That Way Lies Madness: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 8)

by Scott Cook

  Despite all of that, her child like accusation sliced deep into his heart. The way she sounded almost pleading and knowing what had happened to her cut right to the core of his being. Perhaps it was irrational, but for a man like Jarvis, it was just the right kind of strike.

  He reached out and took her hand, “Sam… I’m so sorry…”

  She jerked her hand away and folded her arms across her chest, “Sorry doesn’t change it.”

  “Wow, that’s so fucked up…” Jackie muttered as she concentrated on the trail.

  Scott simply looked forward and his face hardened into a tight mask. The Marine sniper, who had always been a tomboy and a bit rough around the edges glanced over and felt a pang of tender concern for him.

  She had admired him for some time now. His stories that were both humorous and engaging as well as tense and heroic. The more detailed information in his service record book had kept her company on many an evening after she’d learned that the Colonel wanted to recruit him. She liked him and now that they’d finally met, she felt a connection to this larger than life figure.

  Now, with the betrayal of his friend and the obvious instability of the wife, who she realized Scott must have known just as long, was taking its toll on him. The hard mask he wore was only a cover for the heartbreak he must be feeling at the moment. Jackie reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed. It was all she could really do, and from the wisp of a smile that crossed his handsome features, she knew it was appreciated.

  “We have visual! Say again, we have Buzzard in view!”

  It was the Colonel. Jarvis’s eyes lit up and he nodded slightly, “What is she, Colonel?”

  A pause, “Christ… I’d have to classify it as Frankenstein’s monster… looks like an old DC3 or C47 with floats mounted below the wings where the two engines used to be… wings mounted off the dorsal hull, not below… also a fuselage mounted float beneath. Two turboprops mounted high up and aft on either side of the vertical stabilizer… Crazy but probably long range and can haul some cargo. She’s doing three hundred knots… or was. Slowing for descent now.”

  “Shit…” Scott muttered. “How far out are we?”

  “You’re within two miles,” Grayson reported

  “Four minutes,” Stevvins said.

  “Recommend the last couple of hundred yards on foot,” Grayson stated.

  “Two and Three on foot,” Scott said. “One, Four and passenger will drive in.”

  There was a long pause, “That puts you in direct line of fire, One.”

  Scott sighed, “Also puts us face to face with target. Betting he won’t open up on his own wife.”

  “How will he know?” Grayson asked.

  Scott sighed, “I’ll call him.”

  Chapter 29

  Scott’s and Lisa’s story, part 2

  “Good morning, Scotty,”

  The sound of Bill’s voice was really starting to irritate Scott. He actually had to keep reminding himself that this was the same man he’d known since he was a kid. Every time he spoke now, there was an undertone… and sometimes not very far under… of smarminess, arrogance and evil. There was just no other way to think of it.

  “I’m giving you a chance to surrender, Bill,” Jarvis said coldly. “Release your hostages and surrender.”

  That laugh again. That laugh that had been the final puzzle piece, “Surrender to who, Scott? And why the hell would I?”

  “To me, and because if there is any of the Bill I knew left inside you, then it’s the right thing to do. And if that’s not enough… because if you don’t, then it’s Sam who’s going to suffer for your crimes.”

  There was a long pause. In the interim, Grayson spoke into Scott’s ear.

  “The plane is landing in the river now… you’re less than half a mile out.”

  “Sam has done nothing,” Bill said calmly, although Scott thought he detected worry in his voice.

  “Bill… she knew about you. I can prove it… I’ll be there shortly. Do not get on that plane. Do not harm Lisa or Cynthia.”

  “How did you find me so quickly?” Bill asked, sounding more curious than anything. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Was it the young lady’s shoes by chance? Doesn’t matter now. I look forward to seeing you.”

  He hung up. Scott sighed and slid his phone back into his pocket, “Whatever happens tonight, Shade can’t be allowed to escape. Is that clear?”

  Wayne laughed sardonically, “Don’t worry… he won’t.”

  Stevvins nodded tersely.

  “What are you going to do?” Sam asked.

  “Whatever I have to in order to get those women back safely,” Scott said, turning to face her.

  “A hundred yards,” Grayson said.

  “Stop, Sarg,” Scott ordered.

  Stevvins came to a halt. She and Wayne got out and Jarvis slid over into the driver’s seat.

  “Where do you want us?” Wayne asked.

  “Two, I want you to find a good spot for a long range shot,” Scott said. “Three, you work in as close as you can with cover. I’ll give you five minutes.”

  They nodded and vanished into the night. The Rover was just on the edge of a large pine grove with a trail slashed through the trees and the thick press of sable and cabbage palms as well as the saw palmetto. As Wayne and the Sergeant worked along the trail, they found spaces between the lower vegetation to get off the path and use the foliage as cover. Scott waited for several minutes and then moved forward.

  The amphibious airplane that came in low over the treetops and settled into the water as it landed was like nothing Lisa had ever seen. Not that she considered herself an authority on aircraft by any means, yet this thing just seemed odd to her.

  It had wings that came off the top of the fuselage. Where an engine looked like it should be on each wing was a reinforced band that supported a set of vertical struts that themselves supported a long pontoon. Two sleek propeller units were mounted on struts a little forward and to either side of the tall rudder assembly.

  Perhaps the oddest thing, though, was that along the entire bottom of the plane’s tubular hull was what looked vaguely like a canoe. At least until the plane was almost touching the water. Then this somewhat pontoon-shaped structure inflated and became wider and flatter, more like a raft. The airbag, for that’s what it must be, was now twice the width of the hull but only about four feet deep.

  “It’s a goddamned hovercraft…” Cynthia breathed.

  Lisa had to agree that was just what it looked like. The air cushion supported the plane as it settled into the water and the two outer pontoons seemed to act as stabilizers. The craft quickly decelerated and slowly idled close to where Bill had made his fire. The plane actually came halfway out of the water, its portside pontoon resting in the clearing and the air skirt only partially touching the river.

  The twin engines shut down and somebody opened a wide cargo door just behind the port wing. A man jumped down to the ground, a leap of about three feet, and pulled a long folded ramp out from a compartment just under the door. This he unfolded and set on the ground, creating a twenty foot long ramp that led into the plane.

  “Let’s go, girls,” Bill said, coming over and opening the passenger door. “Please bring your boarding passes.”

  “We’re not getting on that plane,” Lisa stated.

  “Oh, no?” He asked. “I’m sorry… I was under the impression you wanted to live. I guess that’s what you get for assuming…”

  Bill held his pistol out and pressed it to her breasts. Lisa only glared at him.

  “The choice is simple,” Bill explained. “You either come cooperatively or I shoot you both now. Your choice.”

  “Why, so you can shoot us later?” Cynthia asked in disgust.

  “I need insurance,” Bill said. “You, Cynthia, are here to make sure I actually get the money. Lisa is here, as if this wasn’t obvious, to keep her boyfriend from doing something stupid. You both ensure that nobody tries anything once
we take off. So what’s it gonna be, ladies?”

  “You’re going to pay for this, Bill,” Lisa growled. “Let’s go, Cynthia.”

  Bill lowered his pistol and helped the two women down from the high truck. The three of them walked toward the ramp, Lisa’s socks instantly becoming filthy and damp. Halfway to the plane, she bent down and yanked them off contemptuously.

  “Now that’s what I call a cargo,” The man at the base of the ramp said with a leer. “Damn, son.”

  “When I deliver, I deliver,” Bill said.

  “Shit, thought we was just getting’ a fee,” The man, who was in fact the plane’s co-pilot and the pilot’s business partner, observed gleefully. “Now we’re gonna have some real fun.”

  “Later,” Bill said.

  “You bout ready to lift off?” The pilot asked, coming to stand in the cargo door.

  Both men were about the same build. Rugged and a little overweight. The pilot was a few inches over six feet as opposed to the co-pilot who was about Bill’s height. Both men wore their long hair in a ponytail and sported close-cropped beards.

  “Not quite yet,” Bill said. “I’m expecting another guest.”

  “Them?” The pilot said, pointing to the trail that had been County Road 751.

  A Land Rover emerged from the trees and came to a stop twenty feet from the big truck and fifty feet from the airplane. The pilot ducked back inside and the co-pilot ushered the two women up the ramp.

  All the time they’d been in the truck, Lisa had been working on her taped wrists. She had managed to find the end of the tape and used her teeth to peel it up. Cynthia had left hers alone, opting to wait until Lisa’s hands were free. Lisa’s wrists now were only held by a single wrap. As they were led into the plane and pushed into two small bucket seats along the starboard side, she braced herself to act. The co-pilot gave her a considering look, smiled and pulled an M16 from a locker just behind the flight deck.

  “This is my insurance policy, honey,” He said, charging the weapon and then moving back outside.

  “Yeah,” Lisa whispered as she removed the rest of her tape. ‘And this is mine…”

  “Frankenstein is right,” Amanda muttered as they examined the odd aircraft before them.

  Scott exited the vehicle and stood by the hood. Near the bottom of the plane’s ramp stood two men. Both were about the same height, although the bearded one wasn’t quite as robust as the other.

  “Where are they, Bill?” Scott called over.

  “Safe,” The man once known only as Shade replied. “How’s Sam?”

  “She’s with me,” Scott replied. “Bill… this has to end now.”

  Bill laughed, “It has to do no such thing, old buddy. I’ve got twenty big ones waiting for me. My wife and I are going to leave this shithole of a country behind and find a quiet place to live in peace.”

  “You think it’s that easy, huh?” Scott asked. “You commit a bagful of crimes and you just fly off to a tropical rum bar? It’s not going to happen, Bill. Give yourself up and release the hostages now. This is the only chance you get.”

  “Oh, listen to you, Scott! Playing the big man as usual,” Bill mocked. “Mr. Superhero himself. Well, let me tell you something, pal, I make the rules here. You don’t order me to do anything.”

  “Fine, Bill,” Scott said. “Then you decide. What’s it gonna be? Do we stop this madness now or do more people get hurt?”

  “Let Sam go,” Bill snapped.

  “Fuck you,” Scott retorted.

  A tense silence fell. Even as the co-pilot brought his assault rifle to his shoulder, Amanda stepped out of the Rover and leveled hers at the man. Scott and Bill both held pistols, but neither one was pointed at the other.

  “I’ll make you a deal, Scott,” Bill said. “For old times’ sake. You let Sam go and I’ll release one of my hostages. Fair is fair. I’ll even be kind and not ask you to choose. Deal or no deal?”

  “You release both of them and you and Sam can fly away,” Scott said. “I won’t even try to stop you.”

  Bill laughed, “That wasn’t what I offered. My offer stands and it’s the only one you get. Yes or no?”

  Scott’s teeth ground together. It wasn’t a good deal, but for the moment anyway, it was the only one he could make. It would delay this a little longer until hopefully Grayson could call in more assets to overwhelm Bill and his friends without the need to resort to violence.

  “Deal,” Scott growled.

  Bill smiled and ran up the ramp. Scott turned to the SUV and opened the driver’s side rear door for Sam, “come on, Sam. I’m letting you go with Bill.”

  Samantha stepped out and her face seemed to waver between satisfaction and sadness. It was odd to see and Scott felt more than a little disconcerted.

  “Why?” She asked in bewilderment.

  “Because if I don’t, then he hurts another innocent,” Scott said softly.

  Sam scoffed, “Innocent? Nobody is innocent.”

  “Nobody?” He asked her, turning and looking directly into her eyes. “Not even a woman who was abused beyond her breaking point?”

  Tears filled her eyes and yet they seemed to lock onto his with a clarity he hadn’t seen since before she’d melted down at his parent’s home.

  “Scott… what they did to me…” She began in a hitching, halting tone. “They… they took turns with me. They beat me and then forced me… humiliated me… over and over…”

  “I’m so sorry,” he empathized. “It was inhuman.”

  “Why weren’t you there?” She all but whispered. “Why couldn’t you have saved me from it?”

  The pain that accompanied those words once again set up an aching in his heart. Scott sighed, “Sam, I couldn’t have known. I didn’t know what was going on before or after. How could I? Besides… you had Bill.”

  She laughed sardonically and it was not the laugh of the sane, “Bill? The man responsible for creating the situation in the first place? He didn’t stop it, Scott. But you… I know you could’ve.”

  “No, Sammy,” he said softly. “It was terrible but nobody—“

  “You could’ve,” She insisted. “You see things others don’t. Bill should’ve known, but he was too concerned with himself.”

  “Do you want to stay with me, then?” He asked.

  Again her face wavered. It was like watching two or more separate people vying for control. Which was, probably, what he was seeing. Her dissociative disorder was worse than he’d thought.

  “Why? So you can use me against Billy?” She sneered. “Go to hell.”

  With that, she ran across the open ground just as Cynthia Bartlett stepped off the ramp and was given a shove by the co-pilot.

  “Come on, Cynthia,” Scott said. “Two, can you take out any of the three tangos? The co-pilot and Bill should be easy.”

  “Negative,” Stevvins replied. “The women are in the way.”

  “One, Three,” Wayne chimed in. “I don’t have a good shot either. Might be able to hit the bearded dude, though.”

  Scott cursed, “Two, what about the pilot inside the plane?”

  Again a negative. They hadn’t had time to work into good positions. Between the underbrush and the hurried situation itself, the good guys were at a disadvantage.

  Even as Stevvvins made her report, Bill and the co-pilot bolted up the ramp and into the safety of the plane’s interior along with Sam. The co-pilot appeared again, bent down and released a couple of clamps and the ramp fell away. He then rocked back on his heels, trained his weapon on the Land Rover and opened up on full auto.

  Scott had grabbed Cynthia and dived to the dirt. Amanda had followed his lead just before the co-pilot opened fire. Although most of the man’s rounds went high, half the magazine’s compliment of 5.56 rounds found their way into the engine block.

  From somewhere off to the left, a sharp crack echoed across the open landscape. The co-pilot flew sideways, a fountain of crimson mist erupting from the right side of his
head. The body struck the jam of the open cargo door and pitched out and down, bouncing off the skirt and landing face first in the moist dirt below.

  “Fuck!” Scott roared. “Amanda, you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” She reported, jumping to her feet and aiming her weapon at the plane. She held fire, though. If her rounds could penetrate the fuselage, she could hit Lisa or Sam.

  Scott pulled Cynthia back to her feet and helped her to rearrange her dress, “you all right?”

  Cynthia was breathing heavily but she managed a smile, “Finally manage to get a throw out of you! yeah… I’m okay… but what about Lisa?”

  The twin turbo props roared to life and the plane began to move, slowly rotating to face back the way they’d come.

  “Unidentified aircraft, unidentified aircraft!” Grayson’s voice came in over the earwigs. “Do not attempt to take off. If you attempt to leave the area, you will be fired upon. Come to a stop and shut down your engines now!”

  Grayson had altered the team’s comm freqs to match those he was using to communicate with the bandit plane. A moment later, a Texan chuckled.

  “Nothin’ doin’, good buddy,” The pilot replied. “This here plane is headed home. I got two hostages on board that’ll crash and burn too if you’re stupid enough to try and shoot me down. I suggest you back off and don’t interfere. If you do, I’ll toss one of these women plum out once we’re in the air. You read me?”

  “Shit… shit, shit!” Scott exclaimed and then took off running.

  He heard but didn’t really attend to the short conversation that followed. He knew that Bill and his friend had them all over a barrel. There was nothing they could do. No threat, no action, could be used when innocent lives were on the line. At least not officially. He had one chance to change that and it was not only a long shot, it could be extremely dangerous.

  Even as he leapt up into the cab of the big swamp buggy truck, the plan that was forming in Scott’s mind seemed insane even to consider. Yet the time, the stakes and the adrenaline coursing through his veins didn’t let him stop to ponder it.