Champ nimbly went through his preflight checklist and next hit a switch; the prop roared to life. Champ had just put on his headset when the door was thrown open and Michelle poked her head in.
“Hey, Champ, got room for one more?”
He looked at her for several seconds, as though she couldn’t possibly be real. A moment later his hand flew to the sidearm on his belt, only Michelle’s fist was faster. The blow knocked Champ sideways in his seat, blood spurting from his nose.
He rolled over into the co-pilot’s seat and then out the other door. Michelle jumped across the seat after him.
Champ fell out onto the ground and Michelle was right on top of him. As he tried to get up she hit him with a brutal kick that caught the man on the side of his head and dropped him again. His leg shot out and tripped her. She went tumbling back against the plane. The Cessna was vibrating, its engine chafing against the plane’s restraints.
Champ managed to pull his gun, but Michelle’s well-aimed kick sent it flying out of his hand. A second later he landed a fist to her side and Michelle’s ribs screamed in agony. The next second, a foot followed the fist and Michelle realized she was in for a real fight as she fell to the ground but just as quickly regained her feet.
The two faced off against the backdrop of the whirring plane.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Champ screamed.
“Making a citizen’s arrest,” Michelle yelled back as her gaze darted over him, looking for any opening.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Me! Since when does a respected physicist turn into a drug runner for the CIA? That’s what’s in the bales, right? Drugs?”
“Michelle, you don’t understand what’s going on here.”
“So explain it to me.”
“I can’t, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me! What about Monk Turing? Len Rivest?”
“I’m just trying to do my job. You have to believe that.”
“Sorry, Champ, I’m fresh out of trust.” While they’d been speaking she’d been inching toward him. Now, Michelle whirled and connected a kick to his head sending the man flying backward. Yet before she could strike again, he’d recovered and slammed a foot into her shoulder, sending her back on her ass. She leapt up and avoided another blow, managing to duck under his swing, and delivered a hard shot to his kidney. Amazingly, it didn’t drop him. He staggered back, breathing hard, but with his defenses still intact.
“You’re good,” she called out over the plane’s engine.
“Maybe not as good as you,” he admitted. He looked over his shoulder. “Michelle, you need to get out of here.”
“Why, so you can fly off with the drugs?”
“I’m doing nothing criminal. You have to trust me.”
“I told you, I’m fresh out.” She leaped and her foot connected with his chest. He fell back and unfortunately landed next to his gun. He grabbed the pistol, took point blank aim and—
Michelle dove back into the cockpit and slammed the door shut as a round from Champ’s pistol exploded through the glass. Michelle frantically scanned the controls. She’d watched Champ go through his flight checklist when they’d gone up. Now that attention to detail paid off. She released the foot brake, pushed the throttle ahead and the Cessna shot forward.
Another bullet came winging through the cockpit and this time Michelle could not get out of the way. She grunted in pain as the slug bit hotly into her arm leaving a bloody crease before exiting out the opposite window. She rammed the throttle ahead and the Cessna picked up speed, zipping down the concrete toward the main runway. Champ sprinted after her, his gun waving in his hand. He sent another shot at the plane’s tail but missed.
“Stop,” he screamed. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Stop!”
Michelle had no intention of taking the Cessna off the ground. She throttled forward at the same time she stood on the right foot pedal throwing the small plane into a one-eighty. Champ stopped dead as the plane turned directly at him. He raised his gun to fire but instead turned and ran. As fleet as he was Michelle had to throttle back to keep from running over him. As the plane bore down on him he screamed and threw himself sideways, rolled down an embankment and crashed into a set of gasoline drums.
Michelle cut the throttle, engaged the brake, jumped out and raced down the embankment. She didn’t wait for Champ to attempt to get up. She launched herself from halfway up the rise and landed on top of him, her elbow slamming into the back of his head. Champ let out one groan and then his eyes closed and his body went limp.
“You’re not dying on me, Champ,” she said furiously as she rolled him over and checked his pulse. “Prison is calling, you stupid genius freak.” His breathing was steady and his pulse strong and he would no doubt wake soon with a monster headache and an overpowering desire to call his lawyer. She looked around, spotted some cable hanging on the exterior wall of a storage shed, and used that to tie him up.
She searched his pockets, found his cell phone and car keys and ran back to the plane. Throwing the door open she climbed in, cut the engine, jabbed one of the keys into the bale nearest her and checked it. Heroin, she was almost certain. She stuffed some of it in a bag she pulled from a storage compartment in the plane. As she was turning to leave, a sound caught her ears from the back of the plane, behind the bales. Then she saw one of the packages move a bit.
She began heaving the bales out of the way. At the very rear of the cabin something was wrapped in a blanket. And that something was squirming.
Michelle pulled at the blanket and it finally fell away, revealing a tied-up and gagged Viggie.
Michelle quickly freed her and they raced off the plane.
“Mick—” Viggie began.
“Tell me later. Now, just run.”
They reached Champ’s Mercedes and climbed in. Michelle called Merkle Hayes at home, woke the man up and gave him a rundown of what had happened. “Get to Babbage Town with everybody you can,” she screamed into the phone.
“Holy shit,” was all the lawman could manage to say.
Michelle fired up the car and gunned the motor. With a wide-eyed Viggie hanging on to whatever she could, Michelle laid rubber down the entire length of the small parking lot before hitting the road, hanging a left and accelerating, leaving behind an unconscious genius ripe for a long prison sentence and a Cessna full of heroin courtesy of the CIA. She hit a hundred on the straightaway and kept her foot mashed to the floor.
Chapter 84
Sean crouched down behind a low hedge. What he was seeing destroyed what little hope he had of surviving tonight. Men in black body armor with MP5s—clearly government guns from across the river—were talking with two of the security guards left at Babbage Town.
This group spread out and started heading Sean’s way. He immediately skirted the tree line and plunged into the woods where he hoped he would be far to the right of the group. He emerged a few minutes later into a clearing directly behind the late Len Rivest’s cottage. On the other side of the road from Rivest’s cottage was the back of Hut Number Three. He crept from tree to tree, keeping low. He could hear shouts and the sounds of running feet as he made his way slowly along.
Using a rock, he broke the lock on the back of the door to the laundry and crept in. The smell of detergent and bleach hit him as he looked around at the large commercial machines. It didn’t take him long to spot what he wanted. He grabbed the clothes and slipped back out.
Looking up ahead, he saw his destination: Alicia Chadwick’s cottage. It was dark inside. He made it to the back door unseen and jiggled the handle. It was unlocked. He moved inside, stopped and listened. All seemed clear. He suddenly ducked down as shadows raced down the street.
He went up the stairs, found his bedroom door and slipped in. He wanted to get to his cell phone, which he’d stupidly left behind when they’d fled from Babbage Town. Yet he almost instantly realized that his room had been searched and
everything taken. He left and moved to Alicia’s door, opened it and crept in with the intent of trying to find a phone in her room.
A blow struck him in the shoulder.
“Get away from me. Get away!” a voice yelled out.
He caught her hand before she could hit him again. “Alicia, it’s me. It’s Sean.”
She had been behind the door and had lashed out at him with, of all things, her prosthetic.
“Sean!” she said in amazement.
He held her tightly, trying to keep her upright on the one leg.
“What are you doing here? I thought you left,” he said.
“I thought you did too. I came back here in case Viggie showed up. Then I heard someone sneaking around in the house.”
“Alicia, we need to get out of here.”
“Why, what’s happened?”
“I can’t take the time to explain right now, but it involves the CIA, possibly drugs and murder. The spooks are all over the place, but I have a plan.”
She quickly strapped on her leg.
“Where’s Michelle?” she asked.
“I wish I knew. She followed the drugs. I… I hope she’s okay. Do you have a cell phone? I need to call the police.”
“I left it in my car.”
“Do you have a hard line phone here?”
“No, just the cell.”
“Damn it!” He looked around. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go to your car. I’m assuming it’s parked in the front?”
“Yes.”
He pulled out the clothes he’d taken from the laundry facility. They were a guard’s uniform. He quickly changed into them. When she saw the wound on his leg Alicia cried out, “Oh my God, Sean, you’re hurt.”
“Forget it. I’ll be in a lot worse shape if we don’t get out of here. Now if anyone stops you, you just tell them you’re scared, and you’re leaving. I’ll be shadowing you.”
“You’re wearing that uniform. Why can’t you just pretend you’re my escort?”
“The guards will recognize me if they get a look at my face. But from a distance they and the CIA guys will just see a uniform. I’ll join you in the front and we can get to the cops.”
She looked panicked. “Sean, what if they won’t let me leave? They might think I know something.”
“Alicia, just act frightened.”
She managed a weak smile. “That won’t be hard because I’m terrified.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “Do you think these men are the ones who took Viggie?”
He didn’t answer right away. “Yes, they’re the ones.”
He looked around the room and handed her a heavy paperweight lying on her nightstand. “It’s not much of a weapon, but it’s the best I can do right now.”
There were more noises from outside. He said, “Alicia, just take the main road past Hut Number Three and the pool and then out to the front courtyard.” He gripped her shoulders. “You can do this. You can!”
She finally nodded, drew a deep, calming breath and followed him downstairs.
A minute later everything was going fine. Two guards passed by, but didn’t stop her. She had just reached the pool when disaster struck. A team of armored men came rushing toward her. The lead man had his hand up for her to stop.
“Shit!” Sean muttered from his hiding place. He looked around for anything he could use to get them out of this jam. And then he saw it. He reached in his bag and pulled out the grenade he’d taken from the guard at Camp Peary, slipped out the pin and tossed it over the fence surrounding Hut Number Two. It clanged against the metal silo and dropped to the ground. Sean had already raced away and climbed into the low branches of a tree.
Five seconds later, the explosion ripped a large hole in the base of the silo and tons of water came pouring out. It swept in all directions like a river flooding its banks. Sean heard screams and looked out from his perch in time to see Alicia and the men in armor get hit with the rushing water, knocking them off their feet.
Alicia was carried alongside the deck and into some chairs at the other end of the pool. The three armored men were knocked unconscious when they collided with the stone fireplace.
As soon as the silo emptied out Sean sloughed through the knee-high but rapidly receding water toward Alicia. “Sorry about the tsunami,” he called out. “It was the only thing I could think of.” As he drew closer he realized something was wrong.
Alicia was clutching at her prosthetic, writhing in pain.
He ran forward and knelt down next to her. “Alicia, what is it?”
She moaned, “When the water hit me. It feels like a piece of steel is wedged in the top of my thigh. I can’t walk.”
“Oh damn!” Sean examined the leg. The next thing, he was tumbling headfirst into the pool water. His skull felt like it had been cracked. He settled down on the bottom of the shallow end and then propelled himself back to the surface. As soon as he did something settled around his neck and was pulled tight. He instinctively grabbed for whatever it was, but it was imbedded so tightly in his neck already that his fingers couldn’t reach it. He looked behind him.
Alicia had a garrote around his neck. She was strangling him.
He couldn’t breathe; his eyes were bulging out of his head. He tried to throw her off, but she wrapped her good leg around his middle and pulled on the cord with all her might. In a panic, he swung his fists behind him, trying to hit her, but missed. He aimed a punch at the leg wrapped around him, but she kicked him in the back with her other leg knocking the wind out of him. He toppled forward into the water, carrying her on his back. Yet unlike him Alicia was able to draw a deep breath. His brain was about to burst and the damn cord kept tightening. He had to take a breath. He felt himself failing. His body was shutting down.
Help me, Michelle. Help me, I’m dying. But Michelle wasn’t here.
And then like a miracle the pressure was gone from around his neck. And then so was the weight of Alicia. In a second he erupted out of the pool, taking huge breaths and retching in the water.
“Come on!”
His bursting brain could barely understand the words. Yes, it was Michelle; she’d gotten here in time to rescue him. She was safe. Safe!
“Now!” the hand grabbed him roughly.
He looked up into the face. Ian Whitfield stared back at him. Lying unconscious on the concrete pool surround was Alicia.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” the head of Camp Peary urged as he hauled up Sean.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sean managed to say, coughing up water and rubbing at his torn-up neck.
“No time to talk. Just move. This place is crawling with people.”
“Yeah, your people, you sonofabitch.”
“Not tonight they’re not. They’re two squads of paramilitary from the camp and they don’t report to me. Come on!”
Whitfield fast limped toward the gap between Hut Number Three and the main garage.
Sean hesitated for an instant. He looked down at Alicia. The paperweight she’d slugged him with was lying beside her. She’d tried to kill him. But why? The next second he heard cries coming from behind him. He ran off and joined Whitfield, who was crouched down next to a tree.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Sean demanded in a weak, scratchy voice.
“Not now,” Whitfield snapped. He pulled a pistol from his belt and handed it to Sean while he picked up an MP5 he’d obviously hidden behind the bush earlier. “If you have to use it, make it a head shot. The body armor they’re wearing will stop any pistol ammo.”
“Where are we trying to get to?”
“I’ve got a boat tied up about two hundred yards down from the dock.”
“Aren’t they patrolling the water?”
“Yes, but once we get to the boat I’ll hide you under some tarp. When they see it’s me, they won’t bother us.”
“Let’s go then.”
Whitfield put up a hand. “Not so fast. I’ve seen t
he grid search they have in place. As soon as they clear one area we enter it. We’ll work our way backward to the river.”
“Where’s Michelle?”
“No clue.”
“She was under the truck when it left Camp Peary.”
Whitfield looked stunned for a moment and then his features turned grim. “Shit.”
“Was it heroin they brought in on that plane? And the Arabs? Who were they?”
Whitfield brandished his weapon threateningly. “Look, King, I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation about jackshit. I’m here to save your neck and maybe right a few wrongs. Don’t make me reconsider my decision.”
Chapter 85
Michelle ditched the Mercedes before hitting the main road leading to Babbage Town and struck out through the woods to the river with Viggie in tow. On the drive over Viggie had explained how someone had come into her bedroom and pressed something against her face. The next thing she knew she was tied up and in the back of the plane.
Before plunging into the woods Michelle saw a stream of black Suburbans hurtling down the road to Babbage Town; Merkle Hayes’s police cruiser was leading the procession. At least the cavalry was here.
Michelle and Viggie skirted the banks of the York, keeping low because there was enough activity on the water to tell Michelle that something had happened.
The pair slipped and slid on the wet embankments of the York, but finally made it within the grounds of Babbage Town. Michelle looked to the sky as a plane soared overhead. It was soon out of sight and she turned her attention back to the enemies she faced on the ground. She had tried Sean’s cell phone before remembering he’d left it at Babbage Town. Then she had an inspiration. She called Horatio. He answered on the first ring and she succinctly explained what had happened including the fact that she had Viggie.
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