Once they were moving again, she set her hand on his shoulder. She had a feeling that touching him would spook him all over again, but like unleashing that tear, she couldn’t help herself. He tensed at her touch but met the look she gave him in the mirror. “Just so you know, for future reference, the best thing to do when a woman cries is to keep your mouth shut and hand her a tissue. Cringing and running away is definitely not recommended. You’ve got to learn how to play it closer to the vest.”
The edge of his jaw grew tight, not with a scowl of irritation, but as though he was fighting a grin. “I must’ve skipped that day in guy school.”
Though she wanted to squeeze his shoulder, to test the breadth of it against her palm, she forced herself to let go and sit back in her seat. “Then I should also mention that the only exception to the tissue rule is if the woman crying is someone you care a lot about, then you have to hold her until she’s done. Think you can handle that, soldier?”
“Roger that. Mouth shut. Weepy chicks get tissues except girlfriends, then you have to offer yourself as a tissue.”
It was useless to resist his dry wit. Her chest shook with a silent chuckle. “You have a way with words.”
“Yeah, right. You should know you’re the first person in the history of the world to pay me that particular compliment.” He glanced to the passenger seat, then opened and closed the glove compartment. “There are no tissues in this car. Unbelievable.”
“Not even on your Batman utility belt?”
“You think maybe I tucked one of those travel packs of tissues next to my grappling hooks and spare magazines? No dice. Sorry.”
They thumped onto a paved road and sped southwest at an impossibly high speed. Given how far away from the city they were, they hadn’t passed a single car or person, reminding Vanessa that she still had no idea where they were going or what the plan was.
“What’s a Leroy?” she asked.
“I was trained by a man named Leroy Yarborough. Taught me everything I know to stay alive and do the job right. One thing I learned from him was that going into any situation, you have plan A, plan B, and going on down the line, but you always have one last plan no one knows about but you, completely off the grid. Plan zero, he called it. The ultimate failsafe. So when you get in a jam and don’t know who you can trust or what’s going on, you have a ready response.”
“Makes sense.”
“When I started with ICE, I made damn sure I had a plan zero in place, and I insisted each of my crew members did, too. After a while, we got to calling it a Leroy because it sounded less dramatic, you know? I’ve only had to use it three times in twelve years, but that’s three times Leroy’s lessons saved my life and the lives of my crew.”
“How many people are in your crew?”
“Four plus me.”
“Do you know what their Leroys are?”
“No clue, and they don’t know about mine. They could be on a boat for Mexico or hiding out in a monastery for all I know. That’s why it works. Not a soul in the world will be able to find me, or in this case find us, until we want them to.”
She was about to go off the grid with a man she’d just met, without anyone knowing where she’d be. She’d made up her mind to trust Diego implicitly, but that trust was being put to the test sooner than she would’ve liked.
She was about to ask if she’d have a chance to let Jordan know she was safe when a chain-link fence came into view. They blazed through the gate, waved on by a weathered old man, and onto a bare, grassy field in which sat a huge metal building the size of an airplane hangar.
Diego parked in front of the building. He jogged from the car, worked a padlock and pushed the heavy metal door open, revealing several helicopters and canvas-tarp-covered cars.
Vanessa scrambled out from the backseat and followed him inside. He stopped at the first helicopter, a tiny, black two-seater model.
The closer she got to the helicopter, the more trepidation made her heart pound. That piddly little sphere of metal was his plan zero—the Leroy? Flying wasn’t her favorite, especially in itty-bitty planes. And she’d never flown in anything as tiny as a helicopter, or one missing its doors, such as this one was. It looked like a toy. “You know how to fly this thing?”
Busy inspecting something inside a panel toward the tail of the helicopter, near splashy red lettering declaring Panama Canal Photography Tours, he glanced sideways at her. “I might’ve missed a few lessons about how to deal with weepy broads, but I aced flight school. Try not to look so nervous. You’re bruising my ego.”
With that, he strode to the wall and punched a button. Gears whirred to life, then the ceiling of the hangar began to retract.
The doorway darkened with the form of the old man from the gate. Rattling something in Spanish, Diego flipped him the car keys. For a second, she contemplated swiping the keys away and making a break for it. Ridiculous idea, sure, but at least she’d be near the ground in case of a crash. With mounting anxiety, she calculated how many seconds it would take to hit the earth after a free fall from ten thousand feet. Not a number designed to bring her comfort.
Diego angled himself into her line of sight. “I see your mind working overtime, trying to make sense of it all, but you’ve got to stop thinking so hard. You know that primeval instinct we’ve all got for fight-or-flight? It’s flight time.”
“That thing is really small.”
He slung an arm across her shoulders and guided her to the passenger side. “Aw, now, don’t you know it’s not polite to go around insulting the size of a man’s helicopter?” Offering his hand, he added, “In you go.”
Events were happening way too fast for her to process. How could she decide if she was making the right choice if she didn’t have time to stop and think about it? Then again, taking too much time to contemplate her options might get her killed. Drawing a steadying breath, she accepted his hand and climbed inside. The copter looked bigger from this perspective, but it shook when Diego climbed in. Not exactly comforting.
He handed her a headset, checked her harness seat belt, then fiddled with various gears and switches. The engine fired up, building to a deafening roar, and she could tell the rotors were spinning by the swirl of dust on the floor and the flap of the papers tacked to the wall.
The entire helicopter vibrated as it rose from the ground, including Vanessa’s teeth. She clutched the arms of her seat and squeezed her eyes closed.
“Relax. Seriously,” said Diego’s voice through her headset. “Of all the things in your life right now worth getting scared about, this isn’t one of them.”
That was sound logic, sure, but since when did logic ever work against fear? “I’ve never flown in a helicopter before.”
“I kind of gathered that. How about you consider this one of those expensive aerial rainforest tours all the cruise ship tourists pay the big bucks for? And bonus for you, because you’ve got your own personal guide.”
Although she wasn’t ready to open her eyes, she managed to unclamp her teeth long enough to attempt some desperation humor. “From chauffeur to tour guide, huh? Would you consider that a promotion?”
He squeezed her shoulder, which was probably meant as a gesture of comfort, but it made her stomach drop. “What are you doing? Get both your hands back on the wheel, or whatever that thingy is called.”
He chuckled but removed his hand. “Cyclic stick.”
“Whatever.”
“As your tour guide, I suggest you open your eyes and look out your door. The view of Camino de Cruces National Park is pretty freakin’ cool, and in about five minutes, we’ll be crossing over the canal.”
“Nice try.”
He chuckled again, and she was about to give him a piece of her mind for his lack of sensitivity when his laughter cut off.
“That ain’t friendly,�
� he muttered.
“What’s not?”
Without warning, the helicopter swerved right and dropped altitude. She yelped, her eyes flying open and arms flailing. “What are you doing?”
“Hang on. We’ve got company.”
Chapter 5
Vanessa dug her nails into the armrests of her seat. She gritted her teeth against a yelp as Diego banked along the tree canopy of a steep mountain ridge, a huge camo-green Panama army helicopter hot on their tail.
He leveled out and she caught her breath enough to speak. “Why would the army think anything suspicious when your helicopter says it’s part of a tour company?”
“That is an excellent question that we can definitely discuss later. Right now, I’m going to concentrate on not getting the two of us stuck in military custody.”
They wove through valleys between mountains of dense greenery and burst out over the open space above the canal. The skyscrapers of the Panama City skyline looked small against the western horizon. She glanced behind them, her heart sinking at the sight of the army helicopter still in pursuit.
“Do you think you can outrun it?”
He ground his lips together. “Outrun, outmaneuver, outwit—whatever it takes. I feel like a broken record, but could you please have a little faith in my abilities? This is getting old.”
He swerved left, crossing the canal, then wrenched the control stick forward. They dropped low and followed the path of the water. This far east of Panama City, the canal looked more like a river, green and wide and dotted with boats that zoomed past her line of sight. In the distance ahead of them, she could barely make out a strip of gray-blue. The Atlantic Ocean.
“Are your eyes open?” Diego asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed behind her cringing, closed lips.
“Go ahead and close them again. And hang on.”
That was one command she wouldn’t argue about. She mashed her eyes closed as they lost altitude so suddenly, her stomach felt like it hit the ceiling. In the next moment, their helicopter started to weave like an orb at the end of a pendulum.
She thought it couldn’t get any worse until she heard a loud series of cracks.
“What’s that?” she said.
“They’re firing at us,” Diego said in a calm voice.
“Oh, crap.”
“Relax. They’re getting desperate.”
“How is that a good thing? Seriously, I want to know.”
The swerving stopped, so she snuck a peek, seeing only a wall of mossy green rock face on either side. Ahead of them, more green as the narrow canyon they were flying through curved right.
“It’s a good thing because it means I’ve just about lost them,” Diego said. “They were too far away to hit us anyway. Probably a couple of rookie soldiers piloting it. You can open your eyes now. There’s a great view here out my side.”
She unstuck her neck from its forward position and looked across Diego. They were hovering near the face of a waterfall. “Nice,” she said, and meant it.
He offered her a lopsided grin of pure male pride. “Since I know you’re going to insult me by asking, I might as well cut right to the answers. Yes, I did lose the army chopper. No, they won’t find us. We’re perfectly safe with just enough fuel to get us to my Leroy. Did I miss anything?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, then. We’re leaving the waterfall-in-the-canyon part of the tour. Next photo op will be the Atlantic Ocean.”
For the time being, she wasn’t afraid. She returned his smile and settled back as the helicopter surged forward and followed the path of the canyon’s river all the way to the sea.
Their time over the Atlantic was short. Heading north, they flew over numerous islands and luxury resorts dotting the coast before turning west at the mouth of a river and heading over land, into a dense, deep green spread of mountainous wilderness.
They followed the path of the river into the mountains, climbing ever steeper and farther from civilization. Where the river became a lake, they broke away from it and headed north once more.
A beep sounded from the instrument panel. She looked at Diego, who didn’t seem concerned. Then again, nothing seemed to faze him except tears and questions or comments doubting his skills and intentions.
“Low fuel warning,” he said. “But that’s fine because we’re here and I’ve got more fuel in my cabin to get us wherever we go next.”
He crested a mountain peak and hovered over another section of river.
“The fun just keeps on coming today,” he grouched, looking out his door at the water.
“What do you mean?”
He scratched his chin. “This is my landing pad.”
“Where?”
He pointed downward, indicating the water directly below them. “I was only here a month ago. The river’s changed course.”
The fuel gauge beeped again. “You have to find another clearing.”
“Thanks for the tip, but there are no other clearings, okay? It’s a rainforest. And even if we did want to search for one, we’re out of fuel.”
He was right about the fun keeping on coming, as long as if by fun, he meant moments of excruciating terror. Knowing that any questions she asked or doubts she showed about his ability would only make him surlier, she clamped her mouth shut and sat as still as possible.
On the third low-fuel warning beep, he nodded. “I’ve got an idea.” He lifted the helicopter and skimmed the canopy of trees, retracing the way they’d come.
He hovered the helicopter over the trees near the lake where they’d made the turn and dropped altitude. After unbuckling his harness and utility belt, he tossed the belt out the window. Ignoring her questioning look, he sped the helicopter backward for the count of a few seconds until they were over the center of the lake below the level of the canopy.
He reached over and unbuckled her harness. She clutched the armrests. “What are you doing?”
“There’s a cabin two kilometers due north of here. If I don’t make it, you’ll find what you need there—food, water, the works. Get the phone out of the belt I dropped on a boulder and call my crew. They’ll take care of you.” With that, he pulled her headpiece off.
“What are you talking about?”
He pointed across her, out the door. “You have to jump, Vanessa.”
Oh, no. Absolutely not.
Clutching the doorframe so hard her fingers ached, she shuffled her feet toward the edge and poked her head out the side to stare at the green water below. They were close enough that a jump would be safe as long as the water was deep. She was a decent swimmer, but the relative height and the idea of actually making that leap left her feeling inextricably lightheaded.
Over the roar of the rotor blades, she shouted, “Are you crazy? How high up are we?”
“Fifteen meters. It’s as low as I can get with these trees.”
Fifteen meters was fifty feet. A five-story building. Her stomach heaved. To help her cope, she needed an equation to solve. “Fifteen meters means I’ll hit the water at a velocity of...”
Determining velocity required her to first calculate the speed of the fall. She saw the two equations in her head and had the answer on the tip of her tongue when Diego beat her to it.
“Seventeen meters per second, I know. Nothing I can do about that.”
An ICE agent who could solve physics equations in his head faster than she could? Impressive. Not that it made her any more eager to hit the water at that speed. “Never mind the velocity, there could be barracuda in there, or crocodiles. Leeches, even.”
“That’s a chance you have to take. There’s nowhere else to land. The rainforest is too thick and we’re out of fuel. You have to suck it up and jump.”
“What about you? What di
d you mean by ‘if you don’t make it’?”
“I’m going to jump, too, but I have to wait until you’re clear of the chopper. And there’s a chance my jump won’t go off as planned. We’re running out of time.”
She knew she needed to trust him not to leave her, but it was hard. She’d never been this far out of control of her life and she couldn’t stop the questions, couldn’t let go of the fear that he’d abandon her to fend for herself. “How do I know you’re not going to dump me here and fly away?”
“I thought we went over this. Did you forget my speech already?”
“No.” But promises were as fluid as water, she wanted to add. People made promises all the time that they didn’t keep. They left without warning, just slipped through your fingers while you tried to hold on to them.
“Okay, ready? On the count of three. One...two...”
“Wait!” She stuffed her hand in her pocket and pulled out the zip drive. So much for having an ace up her sleeve. “This can’t get wet.”
“What is that?”
“Data I copied from the bank about suspicious transactions.”
“Aka, the reason you’re in this mess?”
“Yep.”
He took it from her and sealed it into a compartment on his thigh holster.
“You gotta hustle now. We don’t have much time left in this bird.”
She stood and faced the opening, then twisted to take one last look at Diego. What if he didn’t make it? What if this was the last time she saw him? “Diego...”
“Jump into the damn water or I’m going to push you. Right now.”
She whipped her head straight. Like everything else that had happened in the past couple hours, with this, she didn’t have a choice. She sucked in a breath and flung herself over the edge.
At seventeen meters per second, she dropped through thin air in a free fall that seemed to last forever and hit the water so hard it stung. Then cool water engulfed her. She pulled to the surface, gasping for breath.
Tempted Into Danger Page 6
