Mind Games

by Laura K. Curtis

  Marco came in on the run.

  “How many?”

  “A dozen. Maybe more. Pretty sure Miguel ejected, but didn’t stop to see.”

  The engine of the plane in the hangar coughed a few times, then roared to life. Trey brought it rolling out onto the short runway.

  “Jane! Dani! Get out here!”

  The first shots hit when the women were halfway across the tarmac. Two whistled by Eric’s head, embedding themselves in the wall of the hangar behind him with dull thunks. He fired back a few times, though he couldn’t see the shooters, who had yet to emerge from the jungle. Marco dropped to the ground beneath the belly of the plane and laid down a steady stream of suppressing fire, giving Eric the chance to run over and help boost the women up into the plane.

  Dani went first, pushing herself up with one foot resting on Eric’s shoulder as she clambered into the small second seat. The second the pressure from her foot lifted, he leaned down to help Jane. More shots cracked and pinged around them, one sending bits of pavement flying up to slice into his hands.

  Jane ducked and scrambled away from the bullets, which were coming from a new direction.

  And then Dani toppled backward out of the plane. He reached out instinctively and caught her before she hit the ground. Blood poured from a bullet crease across her temple.

  Holy fucking hell. He fired off five more shots in quick succession.

  “Put her back inside!” Jane shouted at him from the nose of the plane, where she’d taken shelter. “Trey can fly her to a hospital!”

  “You first!”

  But she shook her head. “No time! Give me a gun and put her in the damned plane!”

  No arguing with that. Their position was becoming more tenuous by the second. Marco slapped a new magazine into his rifle, and Trey stood up and began firing in a semicircle around the plane in every direction except toward the hangar. Eric slid his weapon across the tarmac in Jane’s direction and hoisted Dani in his arms. With Trey covering, he plopped her into the seat as best he could.

  “Jane! Get in! Now!”

  Jane inched her way around toward him, but a volley of bullets sent her running for shelter beneath the plane. One slammed into his vest, knocking him to the ground. He rolled and came up firing just as three men with AKs came out of the woods. They were out of time. Someone in this group had SAMs, and if the plane didn’t move, both Trey and Dani were dead meat.

  “Go!” he shouted at Trey. “We’ll catch you stateside!”

  He grabbed Jane’s hand and sprinted for the corner of the hangar where the jungle encroached on the airstrip. Marco took down one of the men and followed, firing constantly. The men concentrated on trying to stop the plane, but Trey was a hell of a pilot and it took off in a steep, smooth ascent over their heads even as they fired.

  Eric couldn’t stop to watch, but after a few minutes of running, he realized he hadn’t heard it explode, which meant they’d avoided the surface-to-air missiles. He sent up a brief prayer for both Trey and Dani. Trey would have a hard time dealing with killing Dani’s brother, let alone what would happen to him if the girl died on his watch. Jane wouldn’t deal well with Dani’s death, either. He’d been around survivor’s guilt often enough to know how corrosive it could be.

  • • •

  ERIC’S HAND ON hers was the only thing that kept Jane going. She could see nothing in the darkness of the forest after the bright lights of the airstrip. Any minute now she expected men to pop out of the underbrush and murder her. Please, God, let Dani and Trey be okay. She hadn’t seen their plane take off, too busy trying to keep from falling down as she stumbled along behind Eric after returning his gun. She’d managed to fire four shots in the time it took him to put Dani in the plane. They had nearly dislocated her shoulder, and she had no clue whether any had hit their targets. All around her, the crash and boom of weapons combined with the rumbling roar of the plane’s engine into a chaotic symphony of menace.

  Where would they go? Did Eric have a backup plan? They were deep in the middle of the jungle. They couldn’t possibly walk out. And even if they did, what would happen to them? The local authorities would likely shoot them on sight if Velasquez was as powerful as Eric seemed to think.

  “Hold up,” said Eric after a while. “I think we’ve lost them. At least temporarily.”

  Marco flipped a switch on the big eyepiece goggle he wore and scanned the woods. “Nothing human nearby,” he confirmed.

  “Okay, then. We can head for Extraction Bravo, but if they knew about Alpha, we might be in trouble. Keep an eye out, and let me see if I can get a signal on the sat phone.”

  He pulled what looked to Jane like an oversized cell phone out of his pack and extended a long antenna. In minutes, he had Lexie and Nash on the line and was explaining their situation. By putting her own head right next to his, Jane could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “I heard from Miguel,” Nash said. “He made it out before they blew up his plane. He’s gone underground for the moment while waiting to figure out whether anyone knew he was the one flying. He did see Trey get away. They sent missiles after him twice, but he avoided both of them. The explosions drew a lot of attention, though. There will probably be a fair amount of military and police presence in that area for a while.”

  “Yeah. We’re on the move.”

  “No one’s injured?”

  “We lost Alvaro. I’ll tell you when I get back. Dani’s injured, but Trey has her. You haven’t heard from him yet?”

  “No. He’ll be in touch when he’s secure, I’m sure. They may still be in the air. What’s he flying?”

  “Fuck if I know. Two-seater. He called it a Bear?”

  “Bear 360.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Lexie, see what you can find registered. Or not registered. We’ll try to track them down in case he loses comms. Eric, I want you, Jane, and Marco to head to LZ Charlie. With Alpha shot, Bravo is apt to be compromised. Since there are only three of you, I can get a small chopper in there. It will be a quick and dirty in and out. Easier than the Alpha extraction, more secure than Bravo. How far out are you?”

  Eric plugged a bunch of numbers into the device he wore on his wrist. “Forty klicks.”

  “How long will it take you cross-country?”

  In the darkness, Jane could feel Eric’s eyes on her. “We’re pretty ragged, Nash. Gonna take twenty-four, at least. Especially if we have to avoid military and police presence.”

  “I hear you. See if you can find a vehicle. I’ll do what I can on my end.”

  “Good deal.”

  “Ready?” he asked when he’d put the phone away.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she replied. Twenty-four hours of hiking. Would she make it? Anyone can walk, Dani had said, but Jane wasn’t so certain that was true. Her thighs and the soles of her feet protested

  every step.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take breaks. I promise.”

  Was she that obvious? “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. But it’s necessary. I wish it weren’t.” He took her hand, and once again they moved out. The woods around them stirred with life. Night creatures darted across their path and scurried away as they slid through the jungle. Eric made sure Jane drank frequently from his canteen, and when they came to a small stream, he attached a filter and refilled it and Marco’s while she rested and ate another protein bar. If she never saw another piece of prepackaged food in her life, it would be too soon.

  The sun rose, and the air heated from tolerable to disgusting as they hiked. Eric kept their pace relatively slow, but after the third or fourth stop, Jane simply couldn’t get up.

  “Okay,” Eric said. “We rest. I’ll call Nash.”

  Jane sat with her back resting against a thick tree trunk as Marco moved away to scout the area for any lurking thre
ats. Eric paced as he talked, his crystalline eyes surveying the area without stopping.

  “Nash says Trey and Dani landed safely,” Eric said. “They’re in Mexico City. Miguel’s called in, too. He’s going to fly them to Nuevo Laredo, where Nash will have transport waiting to fly Dani to a good hospital. No one is looking for him; they just fired on that plane because they knew it was coming to pick us up.”

  “Laredo is a fucking pit,” Marco’s voice echoed in Jane’s earpiece.

  Eric laughed. “And this isn’t? But seriously, Nash and Trey can get her across the border there easily.”

  Thank God. Dani would be safe.

  Eric sat down next to her. “Marco, you good keeping watch?”

  “Yep.”

  “Holler if you see anything.” Unceremoniously, he picked Jane up and settled her in his lap. “Sleep,” he ordered, his arms closing around her like blankets of pure muscle. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. He stank, but so did she. She didn’t care. He felt so damned good. Like security and home and light in the darkness. She buried her head against the peculiarly hard surface of his vest and went to sleep.

  Chapter 12

  ERIC RUBBED HIS cheek over the top of Jane’s head and tried to come up with a plan beyond “get the fuck out of Mexico.” Assuming they could make it to the LZ, and assuming Velasquez didn’t blow the fucking helo up the way he had Miguel’s plane, he’d take her back to New York. He’d love to lock her in his apartment and keep her there until Velasquez was dead and gone, but she’d never agree. She had a life, and he had to respect that. But he couldn’t let her go back to work at AHI, either. Not only would that be the first place Velasquez would look for her, but also he didn’t trust Clive Handler further than he could throw him. The man ran the lab where the Warlock research had begun.

  Jane believed in him. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to sleep now, no matter how tired she was. He wasn’t about to fail her.

  He tightened his grip slightly, and she shifted, cuddling closer. She was a mess. The bandages Trey had put on her feet were filthy and ragged, he could see broken nails on her hands, and a wide variety of bugs had bitten the tender skin of her face and neck.

  But she’d soldiered on as well as any man under his command ever had. He’d watched her try to stand twice before she gave up. He could carry her, and he would if he had to, but allowing everyone a breather was a better plan.

  “Marco?”

  “So far, so good.”

  Move forward. When you can’t think thirty steps ahead, think twenty. When you can’t do twenty, do ten. Or five. Or one. First, they had to get out of the jungle. A chopper wouldn’t have the gas to get them out of Mexico, but Velasquez didn’t control the whole country. Just his little corner of it. They’d make their move stateside into California or Texas, then from there back to New York.

  “Yo, boss. We’ve got movement.”

  “Fuck.” Eric glanced at his watch. Forty minutes. For him, for Marco, forty minutes of sleep would get them through three days, but it wasn’t going to help Jane much. “Hey, baby,” he whispered into her ear. “Time to wake up.”

  “Huh?”

  “We have to get a move on.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened and she struggled to her feet.

  “Can you walk? If not, I can carry you.”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “We’re moving, Marco. Headed upstream.”

  “Gotcha.”

  He waded into the middle of the stream. “We’re just going to follow this for a while. You go ahead of me so I can catch you if anything happens.”

  She picked her way into the water, a muscle jumping in her cheek the only sign that her feet bothered her. She moved forward, each step carefully placed so she didn’t fall, but even the muddy water couldn’t obscure the blood on her pants from earlier mishaps. He could happily murder both Velasquez and Bryan Axlerod with his bare hands for what they’d done to her.

  Thunder rumbled, rolling over them. Just what this clusterfuck needed, a storm. He counted to six before lightning pierced the sky above them. Maybe it would miss them. But with the way things had gone on this mission, it would come down just in time to make landing the helo impossible.

  A shot rang out behind them and to the east.

  “I’m on the move,” Marco said. “Apparently, they’re tired of being picked off.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Get out. I can take care of myself. I’ll meet you at the LZ if not before.”

  “Be careful.”

  A grunt was Marco’s only answer.

  “Okay, Janie, we’re going to have to run for it, which means you get a ride.”

  “I can go faster if you need me to.”

  Yeah, he doubted it. Besides, he was built for this kind of life; she wasn’t. “Remember what Trey said? I’m the expert. And in my expert opinion, we’ll make better time with you on my back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” He shrugged out of his pack and made her put it on, tightening the straps. Then she climbed onto his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as she had leaving the mansion. Had that really been just twenty-four hours before? He abandoned the stream for more secure footing next to it and took off at a steady jog.

  Luckily, the stream went in their direction for a good ten kilometers. Before they peeled away from the water, they stopped for a quick drink, refill, and snack. He left Jane with one pistol while he took another and scouted the area. She couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, as he’d seen at the airfield, but maybe she’d scare away anyone who showed up. He didn’t see their pursuers anywhere, but he missed the assurance of Marco’s eagle-eyed presence. The forest was so thick men could be a hundred yards away—a hundred feet if they were being quiet—and he might miss them.

  Once they left the water, their direction took them downhill for a while, so Eric slowed his pace to a quick walk, which meant Jane could keep up with him by herself, though she sometimes had to break into a few jogging steps to do so.

  The storm hit midafternoon. Torrents of rain sluiced down like waterfalls off the broad leaves of the trees and created runnels in the dirt. Thick muck clung to Eric’s boots, and Jane lost both her shoes when they were sucked right off her feet. He stopped to dig them out of the muck, then lifted Jane and carried her to a spot where the dense cover provided some protection from the downpour.

  “I’m going to tape the shoes to your feet over the bandages. You can’t afford to lose them. Trey wasn’t kidding about the dangers out here, and I don’t want you to step on something that might bite or sting without the damned shoes.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He wrapped layers of duct tape around her feet, trying to leave enough of the rubber soles of the shoes showing to stop her from slipping badly in the mud and wet undergrowth. “Sorry, this won’t be comfortable.”

  When he was done, she flexed her feet a couple of times. “You weren’t kidding about uncomfortable. Jeez.” But to his surprise she winked at him. “I bet these things would protect me from a freaking piranha-conda.”

  His heart lightened a little. “At the very least.”

  “Good. Then I feel much safer. Let’s go. I need a shower.” She stepped out into the rain, and he joined her, taking her hand.

  • • •

  SHE INSISTED ON walking the rest of the way, refusing to let him carry her as they hiked through the afternoon and into the early evening, and insisting she could go on when he stopped to let her rest. On the third such rest, while she sat atop a tree stump, he heard shouting in the distance. The rain had lightened to a drizzle, but the sun was sinking and visibility was nil.

  “Can you climb?” he asked. She nodded. “Up you go, then.” He jerked his head at a tall tree. She scrambled up clumsily, the b
lasted shoes with their layers of padding giving her trouble. When she was settled well above his head in the leafy canopy, he pulled on his NVGs and picked his way through the woods toward the voices.

  The men were below them in a small valley that he and Jane would have to pass through to get to the helo landing zone. Three Jeeps, ten men, a whole lot of firepower. The men were dressed in military garb, but in Eric’s experience that didn’t necessarily mean they were members of Mexico’s actual armed forces. Drug lords liked to dress their soldiers as Army to obscure their operations and confuse opposition.

  He flattened himself to the ground and belly-crawled toward the group. When he reached the edge of his cover, he stopped and craned his neck forward, hoping to hear the conversation. The men spoke Mexican Spanish, but in the kidnap and ransom business, Eric had picked up more dialects than he could count.

  “We should go back,” one of the men said. “We’ll never find them out here without dogs.”

  “Shit,” said a second, “we don’t even know there’s anything to find. Some fucking American sets up a fancy lab here because it’s cheaper than it is at home, his competitors take him out, and we’re expected to clean up the mess? What has he ever done for us?”

  “They say the woman stole information. Bigger finder’s fee if we can get the thumb drive, or at least its location, before we turn her over.”

  Information? Thumb drive? That was news.

  “We’re chasing ghosts,” a third chimed in. “She and that fucking thumb drive probably went up in the Bear. We’re out here waiting to be picked off by the assassin. We should head back to base.”

  “We have our orders.” The stocky speaker cut the air with his hand, ending the conversation. “If you wish to return to Velasquez and explain that the weather made you turn back, it is, of course, your choice. For myself, I will stay on the ones who did not fly out until I am told otherwise.”

  Eric wormed his way backward up the trail he’d made, pulling together vines and leaves to hide his passage, though he doubted they’d see it in the increasing darkness. When he got to the tree where Janie hid, he hoisted himself into the branches.