by Steve Hadden
David hoped Joe was now racing to the meeting point early, covering the twenty two miles from Newport Beach to Catalina in less than forty minutes. The math was simple; forty minutes until Joe could pick them off the island, but they’d be there in ten minutes. They’d be exposed and on their own for half an hour until Joe arrived. David knew that meant a confrontation, and the most committed would prevail. He dug deep and harnessed his anger. He wasn’t just fighting for his life, he was fighting for the lives of Tori, Amy, and every child, mother, and father CGT could save.
He stole another look over his shoulder.
“Shit!”
Tori spun and looked at David.
“They’re coming,” he said, nodding toward the light bobbing on the water behind him.
Tori leaned to look around David. Without a word, she returned her attention to lighting the water ahead. David willed the Zodiac to speed up. Checking over his shoulder in thirty second intervals, he watched the approaching light cut the distance between them in half as they turned towards the beach at White’s Landing. David cut the Zodiacs engine and it slid onto the beach. He could hear the deep-throated roar of the approaching speed boat. Tori jumped up, and David grabbed the black pack stuffed behind her. They sprinted across the beach, and into the tree line. David looked back to the Zodiac. It was illuminated by the light from the approaching boat.
Damn, they’re close!
The area was deserted; the storm and cold weather had kept the campers away.
“Kill the light,” David said.
He took Tori’s hand and began to ascend up the steep slopes. The island scrub oaks and coastal sage thickened as they climbed. With one of the steepest slopes on Catalina, they’d climb nearly two thousand feet in elevation in less than a mile. While the heavier vegetation and the darkness provided cover, it also made it difficult to see. Reaching into the darkness, David cleared the invisible maze of branches and sage with one hand, while he gripped Tori’s hand and led her up the mountain with the other. The tug of her hand grew heavier, and David’s legs grew fatigued. His breath was labored. He could hear Tori gasping too. They couldn’t keep this pace.
David stopped, and both Tori and he bent over and propped themselves up, hands on knees, and tried to catch their breath. David felt a crushing pain deep in his chest. Looking down the steep slope, he spotted a light bouncing rapidly towards them. He raised his hand and touched Tori on the shoulder, and then he pointed down the hill into the darkness. He could hear them now; the branches snapped and the dried brush crackled under their feet. They were running. They were in much better shape.
“We can’t outrun them,” he said, huffing and puffing.
“What then?”
“We split up here.”
“No, David. I won’t leave you.”
David grabbed Tori by the shoulders and their eyes met.
“Yes, you will. There’s no time,” David insisted. “You’ve got to get to Joe. Head to the right; go about a hundred yards and hide and wait for them to pass. I’ll lead them up the hill and away from you.”
“No!”
“Yes!” David shook Tori. “You hear that?” He pointed to the light still flickering through the darkness and closing fast. “They’re coming. They’ll catch us and kill us. We have no chance together. It’s better if we split up. Promise me you’ll get to Joe. I’ll ditch these guys and meet you there. But if I don’t show by eleven-fifteen, Joe will know what to do.”
“But … David.”
He heard the terror in her whisper. Leaving her now would be the hardest thing he had ever done. But he had to. It was her only chance to live.
“Go! Now!” David pushed Tori away. She lunged back and hugged him.
“I love you, David.” She released him and disappeared into the dark brush.
The words rocked David for a moment.
“I love you too,” he whispered to himself.
Run, he said to himself; lead them away from Tori. He clutched his chest and stumbled into the darkness. The pain was crushing, but a bullet would hurt much worse. David knew they were less than two hundred yards away; their footsteps were rapid and heading directly for him. He could hear their breathing, and he was sure they could hear his now. He could not outrun them. He knew there were at least two well-trained assassins. Once they had him, he’d be no match for their strength and deadly training. They’d overtake him soon. He hoped they would be efficient and end his life quickly. His death would at least have a purpose now—and maybe the flames of hell wouldn’t feel so hot. He prayed for the third time in a week. He prayed for forgiveness, and if not forgiveness, an idea.
CHAPTER 51
Tori shivered silently. She clung to the trunk of a scrub oak, and the rough bark dug into her palms. David’s footsteps faded, but now the crackling footsteps racing up the mountainside grew louder and sounded like explosions. She closed her eyes as she used to as a child playing hide and seek: Maybe if she couldn’t see them, they wouldn’t spot her.
She held her breath.
Don’t stop. Keep going.
But the footsteps stopped. No noise; their breathing had stopped. They were listening. Tori felt her skin crawl. She should feel their gazes sweeping the forest and knew the despair of hopelessness. She didn’t want to die at twenty-eight, but she didn’t want the first man she’d ever loved to die either.
She gripped the tree tighter, and the bark popped softly. The sound stabbed through her heart. Did they hear that? A twig snapped. It was closer than where the men had stopped. Were they coming? Had they spotted evidence of her trail? She was paralyzed. She couldn’t open her eyes, let alone run. She waited. The hair on her neck bristled. They were so close. Could they be standing next to her, just waiting for her to open her eyes? Would she feel anything? Her eyes sprung open at the sound of footsteps exploding in the brush up the hill, and she saw two silhouettes disappear into the night. The footsteps faded. She remained where she was for another minute. They wouldn’t hear her departure now.
She had made many bike trips to this side of the island. She knew nearly ninety percent of Catalina Island was under the control of the Santa Catalina Island Conservancy. With its mission to preserve the island’s natural beauty for posterity, most of the windward side of the island remained pristine, with no permanent development. While this ensured limited human occupation, it also ensured that anyone huddled on a seaside mountain face around eleven on a Friday night was very much alone and exposed to whatever lurked in the darkness.
Quietly, she picked her way down the hillsides and retraced their path of ascent. She paused at the tree line and scanned the beach. A speed boat beached next to the Zodiac was unattended. She scanned the shoreline from right to left. Nothing but darkness as far as her eyes could see. Then, she saw movement to the left. Her eyes strained, and she spotted the sleek silhouette of an offshore power boat. Her heart leapt. Joe, she thought. She maneuvered along the tree line, parallel to the beach until directly in front of the craft. She heard the idling engine. After a quick glance to either side, she raced across the open beach into the knee-deep water.
“Joe. It’s me Joe!”
Joe extended his arm and hauled her into the boat. Tori hugged him.
“Where’s David?” he demanded.
“He’s still up there. There are two men chasing him. He told me to find you, Joe. He said you’d know what to do. We’ve got to save him, Joe. How? What should we do?”
Joe looked away, not answering.
“What, Joe? Why don’t you do something! Tell me what he told you!”
Joe spoke slowly, as though it was hard to get the words out. “He made me promise that if he had to sacrifice himself for you, I’d get you out of here … out of this mess.” Joe checked his watch and then gazed at the ominous dark outline of the seaside mountains.
“No, no! They’ll kill him! Can’t you go after them …”
“My job is to save your life, not his. Boss’s orders.” His v
oice was grim. “We’re out of here.”
Tori shook her head. “No.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Wait, Joe! Wait. David said if he wasn’t here at eleven-fifteen, we had to leave without him,” Tori remembered. “That means he’ll try to meet us here.”
Joe looked skeptical. “He really said that?”
“I swear it. Eleven-fifteen.”
“If he doesn’t make it …” Joe warned.
“I know.”
He checked his watch again. “Ten minutes, then.”
Tori strained her eyes through the dark. Come on, David! Come on! She imagined him still racing up the mountain, through the thick underbrush, wounded and exhausted. . And alone. The assassins were getting close by now; maybe they’d even caught him. Would she hear the single shot ring out ending his life or would David die silently, alone and afraid in the cold? Had he heard her last words to him? Would he die knowing she loved him?
She refused to cry. Not yet.
“Don’t give up, Ms. Clarke. Never give up.” Joe said, a cold stony expression on his face. “Mr. Wellington is smart. He told us to wait because he thought he had a chance. Otherwise he would have told us to take off as soon as you got here.”
Tori joined Joe at the stern. They stared at the tree line. They didn’t speak, just listened. Tori knew Joe listened for any sign of the attackers as well as David. She knew he had a deadly side. He may have even trained at the same time with the men trying to kill her. But he was loyal; a man of his word. He’d already risked his life for David, and if David asked him to whisk her away to safety, he’d do it, no questions asked.
Joe checked his watch again.
“Two minutes.”
Tori felt a weight she’d never felt before. She’d never felt such love for a man; she wanted to spend the rest of her life with David, but now he’d be taken from her. God, please help him, she thought, as she implored a higher power. Joe began to move around the open cockpit preparing to leave. Slowly he pulled on the anchor rope; hand over hand, still staring at the tree line. With the anchor in hand, he made a final check of his watch.
“It’s time.”
Tori buried her face in Joe’s shoulder and wept uncontrollably. After gently guiding her to the seat next to the helm, he pressed forward on the throttle and boat began to pull away from the beach.
Tori wiped her tears away to take one last look at the island where her lover had died. It would be a place she would never forget.
Then she saw the miracle. A lone figure racing along the tree-line toward them.
“Joe, look!” Tori couldn’t believe her eyes.
Joe looked up sharply. Immediately, he reversed the engine and backed towards the beach. He reached under his coat and cocked the 9MM Glock in his hand.
“Ms. Clarke, take the helm and when I say go, push the throttle all the way forward and head straight out to sea.”
Tori nodded and took her position at the helm. The massive twin engines idled in neutral fifteen feet from shore. Joe leaned his elbows on the stern and targeted the figure, while it followed the same path Tori had taken. Now directly in front of the boat, the figure paused in a crouch. Tori heard the click of the safety being released by Joe. The figure sprung from the darkness and charged the boat. Joe braced to fire. Tori waited for his order. Either David had made it, or, more likely, a third man had found them. But she knew they had to be sure. Knowing the odds were against it being David, Tori grabbed the throttle.
Tori flinched, surprised by the sound of Joe releasing the hammer. She heard the splashes of footsteps in the water and turned. Joe extended his arm and David appeared from the darkness. His face bloodied and his jacket torn, he hit the deck with a thud. Joe’s and Tori’s stares fixed on him as he rolled over and looked at them.
He was smiling. He focused on Joe.
“Semper Fi, assholes.”
Joe chuckled and pointed at the helm.
“Go, Miss Clarke. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER 52
Butch Donovan paced like a caged tiger. He never tolerated failure and wasn’t about to start now. Stopping at each station, he barked orders, cursed and scowled as the identically dressed men at the terminals reported his teams’ movements and avoided eye contact at all costs. They were well aware of the fact that Donovan had the same look in his eyes he’d had before he executed their fellow team member at Rexsen Labs for his dereliction of duty. He snapped his wrist in front of his face and checked the time. It was nearly midnight. Team one had failed at the catamaran. They’d extricated themselves from below decks and reported their failure over an hour ago. The power boat manned by the second team had tracked the Zodiac northwest to White’s Landing, along the rugged windward coast. On foot, Wellington and Clarke should have been overtaken by now. He knew the kills should have been reported thirty minutes ago, but still no word. He’d resisted acknowledging what his experience told him was a certainty. They’d failed—again.
“Anything?” Donovan barked.
“No sir. Team two has gone black,” Red replied.
Donovan crushed the Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand.
“Shit. Call it off. They failed. Alert the rest of the team.”
“Yes sir.”
Donovan knew they couldn’t cover the entire coastline of Catalina. With his team down to eight, they could barely cover the harbors at Avalon, Dana Point, San Pedro, and Newport Beach. Wellington had gotten help again and Donovan and his men failed to deliver a second time. The client would not be happy. Hell, he wasn’t happy. He’d never failed on a mission, legitimate or otherwise. Failure was never an option, and it wasn’t an option now.
Standing at attention, as if preparing to give a report to his superior officer, he snapped up the black phone from the table and put it to his ear.
“It’s me. We missed them.”
“Again?” the synthesized voice asked.
“It’s only temporary, I assure you,” Donovan said with deadly confidence. “I’ll deal with them myself.”
“Your failures have caused another problem.”
“The one we discussed earlier?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do that one for free.”
“We’re running out of time. They need to be dealt with within twenty-four hours or no deal.”
“I know where they’re headed. I’ll have it done in twelve.”
He pressed a button to end the call and tossed the phone on the table.
“You know where they are, sir?” Red asked.
Donovan shook his head. “I’ve got a hunch.”
He grabbed his black leather jacket and marched to a steel door along the back wall, nearly beating the man dressed in black fumbling to produce a key. Donovan nodded, the door was opened and Donovan stepped into the makeshift armory. He ran his hand along the neatly displayed assault rifles, shotguns, semi-automatic handguns, ammunition, Kevlar vest, laser sights and silencers racked on the walls and stacked neatly in bins. He plucked an MK 23 from the wall. He stuffed several clips of ammo into his jacket pocket, then slammed the door. All eyes were on him as he stomped through the command center and left without saying a word. He didn’t have to. Everyone in the room knew that when Butch Donovan had a hunch, someone always died.
CHAPTER 53
David Wellington watched the first light of the day seep over the hills to the east and invade the thick coastal fog that hugged the seaside cliffs of Laguna Beach. Parked on the boulevard, he rubbed his tired eyes and refocused on the outline of the security gates that barred entry to Royce Brayton’s exclusive neighborhood. Looking at his quivering hand, he knew his nerves were frayed. His entire body ached as well, and he hadn’t slept much in a week. Still, his drive and resolve remained high. He’d get him, if it was the last thing he did.
He was certain Brayton was behind the plane crash that had taken the life his friend and mentor, Adam Rexsen. He’d killed an innocent father of four, Jeff R
eese, in the process. He had Prescott Rexsen killed in order to frame David and Tori. And with the cover-up of the problems with CGT, he’d be responsible for the death of a ten-year-old girl and thousands like her. And if Brayton prevailed, he’d ultimately be responsible for David’s death and the death of the only woman he’d ever loved. Yes, Royce Brayton would pay now, David promised himself.
He watched Tori while she slept in the passenger’s seat of the white Explorer. Despite David’s protest, she’d jumped into the front seat when he’d left Dana Point Harbor two hours earlier. The contours of her face were barely visible and looked delicate and frail. David gripped the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white at the thought of Tori’s innocence; she’d done nothing to Brayton. She’d discovered the genetic imperfection in CGT and had identified a solution. She would save millions of lives with her discovery and for that Brayton wanted her dead. David reached into his pocket and rubbed the cold steel of the 9MM pistol.
He turned away from Tori and peered through the driver’s window to his left. A faint yellow glow began to grow in the gray mist. As it grew, the shadow of the vertical iron bars came into focus. Two headlights finally pierced through the fog and the gates creaked open. David started the car and yanked the wheel to the left, jolting Tori from her nap. The newspaper carrier pulled through and turned right, and David slipped the Explorer through the closing gates. Without the aid of headlights, David crept the car through the fog. He knew the way. While he’d always viewed Brayton as an ass, he’d made the obligatory appearances at dinner parties for customers, bankers, and suppliers at Brayton’s house.
He pulled to the shoulder about thirty yards from Brayton’s driveway. The gravel crunched beneath the tires and the SUV rolled to a gentle stop. Shielded by the thick landscape and the heavy fog, they moved into position undetected. David opened his window and listened. The only sound came from the rhythmic sloshes of the waves muffled by the cliffs and the heavy fog of the marine layer blanketing the coastline.
