunnel opening and stood waiting for the others to join him. He stared out over the plateau and suddenly stiffened. Caitlin!

  Caitlin, barefoot, clothes torn, was running down the incline to the plain that led to the Hisarlik plateau.

  “Caitlin!”

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “Alex?”

  “Come back, there’s a jeep.”

  She turned and streaked back up the incline. “Where?”

  “In the underbrush,” Jonathan said as he came out of the cave and started toward the place where the jeep was hidden. “Let’s get going. We don’t have much time. Stay here, Chelsea.”

  “No way.”

  “Look, those soldiers are going to come at us like bats out of hell when they catch sight of us.”

  She limped toward the jeep. “Don’t argue with me. You never know. Maybe one of those soldiers is a fan. I could save your neck. I’m going.”

  Caitlin started to follow her and then stopped, looking back at the cave opening.

  Alex froze. “No, Caitlin.”

  “What if that bastard gets away?”

  “Don’t you think I feel the same way? Kemal promised me he’d take care of him. I trust him.”

  “I don’t know why you’re trusting Kemal’s word, but I don’t give a damn about his promises. Ledford killed my mother. He burned Vasaro. I have to make sure he’s punished.” She held up her hand as he started to protest. “I’m not idiot enough to go back in that cave. Do you have any idea where the main entrance is?”

  “Are you coming?” Jonathan was backing the jeep out of the underbrush.

  Caitlin met his gaze. “Where is it, Alex?”

  “This entire hill could explode.”

  “Where is it?”

  She wasn’t going to be persuaded. And God forgive him, he was glad he was going to get his chance at Ledford.

  “A triangular red rock, top of the hill.” He waved Jonathan to go ahead without them before turning and grabbing Caitlin’s arm. “Move fast. Run. We’ll skirt around this cave opening and up the hill and hope we can get up there before it blows.”

  21

  “Hello, Kemal, I’ve been expecting you.” Ledford stood with his right hand resting caressingly on the filigreed wing of the Wind Dancer sitting on the table and his left hand gripping a .42 Magnum revolver. “Did you think I didn’t suspect you? I found it singularly strange an efficient fellow like yourself wouldn’t be able to locate Alex during those weeks after we destroyed Vasaro and then, too, you were a little too concerned about the fate of my hostages.” He raised his brows. “But I do admit I’m disappoi
nted. I thought you’d bring Alex back with you or I wouldn’t have let you go after them.”

  “You’ve lost him,” Kemal said. “You’ve lost everything, Ledford.”

  “Nonsense. Nothing has changed. My plan is proceeding quite nicely. The Rembrandt’s loaded in the car and I have six minutes to get to the checkpoint before Hans blows the wooden statue.” He lifted the gun. “And I have a weapon with which to blow out your brains.”

  “A gun loaded with dummies.” Kemal walked slowly toward him. “An efficient fellow like me wouldn’t overlook a minor detail like that.”

  Ledford aimed at the center of Kemal’s forehead. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?”

  Ledford pulled the trigger.

  It was almost time.

  Hans blew on his hands to warm them, and sighted down the Springfield rifle at the path directly before the wooden Trojan horse. Then he settled himself more comfortably against the rock to wait.

  From this hill he judged the distance to be a little under a thousand yards, and the Springfield carried only one shot. You didn’t need more than one shot when you were the best, he mused. He smiled as he watched the scene below him. That big scarlet tent they’d set up made the plateau look like a bloody circus. The comparison amused him. Yeah, and Krakow’s antiterrorist boys and all those British soldiers strutting around were the clowns.

  Krakow helped the old woman from the bus and smiled ingratiatingly. He could see the bastard’s lips move as he spoke and turned to walk beside Cartwright as the rest of the party followed them from the bus toward the wooden horse.

  Brian had told him to hold his hand until all the conference members were inside that stupid wooden horse, but he was done with orders. He would do as he pleased.

  He smiled with pleasure as he thought of Brian’s surprise in that last moment before he sent him to hell.

  Yes, it was almost time.

  “How much time?” Chelsea shouted.

  “Five minutes.” Jonathan pressed harder on the accelerator and the jeep leapt forward.

  “Can we make it?”

  “How the hell do I know?” The jeep tore across the plain toward the ruins on the plateau.

  The jeep careened over the plain like a drunken rhinoceros toward the ruins.

  Hans’s gaze narrowed on the oncoming vehicle. Another unexpected disruption of Brian’s plans?

  He lifted his binoculars to get a closer look. A man and a woman. Should he take the driver out?

  He decided against it. He was too far away to use anything but the Springfield, and that one bullet was reserved exclusively for Krakow. Besides, the soldiers on the perimeter had already seen them and might do his job for him. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes before the statue was due to blow.

  Still, this new disturbance might upset the delicate balance of his own plan. He’d better consider the option of escalating the action.

  He reached into his pocket and drew out the two tiny black switch boxes that could override the timers on the plastique in both the Trojan statue and the tunnel and set off the explosion. He had gone back into both the tunnel and wooden horse the night before and very carefully hidden the second radio-controlled detonator beneath the plastique. A blue button for the Trojan horse, red button for the tunnel.

  He held Brian’s fate in the palm of his hand. Hans had the power now. He was the one in control.

  He didn’t really have to wait another five minutes.

  “They’re actually going to shoot at us,” Chelsea said in disbelief as she saw one of the British soldiers in the jeep approaching them raise his automatic rifle. “Don’t they know we’re trying to save them?”

  “I told you not to come, dammit. For all they know, the jeep could be packed with dynamite on a suicide mission. Get down on the floorboards.”

  “So they can shoot at you instead?” Chelsea held on to the seat bar.

  “Is it going to help me if you get shot?” Jonathan swerved across the plain in a zigzag path to spoil the soldier’s aim.

  “Can’t we stop and try to explain?”

  Jonathan shook his head as he glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Four minutes.” He barreled down the road toward the huge wooden horse.

  Hans frowned, sitting up straight against the rock.

  The jeep was going to get through. In another minute Krakow would become aware of the jeep and take alarm.

  Hans sighted down the telescopic lens.

  Krakow was standing beside Cartwright on the path leading to the Trojan horse. He was smiling, his white-gold hair lifting in the strong breeze.

  Slowly, steadily, Hans’s finger pressed the trigger of the rifle.

  A bright red blossom appeared on Krakow’s forehead. His ingratiating smile was captured forever as his brain functions ceased.

  One down.

  Now for the diversion and the signal to tell Brian who was really in control.

  Hans’s thumb pressed down on the blue button.

  The wooden horse of Troy blew into a cloud of flame.

  A flying spear of wood broke the windshield of the jeep as the wooden horse exploded.

  Jonathan jammed on the brake and pulled Chelsea to the floor as the blast lifted the jeep three feet in the air and then slammed it down again.

  “Something’s wrong. We had another four minutes,” Chelsea gasped. She clung to Jonathan, burrowing her face in his shoulder. “Something went wrong. . . .”

  “It appears Ledford’s friend, Hans, changed the rules.” Jonathan cautiously lifted his head and peered over the dashboard. The scene was a madhouse of movement, shouts, and screams. Members of the conference were running back toward the bus. Soldiers milled helplessly, staring in bewilderment at the roaring fireball where the giant wooden horse had stood. The tops of the pines surrounding the statue had caught fire and burned like giant torches at a funeral pyre.

  Krakow lay crumpled, unmoving, on the ground. Jonathan’s gaze went anxiously toward Cartwright and saw her picking herself up, dazedly brushing the dirt and leaves from her neat blue suit. “Cartwright’s all right.”

  “Krakow?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not moving. Everyone’s rushing toward the bus.”

  Chelsea sat up on the floor of the jeep. “But they’re all safe? I can’t believe that—”

  “Get out of the jeep.” The order came with crisp and deadly British incisiveness. “Keep your hands in full view or we’ll blow your asses away.”

  Jonathan glanced sidewise to see that the jeep containing the British soldiers that had been chasing them was now parked a few yards away. Three soldiers stood beside the jeep, and a tall man with a hooked nose, wearing the uniform of a British colonel, gazed at them with flintlike grimness. “Do it. It would be a pleasure to blow your head off, scum.”

  “Cartwright may be safe,” Jonathan said dryly as he gazed at the muzzles of the three M16s pointed at their heads. “But I’m not at all sure about us.”

  The hammer of Ledford’s Magnum clicked on an empty chamber.

  Kemal smiled as he pulled the bullets out of the pocket of his corduroy pants and held them up to show Ledford. He threw them aside and reached for the .38 revolver in his jacket pocket.

  A flicker of admiration crossed Ledford’s face as he lowered his gun. “Ah, you could have gone far, Kemal. I don’t believe I’ve ever met—”

  The earth shook and dirt suddenly rained down on the table.

  Shock froze Ledford’s expression. “Hans! Goddammit, it’s too soon!” He snatched up the Wind Dancer and held it before him. “That son of a bitch!”

  “Give me the Wind Dancer,” Kemal said.

  “Take it! I don’t think you’re going to risk putting a bullet through a statue this valuable.” Ledford’s eyes glittered in his pale face. “I’m getting out of here. I checked that timer myself. The bastard must have gone back and set a double switch. He can blow us anytime he wants to push that goddamn button.” He unexpectedly hurled his
gun at Kemal’s head. The butt of the weapon struck him on the temple.

  Pain. Darkness. Kemal fell to his knees, fighting to stay conscious.

  When his dizziness cleared a little, he saw that Ledford had dashed across the clearing and was on the ramp. The Wind Dancer gleamed in the lantern light. . . .

  He raised the gun and aimed at the back of Ledford’s head. Get him. Ignore this damn dizziness. Steady your hand. Kill the bastard.

  He pressed the trigger. Blood darkened the material of the shirt high on Ledford’s shoulder. He had missed, Kemal realized in frustration. He had failed.

  No, maybe not entirely. The impact of the bullet had caused Ledford to drop the Wind Dancer. It was falling through the air and hit the ground several yards from where Kemal knelt.

  Ledford muttered a curse as he stopped on the ramp and stared down at the statue.

  Kemal raised his gun again.

  But Ledford was gone before he could fire off the second shot.

  Go after him.

  The Wind Dancer . . . get the Wind Dancer first.

  God, he was dizzy. . . .

  Emerald eyes gleaming . . . there it was. Now get to the surface. The ramp seemed to stretch upward into eternity, he thought dazedly. He smiled wryly at the thought. Eternity was just where he would be heading unless he managed to move.

  He clutched the Wind Dancer and crawled slowly toward the ramp, gritting his teeth as hot, sickening pain shot through his head. He reached the ramp and started to crawl up it. Too slow. Much too slow. He had to get to his feet and make better time.

  Hans could decide to blow the tunnel any minute. . . .

  The huge red rock beckoned.

  Caitlin’s breath came in harsh pants as she climbed toward it.

  Katrine . . . Vasaro . . .

  “Okay?” Alex didn’t look back at her, his stride lengthening with eagerness as the target came into view.

  She didn’t have the breath to answer.

  Ugliness. Blood. Evil.

  Ledford.

  “Son of a bitch.” Alex had stopped short, his gaze on something ahead. “It looks like we’re not going to have to dig the rat out of his hole. There he goes.”