by Vicki Tharp
“We need to get downwind and find a clearing in case a search and rescue is sent in.”
“What about those guys who were shooting at us?”
“It’s a long hike around that ridge to the crash site. I’m hoping they’re too unmotivated to come around and make sure we’re dead. With a smoke plume that size, hopefully, one of the fire watch towers will see it and call it in. But first, we need to wrap that leg. We can’t keep the tourniquet on for too long.”
With a hand, Gil helped her sit. He stripped off his tie and dress shirt and used his pocket knife to cut it into thin strips. A bruise was blooming over his left shoulder, but otherwise, he seemed in good shape for surviving a crash. They were both damn lucky.
He bound the wound tightly, and she tried not to scream like a two-year-old who’d lost her favorite binky. She was mostly successful, but she’d be lying if she didn’t say it hurt like a bitch. That adrenaline dump was no longer dulling her pain. The only thing the adrenaline was doing was making her hands shake, and her teeth rattle.
When he’d finished binding his shirt to her leg with his tie, he said, “Okay, loosen the belt. Slowly.”
Her lower leg was already numb from the tourniquet. She loosened the belt a little at a time. The blood flowed in and the wound pulsed with every rapid beat of her heart. Then came the pins and needles as her nerves started regaining function.
“How’s it look?” Tessa said, almost afraid to look down. It wasn’t that the sight of blood bothered her, it was the thought that if they couldn’t control the bleeding, they would have to reapply the tourniquet that scared her. The likelihood of a rescue anytime soon was slim, and you couldn’t keep a tourniquet on too long without risking permanent damage.
A pregnancy would only keep her out of the sky for a short period of time. If she lost her right leg… she couldn’t even think about that.
“Seems to be holding.” They were close enough to the crash site that ash and embers rained all around them. Gil glanced up at the ridge nearby ridge. “You up for a stroll?”
She followed his gaze. The climb would be steep, and with the number of rocks and the stretch of scree field, damn slippery as well. As much as she wanted to tell him to go without her, it was too dangerous to stay. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Gil stood and gave her a hand up. Gingerly, she added weight to her leg. It hurt. Damn, it hurt. Fortunately, no bones were broken. If they took it slow, she could do it.
It took them about twenty hours to make the ridge. Okay. Maybe that was an exaggeration since if she used the movement of the sun as a guide, it was probably no more than an hour. Her throat was so dry it made a clicking sound every time she swallowed, and her muscles ached like she’d gone on a twenty-klick ruck march, and she didn’t even want to think about her right calf. They weren’t on speaking terms anymore.
Her breathing came fast, and her heart thumped a hard, steady rhythm in her chest. She plopped down on a rock below the top of the ridge.
“Wait here,” Gil said, “I’m going to make sure no one’s coming around on foot.” He wasn’t going to get an argument from her. “You going to be okay here?”
“As long as I don’t have to move from my favorite rock, I’m good. I’ve gotten very attached to him.”
Her forehead was grimy and sweat-stained. It didn’t keep Gil from pressing a kiss there. If she’d had any doubts that his profession of love was real, she didn’t anymore. “Holler if you need me. I’ll check your leg when I get back.”
Gil hid behind a large boulder at the top of the ridge. Down below he had a good view of the crash site and the growing fire. With the mild breeze, it wasn’t spreading as fast as he’d feared it would, considering the dry conditions.
After fifteen to twenty minutes, he relaxed a fraction, having seen no movement down below from the shooters. They had to have known a fire like that would attract first responders, and they’d beat tracks back to whatever rock they’d crawled out from under.
The soreness had already started to settle into his body as he climbed down to Tessa. Every muscle ached from the impact, and his ears rang as if he’d stood next to the speakers at a heavy metal concert all night.
When he got to Tessa, she was laid out on a flat rock, her right leg propped and raised high against another rock. He jumped down beside her, landing harder than he should have, jarring his already battered body.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She had her arm flung over her eyes, and she didn’t bother moving it. “Like my helo crashed and someone pulled a rod out of my leg on the count of one instead of three.” Her voice was thick with accusation, and a smattering of dry humor.
“I figured you knew I would pull on two, so…” He let the rest of his sentence drift off, and he shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thought it might hurt less if—”
“It didn’t.” She dropped her arm and propped herself up on her elbows. “See anybody?”
“No activity. Also, no planes or helos or any other kind of help either. We’re pretty remote. We could be here a while.”
“A least we have a good fire to keep us warm.”
He barked out a laugh and sat down, placing her injured leg over his lap. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
Her smile fell flat before it went anywhere close to her eyes. “Not incredible enough to have figured out Bradley was trying to get rid of us permanently and not temporarily.”
“Hey, hey, now.” Gil made sure the bandage wasn’t too tight. There was some fresh blood on the bandage, though the bleeding was well controlled. “No one saw that coming. I didn’t think he would be bold enough—”
“Or dumb enough—”
“Or dumb enough,” he allowed, “to try that. Martin could feel the noose tightening, he was getting desperate and—”
“What about Jack? Do you think—” Tessa’s voice cracked, and Gil just shook his head because the sudden knot in his throat paralyzed his vocal cords.
Gil swallowed hard. “There’s a big difference between getting us out of the way and hurting Jack. He’s a kid. Martin’s kid. No matter how indifferent he comes across, I agree with what you said, I don’t think he would hurt him. This,” he waved his hand in the general direction of the crash, “doesn’t change that.” At least he hoped like hell it didn’t.
For Tessa’s sake.
For his sake.
For Jack’s.
Another thirty or forty minutes passed before the first spotter plane flew over the fire. Another thirty after that before the first aerial drop of fire retardant. Another hour at least before a rescue helicopter spotted Gil standing on the ridge. A basket was dropped, and they were hoisted up one at a time.
In the air, the team attended to Tessa’s leg and even applied a couple of steri-strips to the cut along Gil’s left eyebrow. Someone came up with an extra T-shirt and offered it to him. When they landed, one of the medics let Gil borrow his cell phone, and he called Spinks.
“You sure you’re both okay?” Spinks asked after Gil had relayed the events of the crash.
“We’ll live.” But right then, Gil was more concerned about Jack than themselves. “Can you put some agents on the house?”
“I’ll do what I can. We’re stretched thin. The shipment went out by truck not train like we’d anticipated. They scattered on the roadways, we’ve already lost sight of two of them. Everyone is scrambling.”
“You gotta get us back there. Send a plane or a helo—”
“I can’t spare the manpower right now. You’ll have to manage on your end.”
“That’s at least a six or seven-hour drive, we don’t—”
“I gotta go, the head of the CIA’s on the line,” Spinks said. “Let me know when you get here.”
Gil reared his arm back, but the medic caught his wrist before he could throw the phone. “Hey, there buddy.”
Gil let the phone get stripped out of his hand. “Sorry.” He was too caught up
in his own problems to sound sincere. He’d lost his wallet along the way. They couldn’t rent a car if they wanted to. “Any chance your crew could get us back to Murdock?”
“Murdock?” The young medic squinted as if trying to place where Murdock was.
“Wyoming,” Tessa said. “Outside Alpine. It’s urgent.”
“I’ll talk to the chief, but no promises.”
Getting back to Murdock was some twisted take on Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. In the end, it took four hours, one search and rescue helo, one single prop plane, and Boomer meeting her and Gil at the Murdock airport with a truck to get close to where they needed to be.
Boomer climbed out of the truck’s cab. Followed by Hank, who was on the phone trying to placate Mac, unsuccessfully. Tessa could hear Mac cussing over the phone. From what Boomer said, Hank had practically had to tie Mac to a tree to keep her from coming along.
At the far end of the runway, one of the hanger doors opened, and a six-seater commuter plane appeared.
“We’re here,” Hank said into the phone. “I don’t like it any more than you. If it wasn’t for the kid, there’s no one I’d rather have here with me.” He was quiet for a minute as Mac spoke. Though Tessa couldn’t make out the words, Mac must have calmed down considerably because Tessa couldn’t hear her anymore. “Will do. We gotta go, Army. I’ll keep you updated.”
Army. Even though Mac was a Marine through and through, Sidney had once told Tessa how Hank’s term of endearment had stuck. He pocketed the phone and pulled Tessa in for a quick hug and held his hand out to Gil.
“What do you need us to do.” Boomer was decked out in jeans and boots, but she didn’t miss the holstered Glock at his side. Hank had come similarly armed as well.
“Please tell me you’ve got a couple of spares.” Gil pointed to the guns.
“We’re going to have to make do with these for side arms,” Boomer said, “Though Hank’s got a .30-06, hanging in the truck.”
“What’s the plan?” This from Hank.
“Bradley has been keeping Jack locked in his room. With the shipment going out today, I’m hoping he left him there to keep him out of the way,” Tessa said.
“Most of his men will likely be with the shipment,” Gil said. “There should be minimal security at the house. But I don’t want to tip our hand by driving right up. There’s an old ranch road on the west side of the property. We can get within about a mile of the house and we’ll have to hike in from there.”
Boomer turned to Tessa. “Your leg up for that.”
She appreciated that he didn’t try to talk her out of going. It would be wasted breath anyway. She felt every heartbeat in her leg. Every step felt like some psycho was jabbing a stake through the muscle and enjoying every second of it. The thought of walking again made her wince with pain. “Not a problem.”
“Look, if you need—” Tessa leveled a hard stare that shut Hank up.
“What I need is my son.”
“Roger that,” Boomer said.
They piled back into the truck. Gil grabbed the Remington 700 from the rifle rack above the rear seats and made sure it was loaded and a round was chambered. They peeled out of the airport and Boomer stomped on the gas as they raced toward Bradley’s mansion.
“Have you called your ex?” Hank asked as they cleared the airport property.
“He thinks we’re dead,” Tessa said. “I think that gives us an advantage.”
Boomer said, “Unless Jack’s not at the house.”
“According to Spinks, no one has come or gone from the house since we told him about Jack and they put a guy on surveillance.”
“But how much time had elapsed since you left this morning to the time Spinks had a man on location?”
Tessa thought about it. Before she could say anything, Gil said, “Too long.” His voice was grim, and Tessa’s heart tumbled. There was a good chance Jack wasn’t even at the house anymore.
Hank reached into his pocket and handed Tessa his phone. “Try calling him. Knowing you guys were onto him, Martin would have to be a special kind of idiot to stay at the house once the shipment has gone out.”
Tessa took the phone and punched in Bradley’s number. Her finger hovered over the green call button, then she pressed it. The phone picked up on the fourth ring.”
“Martin.” Clip and short, Bradley sounded all business. With her using Hank’s phone, he wouldn’t have recognized the number.
In the background, she heard Jack’s voice. Tessa swallowed hard and held a hand over her sternum to keep her heart from kicking through her chest. She couldn’t make out what her son was saying, but at least he didn’t sound distressed. More importantly, he was alive.
“Hello?” Bradley said.
The first thing to tumble out of her mouth was, “You tried to have me killed.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. She might have heard a soft gasp, but that might have been wishful thinking on her part.
“You always were resourceful,” Bradley said, “I’ll give you that.”
The unmistakable chug of a propeller engine spooling up came over the line. “Where are you?”
Then the engine noise got muffled, and Bradley said, “Sit down and buckle up.” He wasn’t talking to her.
She glanced behind them at the airport. It wasn’t the closest airfield to Bradley’s house, that had been the one she and Gil had flown out of, but this one wasn’t that much farther.
She leaned forward and tapped Boomer’s shoulder and made a turn-around motion with her index finger and pointed back at the airport.
Boomer stomped on the brakes and pulled a U-ey. The right side of her head bumped the window, and her brain sloshed around in her skull. She tried hard to ignore the wave of nausea and the stars that danced in her peripheral vision.
If Bradley wasn’t at the Murdock airport, they wouldn’t be too far behind schedule, but if she was right…
In her calmest, most reasonable voice she said, “Whatever you’re doing you need to stop. You need to turn yourself in.”
Never in her wildest dreams did she think Bradley would give up. He wasn’t that kind of man. That type of man didn’t become a success in his field the way Bradley had even if that field was illegal. The climb to the top must be grueling and brutal. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.”
Bradley laughed on the other end. It sounded genuine. “I see you’ve been polishing up that halo. You would have been a great asset, but your father was right to have kept you out of the family business. You don’t have the heart for it.”
Wait. What? “What are you talking about?” Her words came out so soft, she repeated herself to make sure she was heard.
“Nothing. It’s time for me to go. Seeing you again was good.”
No. No. No, no, no. Tessa had to keep Bradley on the line.
Boomer made a sharp left turn and somehow managed to keep all four wheels of the trucks on the ground, though the tires slid and there was probably a long skid mark on the asphalt behind them. He accelerated for one of the utility gates, a chain held the two sides together.
“Hang on.” Gil braced his arms on the seat in front of him. Tessa did the same. They busted through the gate, aluminum poles and chain link went flying.
Maybe if she appealed to Bradley’s practical side. “Look, I don’t care what you’ve done, or where you go, just leave Jack. He’s only going to slow you down.”
Tessa’s mind raced. What else could she say that would make Bradley change his mind?
“There.” Hank pointed to a single prop plane that had turned and lined up on the runway.
“Is that you sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice was calm. Too calm. “Valiant try, but you’re too late.”
Between the roar of blood behind her eardrums and the whine of the plane’s engines revving up and filtering over the line, Tessa almost couldn’t hear Bradley.
With Boomer already racing for the runway, Tessa pointed at the plane. All
she could manage was a strangled, “It’s him. Hurry.”
The wheels of the plane started rolling, and Boomer gunned the gas. The truck accelerated, throwing Tessa back against the seat. They bounced in the seats as Boomer cut through the grass between runways on an intercept course with the plane. Then Boomer sped the truck ahead of the plane and slid to a stop mid-runway.
The plane was a four-seater. It didn’t need that much runway. By the way the aircraft was barreling down on them, it was either going to barely clear them, or run right through them, the propellers slicing and dicing as they went.
“Bradley, Bradley, stop. This is insane, this—”
“He’s slowing,” Hank said.
The plane’s brakes kicked in, the tires locked and skidded. The stench of smoke and burning rubber filled the air.
“He can’t stop in time,” Gil said.
Boomer slammed the truck into drive, but at the last second, the pilot turned. The plane bounced through the grass and came to rest parallel to the perimeter fence, the edge of its left wing brushing the chain link.
The four of them scrambled out of the truck and ran over to the plane. With Hank’s phone, Tessa tried calling Spinks, but when she couldn’t get through, she hung up and dialed 911.
Boomer, Hank, and Gil spread out, their guns pointed at the plane. Boomer gestured at the pilot, with a cutting motion across his throat and the pilot cut the engine. The noise died as well as the hot blast from the prop wash.
Tessa identified herself and gave her location to the 911 operator. The plane’s passenger door opened. Jack stood in the entrance, Bradley hunched down behind him, one hand on Jack’s shoulder the other holding a gun.
With Bradley using Jack as a shield, Hank and Boomer lowered their weapons. With the rifle, Gil shifted, for a better angle, Tessa assumed. He knelt and took careful aim at Bradley.
The thought of her son being at the other end of a rifle should have terrified her, but when the man with his finger on the trigger was Gil, all she had was faith. Pure and blind. There was nothing else.