On the Run

by Iris Johansen

  Fear shot through her. “Have you got someone outside the tent keeping watch? Will you— Of course you do.”

  He smiled. “Of course I do.”

  He was gone.

  Her nails bit into her palms as she listened. She wanted to run out and see what was happening. All she could do was stand here and strain her ears to hear every sound to try to tell if Kilmer was in trouble.

  A shot!

  Oh, God.

  Laughter. Bells. Marvot’s voice.

  He wasn’t shouting. He only sounded annoyed.

  Another shot.

  She ran to the tent opening and threw aside the tarp.

  The guard who had pushed Grace into the tent was pulling a struggling Frankie behind him.

  “Mom, tell him. I have to get back to the colt. All that shooting scared him.”

  Grace ignored her to ask the guard, “What’s all the shooting about?”

  He shrugged. “They’re trying to sell us their guns. Very poor quality. Some are so old they were used in the Iran-Iraq War. They are going soon. They were only permitted to stay because the guns interested us.” He thrust Frankie at her. “She has no respect. If she were my child, she would be beaten until she could not stand.”

  “I’m sure.” She pulled Frankie into the tent. “Tell us when they’ve left and we can go back to the horses.” She dropped the flap and held up her hand as Frankie started to protest. “Be quiet. You don’t have to cosset the colt every minute. We need to keep a low profile for a little while.”

  “Why? The colt is—” She stopped, sniffing. “It smells . . . strange.”

  “Yes, it does. And it’s your job to get that smell out of here as soon as they let us open those flaps. Use anything you can find to fan it out of here.”

  “But what is—” Her eyes widened. “Jake?”

  Another shot.

  Dammit, why were men so like children when it came to weapons?

  “Jake.” Grace crossed her arms against her chest to keep them from shaking. “But he can’t help us yet. We have to wait.”

  “How long?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just want your reactions to seem genuine no matter what happens. Do you understand that?”

  She nodded slowly. “I guess so. What do I do?”

  “Take care of the colt and Hope.” She paused. “And you may have to take care of Charlie too.”

  “Why? I told you, he doesn’t like me.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t trust the guards to take care of Charlie.”

  “But you’ll be here to— No?”

  “I’m going to be pretty sick for a little while. I may not be able to help you.”

  “You mean pretend sick, right?”

  She shook her head. “No pretense.” She knelt in front of Frankie and took her hands. “I’m going to make myself sick, baby. But it will only last a day and then I’ll be okay.”

  “Why?” Her hands gripped Grace’s tightly. “I don’t want you to be sick. What if you don’t get well?”

  “I’ll get well.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Jake gave me the medicine to make me sick, and I trust him. You have to trust him too.”

  Frankie shook her head. “No, not if he makes you sick.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me, Frankie. Any more than he’d hurt you.” She wasn’t getting through to her. Frankie was terrified, and who could blame her? The worst fear a child could experience was the terror of losing a parent. “He cares about us, Frankie.” Oh, what the hell, tell her. “Do you know why we have to trust him?”

  “Because he’s a good guy?”

  She drew a deep breath. “He’s your father, Frankie.”

  “What?”

  The shock on Frankie’s face sent a surge of apprehension through Grace. Was it a mistake? Should she have waited? Should she have told her at all? “It’s the truth.”

  “He didn’t . . . want me?”

  “No, that’s not true,” she said quickly. “He did want you. But he wanted to keep you safe, to keep us both safe.”

  Frankie’s gaze searched her face. “Honest?”

  “Honest.” She hadn’t realized until this minute that she did believe what Kilmer had told her. “So you have to trust Jake because he loves you very, very much.” Grace hugged Frankie close and then pushed her back to look into her eyes. “And he’d never give me anything that would make me sick if I couldn’t get well.”

  “Like that movie we watched. The one in the tomb.”

  At first, she didn’t understand. “Oh, Romeo and Juliet.” She chuckled. “Yes, I’ll definitely come back to life in twelve hours. But you’ll have to hold down the fort until I do.”

  Frankie nodded. “And I’ll pretend to be scared when you’re sick.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to pretend.” She kissed her on the forehead. “But don’t be too scared. It will make me feel worse. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She moistened her lips. “When?”

  “I’ll take the medicine in the middle of the night so that I’ll be sick most of the day tomorrow.” She stroked Frankie’s hair back from her face. “And there’s nothing you can do for me except take care of the horses. It’s going to hurt you to see me like that, and you’ll have to be brave.”

  “Maybe the medicine won’t work.”

  “It will work. Because Jake said it would. Now let’s get something to eat and see if they’re going to let us go back to the horses. I haven’t heard any more shots, have you?”

  “No.” Frankie was shaking. “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t like this, Mom.”

  “Neither do I. And I’m going to like it less tomorrow. But it’s our chance, Frankie. We have to grab any chance we can.” She got to her feet. “Now let’s go soothe your Maestro.”

  Grace carefully tucked the blanket around the sleeping Frankie and moved quietly toward the tent flap. The next moment she was outside and being intercepted by the guard.

  “I’m not trying to escape,” she said wearily. “I just have to check on the horses again. Marvot wouldn’t mind me doing that, I assure you.”

  “It’s three in the morning,” he said suspiciously. “Go back into the tent.”

  “Look, I’m not feeling so well and I don’t want to argue. Do you want to wake Marvot and explain that you kept me from doing my job? He won’t be pleased.”

  The guard hesitated and then stepped aside. “I can see the corral well from here. Stay in full view. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

  “I won’t need that long.”

  Charlie was standing on the opposite end of the corral but lifted his head as she approached.

  I’m not here to bother you. I had to tell you that I won’t see you tomorrow. Frankie will be here, and she’ll be scared and worried and I’d like it if you’d not be a complete shit to her. I’ll try to see you tomorrow night and we’re going into the desert the day after. It’s not going to be like it was before. I don’t care if you take me to find anything. If you want to wander around all day, that’s great. But just help me and I promise that you and Hope will be free of the enemy. Okay?

  He stared at her and then looked away.

  That’s encouraging.

  She turned and started back to the tent.

  Charlie neighed.

  She glanced back at him. He still wasn’t looking at her.

  What the hell? Did she expect him to chatter like Mr. Ed in that old TV series? She didn’t even know how much he understood. If anything. Since childhood she’d believed that at times she’d been able to tap into that comprehension. That strong bonds could exist between horses and people if you cared enough. But right now she was discouraged enough to wonder if she was only fooling herself.

  Well, forget it. She could only do what she could do. It wasn’t as if she—

  Charlie neighed once more. And when she looked back at him again, it was to see t
hat he’d come to the place where she’d stood by the corral and was staring after her.

  If you do understand me, just be good to Frankie. Help her.

  She hurried back to the tent and passed the guard without even glancing at him.

  Frankie was still sleeping.

  So beautiful. Don’t wake her until it was necessary. She was going to be disturbed soon enough.

  She glanced at her watch: 3:45 A.M. It was time.

  She took out the packet and got a cup of water from the bucket beside the bed.

  Don’t think about it. Just do it.

  She swallowed the powder and then the water as a chaser. She quickly tore up the tiny packet and tucked it into the bottom of her knapsack. She had to work fast now. She didn’t know how quickly the powder would take effect. She put the metal cup back by the water bucket, lay down, and pulled the blanket over her. She had done all she could. She had prepared the way by telling the guard she wasn’t feeling well. She had taken the powder at the logical time. If the powder made her ill the full twelve hours that Kilmer had told her it would, then she wouldn’t be able to function until late in the day.

  She didn’t feel sick. Maybe Kilmer had given her the wrong—

  Trust him, she had told Frankie. She smiled ruefully. How bizarre to have to trust him to give her a dose that would—

  She gasped with pain.

  Her stomach was clenching, twisting in agony.

  She barely made it to the water bucket before she threw up.

  You look terrible.” Marvot was frowning as he looked down at her. “The guard says you’ve been throwing up for an hour. What’s wrong with you?”

  “How do I know?” She closed her eyes as waves of nausea rolled over her. “Did you poison me?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” he said curtly. “I need you.”

  “That would make a difference. Then maybe it’s food poisoning or flu or . . . maybe a bug bit me. I don’t know. You decide.” She staggered over to the bucket again. “I’m busy.”

  She retched, but there was no longer anything in her stomach to come up. Dear God, she felt sick. “I feel a little better than I did an hour ago. Maybe the worst is over.”

  “You look ghastly.” His lips curled distastefully. “And this tent smells of vomit.” He headed for the door. “This business doesn’t please me.”

  “Me either.” She was cold and shaking from reaction. Jesus, Kilmer, did you have to do this good a job? Yes, he did, or it wouldn’t have been convincing. “Do I get a doctor?”

  “Hell, no, I won’t have outside interference. This isn’t Geneva conventions.” He looked at Frankie, who was huddled in the corner. “Maybe it will spur your recovery if I remind you that without you I have no use for her.”

  “Give me a little time.” She bent over the bucket again as a new wave of nausea washed over her. “Just a few hours . . .”

  When she raised her head again, he was gone.

  “I didn’t think it would be like this, Mom,” Frankie whispered. Her eyes were huge in her pale face. “Are you going to die?”

  “No, I told you . . .” She had to close her eyes again. “It will be over after today. I’ll be fine.”

  “Jake shouldn’t have made you this sick.”

  “Yes, he should.” It was hard to argue with her when her body was agreeing wholeheartedly. “And you shouldn’t be in here with me. You can’t help. Get out and go take care of the horses.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Get out of here, Frankie. It’s harder for me with you sitting there worrying.”

  Frankie slowly got to her feet. “May I come back soon?”

  “Four hours. Just so you can check and see that I’m all right. Then you go back to the horses.”

  “I don’t want—” She broke off and turned away. “I don’t like you to be sick. There should have— I don’t like it.”

  But she left the tent, and Grace was grateful. It was bad enough to be this sick without having to comfort Frankie. Even though she’d warned her, she’d known that Frankie wouldn’t be able to handle her illness with any degree of composure. She was too loving; their relationship was too close.

  Oh, God, she was going to be sick again.

  Just get through it. The hours would pass and the pain and nausea would stop.

  But if that sandstorm doesn’t roll in tomorrow on schedule, I’m going to murder you, Kilmer.

  By noon Grace’s diarrhea and vomiting had stopped, but the chills remained. By three the chills had gradually faded away, leaving her weak and totally exhausted. By five she was able to drink a little water.

  At five-thirty Marvot paid her another visit. “You’re well?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I could use another day of rest.”

  “You’re not going to get it,” he said curtly. “You’ve wasted too much of my time. You start out at eight in the morning.”

  “But you claim you have so much patience.”

  “It’s at an end. I’m getting too close.”

  “Very well, eight o’clock.” She paused. “I want to take Frankie with me.”

  “No.”

  “She gets along well with the mare. I need the help.”

  “She’s never ridden her. You have the stallion and you can lead the mare.”

  “I’d have a better chance if I—”

  “No.” He smiled grimly. “I’m quite sure you’ll concentrate wholeheartedly on the search if the child is in my loving custody. Because if I don’t have either a concrete find or at least a hint of where that engine is located, then I’ll shoot that colt in front of the little girl. I don’t believe you’d like that.”

  Grace could see the terror the threat brought to Frankie’s face.

  Bastard. She said through her teeth, “I’ll do my best to give you what you want.”

  “I know you will,” he said as he left. “I only have to press the right buttons.”

  The death of the colt. Perhaps the death of Frankie.

  “I won’t let him do it,” Frankie said fiercely. “I won’t let him hurt Maestro.”

  “It was a threat, Frankie.”

  “He’d do it. I know he’d do it. I won’t let him.”

  Frankie was angry and scared, but no more frightened than Grace. She’d desperately wanted Marvot to permit Frankie to go with her.

  Keep calm. Kilmer would know that Frankie was being left at the camp and that they’d have to adjust any plans to include the development.

  But it would have been easier if Frankie had been with her so that Grace could make sure she was safe.

  “Listen, Frankie, Jake will be coming for you, and you mustn’t let the colt keep you from going with him. Marvot won’t shoot the colt unless he has something to gain by it. If you’re not here, he won’t be able to hurt us by doing that.”

  “He might.” Her eyes were glittering with tears. “And it would be my fault. I won’t go without Maestro.”

  She gazed at her daughter helplessly. “Frankie, it wouldn’t be— Okay, we’ll find a way to get Maestro away from here. Just be ready.”

  Frankie nodded. “And I’ll have him ready too.”

  And how the devil were they going to get the gangly colt away from Marvot?

  Play it by ear. It was all they could do when they couldn’t plan anything with certainty from minute to minute. “You do that.” She sat up, then closed her eyes for a minute and fought the dizziness. “But right now I need you to do something much simpler. Would you go ask the guard to get me a bowl of meat broth of some sort? I have to get my strength back before tomorrow morning.”

  “Sure.” Frankie jumped to her feet. “Anything else?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll try some solid food later.” She wrinkled her nose. “And then I’ll clean up and we’ll wash this tent. The odor’s terrible. It makes me feel sick again just smelling it.”

  “Right.” Frankie ran out of the tent.

  Grace struggled to her feet a
nd followed her to the flap and gazed up at the sky.

  White clouds, blue skies. No wind stirring.

  They were banking everything on the sirocco that was supposed to strike tomorrow, and there was no sign that would happen. Well, if it didn’t, then they’d go in a different direction. Kilmer would have an alternative plan. She had to have faith.

  Marvot was becoming impatient. His threat against Frankie had teeth.

  Then she’d deal with him. She’d find a way to stop him until another plan was in place.

  But, dammit, she wished there was a breath of wind, a stirring of the sand dunes to indicate a disturbance in nature.

  Nothing.

  The horse trailers and two RVs left the oasis at eight-thirty the next morning. They reached the deserted village of Kartal an hour later.

  Blockman slid down the side of the dune to where Kilmer and Adam waited five minutes later. “They’ve just unloaded the trailers. Frankie isn’t with her.”

  “Damn.” Kilmer turned to Adam. “We’ll have to split up the team. We’ll get Grace and I’ll send Donavan to get Frankie.”

  Adam nodded. “You’ll have to move fast.” He turned. “Now I’ll go and see where Marvot is setting up surveillance of your Grace. When the storm hits, we’ll want to know where he is so that we won’t stumble over him.”

  “If the storm hits.”

  “It will hit today. Hassan says his teeth ache. It’s a sure sign.”

  “Great.” He started to crawl up the dune. “Let’s hope he doesn’t just have a cavity.”

  Go away. All of you.” Grace took a step nearer Charlie. “You’re making him nervous, Marvot.”

  “We’re leaving.” Marvot got back into the RV. “Actually, he’s amazingly calm. Usually by this time he’s tried to run over any stable hand within ten yards of him. I’m impressed.”

  “It doesn’t mean that he’ll be trotting along to Burton’s cache.” She put her hand on Charlie’s mane. The stallion was tense but he didn’t shy away from her. “Which probably doesn’t exist. He probably destroyed it so that you couldn’t get your hands on it.”

  “It exists. Burton had a giant ego. He wouldn’t give up his chance of becoming a worldwide household name. And it’s somewhere in that area. If we hadn’t been forced to kill the bastard, he would have told us the exact location.” He stared her in the eye. “You start out right away and we’ll come back and set up a base here. Come back at the end of the day and we’ll pick you up. I’ve had this entire area scoured by my men, and Kilmer’s nowhere around. But there will be someone watching you all the time. Don’t try to get away or I’ll be heading back to the oasis to see your daughter.”