Natural Selection

by Liz Wolfe

  “Okay. You’re right.”

  “I am?” Connor sounded surprised.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Dad would want me to go to the police.”

  “Good.”

  “But, I will bring these men to justice. No matter what it takes.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “BUT, I HAVE TO GO,” Zoe complained.

  “No, actually, you don’t.” Shelby poured herself a cup of coffee that smelled a little burned.

  “But, I’m the one who lifted the damn PDA in the first place.”

  “You should have cleared that with me first.”

  “I need to clear stuff with you?” Zoe asked.

  “If you want to get anywhere, you do.”

  “Does Paige clear everything with you?”

  “Paige has been an investigator for over a year, and she was a cop before that.” Shelby put her coffee cup down. “Zoe, you have everything it takes to be a great investigator, but you need training and experience.”

  “And how do I get the experience if you never let me do anything?” Zoe crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

  She had a point, but Shelby wasn’t going to budge on this one. “This isn’t the time. I’ll take you on cases, and I’ll let you do some investigation by yourself. But you have to start slow and work your way up.”

  “Fine.”

  Shelby was pretty sure it wasn’t really fine with Zoe, but she had no choice. She wasn’t about to take her to the warehouse where David Howell was meeting some unknown person at two in the morning.

  “Look, Zoe, what you did was good. I got information from Howell’s PDA that I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else.”

  Zoe smiled and nodded.

  “I’m just saying that you need a little more experience.” Shelby held up her hand. “I know that snagging Howell’s PDA from his jacket was not a big deal to you. But in the future, I need to know when you’re going to do something like that.”

  “Well, that’s kind of hard, because most of the time the situation just presents itself, you know?” Zoe shrugged. “A lot of thievery is just taking advantage of the opportune moment.”

  “No doubt your thief skills will come in handy as an investigator. But those will be the least of your skills after I train you.”

  “Really?” Zoe didn’t sound as if she believed her at all.

  “Really.” Shelby set her coffee cup down and turned toward the stairs. “I’m going to take a nap before I go out. Why don’t you call it a day?” Shelby climbed the stairs to her living quarters, stripped out of her business suit, and set her alarm for eleven. She wanted to get to the warehouse well before Howell showed up.

  Sleep eluded her, and she kept glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Perhaps she was just jumping to conclusions. She hadn’t discovered anything that indicated Howell was doing something illegal. Still, he had no business having a copy of the Mobile Anti-Radar Device plans on his personal drive. And most people didn’t have appointments at two in the morning in a warehouse. But, mostly, it was just her instinct. The minute she’d met Howell, she’d had a creepy feeling about him. And he hadn’t done anything to dispel it.

  Shelby finally drifted off and woke just minutes before the alarm was set to ring. She put on a fresh pot of coffee and dressed in black pants and a long-sleeved black T-shirt while the coffee dripped into the pot. Shortly before midnight, she was driving over the Hawthorne bridge to the Eastland Industries warehouse with a thermos of coffee and her Desert Eagle .357 on the seat next to her.

  She followed Front Avenue along the river, then turned onto Nicolai Street. Shelby drove past the Eastland Industries warehouse, turned, and drove two blocks away to park her car. There were few streetlights in the area, but more than she would have preferred. The streets were almost empty with only a few cars parked in front of the different warehouses. The Eastland warehouse was dark, as were most of the others.

  Shelby walked down an alley that ran between Eastland’s warehouse and another brick building looking for a doorway or window, but the side of the building was a solid wall of brick. She continued on to the back of the building and finally located a window about eight feet off the ground with a conveniently placed dumpster beneath it. She climbed on top of the dumpster and pried the window open. Her flashlight illuminated the floor beneath the window. Nothing to get in her way.

  Shelby hoisted herself over the window sill and dropped to the floor. She paused for a moment but heard nothing. Good. She was the first one here. Pallets of crates were stacked along the far wall of the warehouse, and forklifts were parked to one side of the entrance. She would need to be close enough to Howell to hear his conversation. The only entrance appeared to be the two large openings with rolling doors and a single doorway to one side. Shelby crossed the floor and positioned herself behind the forklifts.

  After an hour of listening to rats scurrying around the warehouse, Shelby heard the doorknob rattle. The sound was followed by a spill of light as the door swung open. Shelby crouched lower and watched David Howell leave the door open and move into the warehouse. He set a briefcase on the floor and looked around. A large rat ran across her boot, and she clamped her lips against a squeal. The rat climbed onto one of the fork lifts and knocked something off. Shelby held her breath at the soft clatter.

  Howell turned and peered in her direction. The door swung open again, and another man entered. While Howell had on jeans and a polo shirt, this man was dressed in a suit and tie. Howell turned to greet him.

  “Right on time. That’s good.” Howell held out his hand, but the other man simply glanced at it.

  “You have the plans?”

  “I have what I said I’d bring. Mr. Scoresby isn’t going to hand over the plans until the deal is sealed.”

  “Of course. Show me what you brought.”

  Howell pulled a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and handed them to the man. “The deal is that you can look, but you can’t take them.”

  “I understand. I’m only verifying that Scoresby can produce a full set of plans when the time comes.”

  Crap. She had been right. Howell was selling plans of something to someone.

  “Yeah. And when is that?”

  “The Order expects the full plans on a CD next Friday.” He shuffled through the papers methodically, then handed them back to Howell.

  Shelby almost gasped. The Order? She didn’t want to even think that it could be a connection to the Dominion Order.

  “So, who is this Order I keep hearing about?” Howell asked.

  “I don’t believe you have a need for that information.” The man smiled thinly at Howell. “Please inform Mr. Scoresby that we will meet him at the appointed time.”

  “Good. Mr. Scoresby would like the payment sent to his account electronically.” Howell opened his briefcase and stuffed the papers inside.

  “Of course. The Order will arrive with the means to accomplish that.”

  Shelby listened and watched the rat climb down from the forklift and run across the floor to a small pile of rubbish. She silently willed the rodent to be still. No such luck. The rat burrowed into the pile of rubbish, causing a plastic cup to fall to the concrete floor. The sound reverberated through the empty warehouse.

  “Did you hear that?” Howell asked.

  The man pulled a gun from under his suit jacket. “Were you expecting company?”

  “I thought I heard something earlier, right before you got here.” Howell pulled a gun from under his T-shirt and moved toward the forklifts where Shelby was hiding.

  Crap!

  She pulled her Desert Eagle out and silently moved across the floor behind the forklifts. The only place to hide was behind the pallets of crates, but getting there would expose her. She moved to the last forklift and crouched while she watched the two men advance.

  The man in the suit moved quickly and carefully. She watched him approach the forklift and knew she needed t
o make a decision.

  Howell held his gun like he’d been watching too many cop shows. He approached the pile of rubbish making enough noise to startle the rat, causing something else to fall from the top of the heap.

  “It’s okay!” Howell called. “It was just a rat in a pile of trash.”

  The man in the suit stopped. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Just saw him run away.”

  The man squinted into the darkness, then turned and holstered his gun. “I understand you are the contact since Mr. Scoresby is unavailable at the moment?”

  “Mr. Scoresby will be back next week. In the meantime, all communication goes through me,” Howell said.

  “Very well. The Order will be in touch to set a precise time for the delivery. Please understand that delays are unacceptable.” The man turned and left, leaving Howell standing next to the rubbish.

  When the door closed, Howell gave him the finger. “Asshole.” He picked up his briefcase and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Shelby waited fifteen minutes to make sure they were gone, then cautiously opened the door a crack. When she was certain they had left, she slipped out the door and closed it behind her.

  Howell was definitely selling plans. Shelby wasn’t certain that the plans were those of the Mobile Anti-Radar Device. And she didn’t know for sure if the Order they spoke of was the Dominion Order. But her gut told her she was right on both counts.

  Crap. That meant she needed to talk to Ethan.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  PAIGE KNEW THE WAITING MUST BE getting on everyone’s nerves. It was certainly getting on hers. She was tempted more than once to head for the plane, but she knew she had to wait for several hours after the Hunters had gone to bed. The men had returned late in the afternoon and gone inside the house. Everything seemed normal. Whatever that was in this particular situation. Smelling the dinner the Hunters cooked put everyone even more on edge. Finally, the lights went out.

  Paige instructed the group to cook their meager dinner. At least that would give them something to do for a while. She packed a flashlight and the precious distributor cap into her backpack, slung the AK-47 over her shoulder, and set out for the plane with Connor.

  The lagoon where the plane was tied up was visible from the Hunters’ house, but just barely. They crept past, and she couldn’t help keeping her eyes glued to it, but no one stirred. So far, so good.

  Paige eyed the Hunters’ motor yacht as she and Connor made their way down the wooden pier. It looked large enough to sleep a dozen people, and, even in the dark, she could see that it was luxurious and outfitted for deep-sea fishing.

  When Connor lifted the cover of the plane’s engine compartment, the screech of metal made her jump. She glanced at the Hunters’ house, but all remained quiet. At Connor’s nudge, she brought out the flashlight and aimed the beam at the engine, handing him the distributor cap. Paige moved to keep her body between the light and the house, just in case someone was looking out the windows.

  She watched his sturdy hands place the cap on what she assumed was the appropriate part and connect the wires to other places, wishing he’d do it faster.

  “Hold that light steady,” he said as she bobbled the flashlight beam, looking over her shoulder at the house.

  A tiny light flared bright then went out, followed by a miniscule red glow. Paige killed the flashlight and put her hand over Connor’s lips when he started to complain, pointing to the house.

  The moonlight silhouetted a man standing on the porch of the house, smoking a cigarette or cigar. They waited for him to raise an alarm. Nothing. Paige thought she must have killed the light before he saw them. She was hoping he’d have a quick smoke and go back inside. He lingered. Must be a damn cigar.

  After an interminable time, the tiny red glow disappeared, and the man moved back inside the house. Still, Paige was afraid to turn on the flashlight.

  “Light!” Connor whispered.

  “Not yet. He just went inside.”

  They waited a few more minutes.

  “Now,” Connor said.

  “Not yet.”

  “He’s gone back to bed, Paige. Give me some light so I can get this done.”

  She flicked on the flashlight, shielding it with her body again so it would be less noticeable from the house. She hoped that Connor could finish whatever he was doing in the next five seconds.

  A couple of minutes later Connor closed the engine cover and turned to her.

  “All done.”

  Paige breathed a sigh of relief and turned off the flashlight. She looked over at the motor yacht docked next to the plane. No doubt as soon as the Hunters realized their prey had taken the plane, the bastards would leave the island in their fancy boat. They would escape back to wherever they had come from. And how would the police ever find them? Or prove what they’d done? She would prefer to keep them right where they were.

  “Come on,” Paige whispered to Connor.

  “What?”

  “Just follow me.” She spared a glance at the Hunters’ house. All was quiet. Taking Connor’s hand, she pulled him across the pier and hoisted herself on board the Hunters’ boat.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Connor demanded.

  “Where’s the engine compartment?”

  Connor pointed and Paige led the way. “Here?” she asked, stopping at the front of the boat next to the controls.

  Connor nodded, pointing to the deck. There was a small hatch set into the floor with a metal ring recessed in it.

  “Let’s make sure they can’t get off the island. Where’s the fuel line?”

  Connor grinned at her. “Excellent idea.” He hooked his fingers in the metal ring and lifted the hatch.

  Paige pulled her knife from the back of her waistband and handed it to him, sending up a little prayer of thanks that he knew something about engines because she didn’t even know what she was looking at. Connor cut a tube, handed the knife back to Paige, and replaced the cover. The smell of gasoline filled the air, and she hoped it wouldn’t carry to the house and alert the Hunters to what they had done.

  Paige woke everyone the next morning as soon as the sun rose. Getting out of the cave and hiking down to the bamboo stand had opened Aleisha’s shoulder wound and Alex’s foot. They were both bleeding again, and Paige was worried about infection. She took the bandage off Aleisha’s shoulder and cleaned it the best she could with the meager first aid kit and some water, while Ty did the same for Alex’s foot. Paige wasn’t happy with the result, but it would have to do for now, and, hopefully, they would be able to get medical attention later in the day.

  The Hunters were taking their own sweet time this morning and didn’t leave the house until nine. Finally, Paige heard the Jeep start, and Connor moved to the edge of the bamboo to watch them leave.

  “Let’s go!” Paige waved everyone to follow her.

  Connor picked up the backpack with her stuff in it. “You want this?”

  Paige hadn’t taken it because she had the AK-47 slung over her shoulder, but now she remembered that her extra knives were in there, and a book that she treasured. A gift from her father. “Can you get it?” she asked.

  “No problem.” Connor shrugged into the backpack and brought up the rear as they trooped through the bamboo. Coming out of the stand, Paige turned to skirt around the Hunters’ house and headed to the lagoon. She had to remind herself to move slower than usual. Alex was having a hard time with his foot, and Aleisha seemed so tired, she wasn’t moving fast either. Everyone’s step picked up when they rounded the corner and saw the pier with the plane tied up.

  Ty and Nick climbed in first and reached down to help Aleisha and Alex as Connor boosted them on board. Paige stood with her back to the plane, AK-47 at the ready, watching for the Hunters.

  “Your turn,” Connor said.

  “I can’t believe we’re really getting out of here.”

  “Believe it.” Connor gri
nned and boosted her up. He untied the line that moored the plane to the dock, then grabbed the handrails and hauled himself into the plane. Paige took the co-pilot’s seat next to Connor, and the others settled into seats in the back.

  Connor turned the ignition and the starter made a grinding sound. The engine sputtered and stalled. A collective groan came from the rear of the plane.

  “No problem. I can fix it. Just hold tight.” Connor climbed back down to the pier and opened the engine compartment.

  Paige heard a few colorful words in unfamiliar combinations. Then some clanking and more cursing.

  “Turn the ignition,” Connor yelled at her.

  She leaned over and turned the ignition, but the engine sputtered again and died. Connor spent another couple of minutes cursing and banging on some engine part.

  “Again,” he instructed her. She turned the ignition. The engine sputtered, choked, and finally caught. A collective cheer came from the rear of the plane this time.

  Connor fiddled with something else and cocked an ear to the engine.

  That’s when Paige heard the Jeep. The noise of the engine had drowned out their approach, and now they were barreling toward the pier.

  “Get in. They’re coming!” Paige yelled.

  Connor slammed the engine cover and grabbed for the handrails. The Hunters fired at them. Connor’s grip on the handrails slipped, and he slammed into the side of the plane, his head thunking against the metal. Paige was already hanging out the door when Ty joined her, and together they pulled Connor up and slammed the door.

  Connor dropped into the pilot seat, revved the engine and pushed the throttle forward. The plane skimmed along the calm surface of the lagoon, picking up speed. Taking them further away from the Hunters. Connor pulled back on the joystick, and the plane lifted. Paige looked down and saw the Hunters still firing at the plane, but they were out of range.