As Eddie and Linc drew their pistols, the man backed into the trees and took a cylindrical object from his pocket. Eddie couldn’t tell what it was until the man took the top off and struck it against the remaining segment.
It blazed to life. A road flare. The man was going to toss it into the gas-soaked clearing and burn up their best chance at developing an antidote.
The man reared back to throw the flare. Eddie and Linc didn’t give him a warning. They both shot at him through the trees until one of their bullets took him down. The flare fell harmlessly at his feet in the damp jungle.
Eddie’s eye was drawn to another flare lit up on the opposite side of the clearing.
It was Polk. Only his head was visible over the palms. He was staring back at Eddie and grinning. Three men were spread out beside him, all armed with pistols. A fourth was farther along the clearing and struck a flare as well. They were making sure they set the entire grove on fire.
Eddie and Linc opened fire to stop them, but it was too late. Polk and the other man threw their flares. They arced up in different directions and came down in the clearing.
The petrol fumes ignited even before the flares landed. The entire clearing went up in flames, creating so much heat that Eddie and Linc had to back away into the jungle. Smoke billowed into the sky.
“Good thing it’s the wet season,” Linc said. The surrounding lush jungle was in no danger of catching fire.
Eddie could barely make out Polk through the growing flames. He paused for a moment, as if appreciating his handiwork. Then he waved for his men to follow him, and he turned and disappeared into the jungle.
Cutting across the burning clearing was impossible, so Eddie and Linc would have to go around to chase them down.
“Chairman,” Eddie called on his comm unit, as he and Linc struggled to get through the dense foliage. “We were too late. The Enervum cure is up in smoke.”
* * *
—
Polk was pleased with his impeccable timing. He’d been surprised by the gunfire, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been. These people had been thorns in his and his wife’s side for days, and for once he had gotten the better of them.
Still, as he and his men followed the trail back to their vehicles, he couldn’t help wishing he’d been able to take one of them captive. The operation wasn’t complete yet, and he didn’t have any idea what else they knew. They could still pose a threat.
He had left a man with the Range Rovers where they’d parked. Since he hadn’t heard gunshots from that direction, Polk had to assume the SUVs were safe.
“Be alert,” he said to his men as they made their way down the path quickly but cautiously. “There may be more of them.”
FIFTY-THREE
The dense black smoke drifting above Raven blotted out the sun, darkening the jungle. She and MacD had come to another fork in the trail and were headed north when they’d heard the gunshots behind them.
Not wanting to blindly rush toward the flames and shots, she and MacD stopped for a sitrep. They crouched down on either side of the path and listened in as Eddie described to the Chairman what had happened.
“We counted four of them with Polk,” Eddie said.
“Where are they going?” she asked.
“They were on the other side of the clearing,” Eddie answered. “Going north.”
“Then they’re headed toward us,” MacD said. “Are any of you close by?”
“It’ll take us a while to get there,” Eddie said.
“Renee said there were other parking spots around here, so they must be going back to their cars,” Juan said. “I’m going to take Renee and Parsons back to our vehicles. Rendezvous there and we’ll chase them down.”
“Since they’ll be coming past us,” Raven said, “we could lay an ambush.”
“Not when you’re outnumbered two to one. Get back here.”
“Aye, Chairman.”
Raven and MacD stood, but she immediately waved him back down. There was movement from up ahead, and silhouettes visible against the bright flames. She pointed them out to MacD, and each of them melted farther into the trees. She saw one of the broad-leafed stinging trees she’d been warned about and steered clear of it.
“We can’t get there right now,” Raven whispered as she knelt behind a towering palm tree. “They’re going to pass right by us.”
“Let them through,” Juan said. “Follow them quietly if you can.”
Raven saw the four men walking down the trail, holding their pistols at the ready and scanning the surroundings for enemies. Shooting all four of them through the trees would indeed be difficult.
She kept an eye on them until she heard a crunch come from MacD’s direction. She immediately knew what it was—one of the jungle’s numerous red crabs being squished by a boot.
Raven whipped around to see that it wasn’t MacD who’d made the gaffe. A fifth man had snuck up behind them. He must have seen MacD and was closing on his position to kill him.
MacD had heard the same warning sound and turned to see the man just twenty feet away. Before Raven could react, he rose and exchanged gunfire. He hit the hostile in the chest to take him out, but the sound drew the attention of Polk and his other men.
They starting shooting in MacD’s direction, and one of the rounds hit him in the arm. He went down.
“MacD?” Raven called on her comm unit.
Ah’m all right,” he responded, though she could tell he was in pain.
Raven stood and fired at the men in the path, but they had now taken flanking positions, and she didn’t have a clear shot.
Polk and two of his men converged on MacD’s location, while the other two took on Raven.
“What’s happening over there?” Juan asked.
“Taking fire,” Raven said. “MacD’s down.”
“Linc and I are on the way,” Eddie said.
Not soon enough, Raven thought.
There was a short fight, then she saw Polk order his men to pick up MacD. Blood was coursing down his shirt. They herded him down the path at gunpoint. Polk commanded the other two in Chinese. She had no doubt the order was to stay behind and finish her off.
Raven had only two magazines, and her first one was almost out. She couldn’t get into a prolonged firefight with them.
They were circling around in opposite directions to get her in a deadly cross fire. She emptied her mag at one of them without success and reloaded.
She kept the tree between her and the first man, focusing on his companion. She didn’t want to waste bullets shooting through the thick greenery. The second man continued to edge toward her.
When he got within ten yards, she unloaded a volley at him. The final round hit him square in the chest, and he went down.
The first guy took that as a cue to rush her. Raven turned just in time to see him crash through the bushes and launch himself at her.
She caught his gun wrist with her free hand, and he did the same with her, locking them together in mortal combat.
Raven was a tall, strong woman, but the man was her equal and had an iron grip. She needed an advantage and remembered the nearby stinging tree. It was just to her right, only a couple of yards away.
She wrestled him to the side, trying to maneuver him into the plant. But to get him to move, she had to shift her weight, and the motion gave him the leverage.
He swept her right foot out from under her, and they toppled to the ground only inches from the stinging tree’s leaves. The pistol dropped from her hand, and the man landed on top of her.
She clamped both her hands around his arm, but he used his body weight to slowly inch his gun toward her head. His finger was wrapped around the trigger. In a few more seconds, she was a dead woman.
One of the large leaves dangled over her face. She was so close she could ma
ke out the tiny hairs covering it.
She kneed the gunman, causing him to pitch forward just enough for his face to brush against the leaf.
He let out a hideous shriek and jumped to his feet, clawing at his face in pain.
Raven rolled over and picked up her gun. Before he could focus again, she put him out of his misery with a shot to the forehead.
Careful to steer clear of the pain-inducing leaves, she leaped to her feet and ran for the path in pursuit of MacD.
Up ahead through the trees, she saw the road. There were two Range Rovers. Polk’s two henchmen tied MacD’s hands behind his back with a jumper cable. She raised her pistol, but again she didn’t have a clear shot.
MacD was stuffed into a Range Rover with Polk and one guy, while the other got into the second SUV. They took off just as she reached the road. She got off two shots before her gun went dry. The Range Rovers skidded around a corner and were gone. If she was right about her orientation, Polk would be passing their parked vehicles in a minute or so.
“Chairman,” Raven said into her earpiece. “Polk has MacD. They took off in two Range Rovers and are coming your way.”
FIFTY-FOUR
Juan was at full sprint now to get back to the road, leaving Renee and Parsons behind him to catch up.
“Gomez, do you read me?” he said as he ran.
“I’m here, Chairman.”
“What’s your status?”
“I’m refueling now. I can be ready to take off in ten minutes.”
“What’s the private jet doing?”
“It’s taxiing out to the runway.”
“Can you block it?”
“From taking off?” Gomez asked.
“With the tiltrotor.”
“Depends how long they wait at the end of the runway. They’re almost there.”
“They won’t take off yet,” Juan said. “Do what you can.”
He ran out onto the road with his back to the crab bridge and saw the two Range Rovers racing toward him. Juan drew his pistol. MacD would be in the back of one of the SUVs, so Juan’s best chance was to take out the drivers as they passed him.
He stood behind Renee’s Mercedes and took aim at the lead driver. From this distance, he couldn’t make out his face or tell which vehicle MacD was in, so he’d have to be careful about his sight lines. He couldn’t take the chance that one of his stray bullets would hit MacD.
The Range Rovers approached at high speed, one closely following the other. As the lead SUV came closer, he could tell the driver was a Chinese man, not Polk. He took aim and fired three quick shots at him.
One of the rounds hit him, causing the Range Rover to swing off the road. At the same time, he saw Polk in the driver’s seat of the second vehicle. Juan squeezed off a shot as it flashed by, but he missed. MacD grimaced from the back seat, where he was being guarded by another man.
The lead Range Rover with its dead driver struck one end of the crab overpass, severing it from its base, and flipped into the trees.
The bridge, now supported on only one side, came crashing down just as Polk’s vehicle drove safely underneath it. The bridge settled onto the roadway at an angle, reducing the clearance to only four feet high, far too little to allow the Mercedes G-Wagen to pass below it and chase them down.
A gargling rumble came from behind him. Juan turned to see Renee squeal to a stop next to him in the low-slung Jaguar.
“Get in,” she shouted and pointed at the narrow gap under the collapsed bridge. “We can make it through there.”
“I can’t ask you—”
“It will take twice as long to intercept them in the other direction with the Mercedes,” Parsons called out as he jogged up. “And you have the gun. She won’t take no for an answer, believe me.”
Juan didn’t argue any further. He hopped over the door, and Renee took off before he was all the way in his seat.
Renee gunned the engine, and it felt like the sports car was shot from a cannon. She threaded the Jag neatly under the bridge remains and floored it in the hope of overtaking the Range Rover.
“How many different ways to the airport on this road?”
“Just two, but they won’t take the scenic route along the coast.”
The speedometer needle was already pushing ninety. At this rate, it would take only a few minutes to cross the small island.
“Thanks for doing this,” Juan shouted over the rushing wind as he loaded a fresh mag.
“Don’t let them get away with harming our island.”
The Jag screamed around a corner and onto a long straightaway. The Range Rover was a half mile ahead. Renee deftly cycled through the gears until they were at well over a hundred miles per hour.
Juan couldn’t risk shooting through the cabin and hitting MacD, so he was going to aim for a tire. It would delay Polk long enough for Eddie and the others to intercept them.
But Polk’s Range Rover was slowed by another vehicle that he had to pass, and the Jag closed the distance. They were only a few car lengths behind when the man guarding MacD started shooting at them.
MacD slammed his body into the man, throwing off his aim, so Renee easily dodged the bullets. Juan leaned over the side and carefully sighted down the right rear tire of the Range Rover. He squeezed off a round, and he saw a puff from the tire. A direct hit.
But nothing happened. The rubber didn’t fly apart, and the tire didn’t deflate.
“You hit it dead-on,” Renee said in astonishment. “Why didn’t that work?”
“It must have run-flats,” Juan said, “so we can’t stop them before they get to the airport. Our only chance is to stop the plane from taking off.”
“I’ll ram their landing gear if I have to.”
Juan still had half a magazine left. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
They reached the end of the straightaway.
“The entrance to the airport is just a kilometer around this curve,” Renee said.
But instead of following the road to the left, the Range Rover made an abrupt right, smashing through a barrier onto a dirt road.
“Why is he going in there?” Renee wondered as she slowed.
“What’s in there?”
“It’s an old phosphate mine. Unused now since the airport was built.”
Juan remembered seeing it from the air as they’d come in for a landing this morning.
“The mine is at the end of the runway. Follow them.”
Renee turned the Jag onto the dirt track, which was now covered with a dust cloud thrown into the air by the Range Rover. She kept on their trail for a few twists and turns until the road became little more than a rocky track for heavy machinery. There was no way the old Jag would be able to navigate through it.
Renee came a stop, and through the dust, they could see a path where the shrubbery had been flattened by the Range Rover. Juan jumped out and ran through it.
He came out the other side to see the private jet idling at the end of the runway a hundred yards ahead. The Range Rover skidded to a halt next to it, and MacD was hauled out and roughly pushed up the stairs by Polk and his henchman. In the distance beside the airport terminal, the tiltrotor’s propellers were turning, but it would be several more seconds before they were fully up to speed for liftoff.
The door to the jet closed, and the twin engines whined as they came to full power. Juan sprinted across the grass, too far away to take a decent shot. Before he could get close, the jet rolled down the runway, leaving the Range Rover behind. It lifted off and turned east. Juan watched it vanish into a cloud bank.
This morning when the tiltrotor had arrived, his team had been in a good mood, expecting to find the essential ingredient to the cure for Murph and the others who had been paralyzed. Now not only had they lost their best chance at an antidote, but they’d also l
ost MacD in the process.
But Juan wasn’t the type to give up easily, and he still had reason for hope. All the Oregon crew were implanted with GPS trackers in their thighs for just this eventuality. When activated, the tiny chip broadcasted a location signal every minute.
They would be able to tell exactly where Polk was taking MacD.
FIFTY-FIVE
By the time the Gulfstream jet reached cruising altitude, MacD’s injured arm had been bandaged by the Chinese man while Polk kept a pistol aimed at him. When first aid was complete, his hands were tied behind his back again, and Polk spoke in Mandarin to the medic. MacD flexed his arm and winced, but he’d been through worse.
“Mighty nice of you to patch up your hostage,” MacD said. “Ah’ll take a mimosa and a Vicodin while you’re at it.”
Polk put the pistol away and leaned back in the opposite chair. “He says the bullet went through the muscle in your shoulder. You’ll need stitches when we arrive at our destination. In the meantime, I didn’t want you bleeding all over the plane.”
MacD looked out the window, but all he could see was water. Judging by the sun’s position, they were heading east.
“And what is our destination?”
“A secluded location.”
“They’ll track us there.”
Polk shook his head, smiling. “Not with the plane’s transponder off, they won’t.” He sat forward. “Which brings me to my first question. Who are you and who do you work for?”
MacD stared at Polk as he considered how to respond. He knew the Oregon was tracking him, so he had to stay alive long enough for a rescue. And now that the secret ingredient to the antidote was destroyed, the only chance to cure Murph was for the Corporation to find Jin and Polk on the chance that they’d created their own supply.
When the pause went on too long, Polk said, “We dressed your wound, but that doesn’t mean I’m above torturing you to get what I want to know.”
“That wouldn’t do you much good,” MacD said, a delaying tactic forming in his mind.
“Why is that, tough guy?”
Marauder Page 24
