They slammed into the ground. The impact jarred every bone and tooth in his body. The landing skids snapped like hummingbird bones. Trees splintered and metal crumpled louder than gunshots. The windshield cracked into spider webbing.
With a final heave, the chopper settled at an angle. Fifteen degrees or so. Manageable.
They were on the ground.
He released his grip on the controls and hauled in breath. “You okay? Kate?”
No answer. He felt like a shard of glass was lodged in his throat. Hands shaking, he freed the seat belt and stumbled aft.
She was hunched over the cushion from the seat he’d vacated. Unconscious? Or—?
“Kate.”
Her shoulders twitched and started his heart again.
She straightened, her face pale as milk. “Knocked... the breath...”
“You’re not hurt?”
She shook her head as she inhaled.
Ay, gracias a Dios. He probably should let her recover at her own speed but he couldn’t help himself. The hell with it. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She trembled, the aftermath of an adrenaline spike. He felt her heart racing against his chest. Planting his feet, he held her until both their hearts calmed.
“We did it, darlin’. We’re on the ground.” He kissed the top of her head.
Looking up, she smiled. “You did it, Max. I knew you would.”
“No, we. You saw we were off course, and we might not be here if you hadn’t slugged that bastard when you did. A hell of a swing, darlin’.”
Her cheeks pinked and she licked her lips. “Thanks. Playing ball with Dad and my brother finally paid off.”
A new threat around every turn, yet not once did she complain. Not once did she back down from her goal. He ached to kiss her luscious lips. Hell, he ached to do more than kiss her. Dammit. “What did you hit him with?”
“Some metal piece from the fuselage. Never thought I’d be glad for the shaky condition of Julio’s colibri.” Worry filled her eyes. “Julio?”
“Gone before we landed. There was nothing we could do.”
“I should be sorry, but I can’t work up sympathy. He was part of the plot to kill us.”
“Yeah. Somebody knew we chartered his plane. Somebody with money paid Rufo well. A toss of the dice who bought him. I shouldn’t have let the bastard come along.”
“You’re not clairvoyant. And he might’ve pulled the gun on us if you’d tried to stop him. It would’ve made no difference.” She frowned. “But why fly all this way? Why not just rob us and shoot us at the airfield?”
“I get the feeling we were supposed to disappear. Totally. And we nearly did.”
“Should we use the helicopter radio to call for help?”
Max shook his head. “No way, I trust nobody. How would a rescue party get to us? I’ll call Mara, fill her in. Then we’re back to Plan A.”
“Plan A?”
“Trek through the jungle. We have eight days to make sixty, seventy miles. Plenty of time.”
Kate grinned, her stiff cheeks indicating her optimism was forced. “As you said before, as long as nothing goes wrong.”
***
Kate’s shoulder ached where she’d fallen in the cargo hold. She bruised easily and this one would be a doozy but she had no time for pampering. She collected her camera bag and the GPS as Max shoved at the sliding door.
His praise for her actions echoed in her head. Thank God she’d found a way to help. But he was wrong. He was the one who’d saved their lives. She’d never forget the sight of him, muscles bulging, features taut and dark, as he grappled in the open doorway. After this, she could trust him to keep her safe in whatever situation came up. For an instant their eyes caught, and the air between them crackled with heat. Her pulse sped up.
Chalk it up to the danger, she told herself. The attraction between them must remain in the past. She had to drag her gaze away.
Max cleared his throat. “Sliding door’s jammed. We’ll have to exit the co-pilot’s side.”
As she clambered out behind him, she averted her eyes from the dead man.
Heat and the fecund smells of vegetation immersed her. Humidity pressed down on her and soaked her in sweat. Jungle growth encircled the copter, trailing vines and bright blossoms. Dense foliage blotted out the sky.
“We can’t just leave Julio like that,” she said, accepting Max’s help in pushing through vines and creepers toward the cargo-hold door. All around them, birds squawked and insects droned.
“He would’ve left our broken bodies for the jungle scavengers to gnaw on.”
She shuddered at his matter-of-fact tone, the voice of a warrior who had faced death before. “But Max—”
He raised his hand as if to cup her jaw, but instead stepped back. “We can’t bury him. The limestone ground is like cement and we have no shovel. The best we can do is leave him be and close up the helicopter.”
Bowing to the inevitable, she nodded.
When he wrenched open the cargo door, his Glock tumbled to the ground.
Their gear stashed so carefully in the hold looked shaken and stirred by a tornado. Kate gasped. “Goody, fifty-two pickup.”
Max re-holstered his gun. “Good to know you can see the humor in our situation. Let me do a little recon and then we’ll see what we can salvage.” He punched numbers on his phone as he headed into the jungle. Potty break too, she guessed.
She removed her phone from the camera bag and turned it on. Thank God it had sustained no damage. She’d call Esteban later. Surely the kidnapper would call soon. Maybe he’d allow her to speak to Doug. If they’ve hurt him... She curled her fingers into a fist. Damn, as if she could do anything.
After a private break behind an agave plant, she dragged her pack from the cargo hold and checked inside. Without conversation, jungle sounds seemed louder, encroaching. High in the canopy, a monkey protested their invasion with a staccato, barking call.
Satisfied the contents of the pack were intact, she reached for her tablet. An ominous rattle from inside the case said the electronics hadn’t fared well.
Her stomach clenched. She could do this. She was fit enough, prepared enough. A little discomfort wouldn’t kill her. Nor would a few bugs. She refused to think about the ground that could convulse beneath her without warning. Or about the men who coveted Kizin. And whoever paid Rufo to kill them. And whoever killed Constantino.
When Max returned, she willed herself to relax. She had to stay strong for the trek. He looked tough and sexy and cool, ready to start a new day, not like he’d just wrestled a killer and landed a helicopter in the jungle. How often did he face this kind of danger? Was this just another day working for DSF?
“Mara’s relieved to know we’re okay. She notified Thomas when she saw we were off course. Phone GPS signal’s still strong.” He stowed his phone in its belt holster. “That’s the good news. Bad news is one of Centaur’s thugs was spotted at Heathrow boarding a plane for Cabo Blanco. Name’s Le Noir, a nasty French cuss.”
“First Sedgwick and now this Le Noir. Who’s next?”
“Wish I knew. Le Noir’s probably here to connect with Sedgwick. Mara said Scotland Yard found evidence the Brit owes Centaur big bucks for black-market artifacts. Turning over Kizin may be the payback they demand.” He grinned. “Must steam him big-time.”
She set down the tablet case and drank from her canteen. “But Max, the GPS? Couldn’t the bad guys track us too?”
His dark brows knit as he thought. “A tough call. Requires damned sophisticated technology. Centaur maybe. The identity of their head honcho is a mystery, but the network’s extensive, probably computerized big time. Maybe Aguilar or the general. Not likely the kidnapper can, not if he’s out here off the grid. He’d need more juice.”
The thought any of them would track their position gave her chills, even in this sauna. “Maybe we can disable the GPS?”
“No can do. It’s a chip embedded in the circuits, not a separate un
it. Removing the battery’s the only way. But it’s safer all ’round having DSF track us.”
She absorbed that as she slathered on an insect-repellant-sunscreen combination. Instead of screaming her head off, she went for confident. “Then we deal.”
As soon as she closed up her pack, her satellite phone rang.
Chapter Sixteen
Startled by the alien noise, a parrot squawked and darted away into the trees. Max dropped his pack and took out his phone. His heart beat with slow, hard thumps, the way it always did at the start of a battle.
Dammit, Kate was making no move to pick up her jangling phone. She stood statue still, eyes wide with shock as she stared like a trapped jackrabbit at the fucking thing.
Unlikely DSF would phone her directly. Before leaving Cabo Blanco, she’d spoken to her mother and Morales. Could be either of them. But Max’s gut said this was the kidnapper and the timing was right.
In quick strides, he closed the several feet between them, grabbed up her phone, and pressed it into her hand. “Kate, darlin’, you have to answer.”
The ringing or the vibrations must’ve reached her because she blinked and shook her head as if to clear the fog. Her hand closed on the phone.
“You okay? Can you talk if it’s him?”
“Yes, yes. I’m okay. I can do it.”
He nodded encouragement. “If it’s the kidnapper, give me a thumbs-up. Keep him talking. You know the drill.” He punched numbers on his phone. They’d gone over the strategy for when the fucker called. What to say, every detail. But reality was damned different from planning. Being faced with actually talking to her brother’s kidnapper must’ve grabbed Kate by the throat.
Sinking onto her pack as if her legs couldn’t hold her, she drew deep breaths. “It’s a blocked number.” She rotated the antenna and pushed OK. “H-hello. Who’s this?”
Stepping out of the caller’s earshot, Max reached Mara just as Kate gave him the go signal. Her hand shook but her chin was firm, her gaze steady and locked on his. He smiled back.
“Hey, gorgeous, you finding this signal?” He pitched his voice just above a whisper.
“Hold on, big guy.” Clicks and humming came through as Mara worked computer magic.
Shit, yeah, he had to give her time. Too wired to stand by, he crossed to kneel beside Kate so he could hear the kidnapper.
“Yes, of course I have Kizin with me,” Kate said into the phone.
“Tell me where you are. We must meet.”
The accented voice was muffled. Male or female, hard to be sure. The accent could be Spanish, maybe French. Fucking Le Noir? That made no sense, unless he was calling from Cabo Blanco. But why would Centaur’s man want Kate to go to K’eq Xlapak? Stow that for later.
At Kate’s frown, Max shook his head. Pantomimed stretching a big rubber band.
“Oh, dear, I don’t know exactly where I am,” she said. “I’m relying on my guides. I could ask them, but you probably want this kept secret.”
Gotta love the helpless-female act. Max bit his lip against a grin. If this bastard had seen her whacking Rufo, he’d never buy the performance. Hell of a woman.
“No, no, do not ask,” the caller hurried to say.
“We started on the trail a few hours ago.” She looked to Max and shrugged as if to say she was winging it. “Maybe if you tell me how far away you are?”
“I will find you. Good—”
“No! Don’t go.” Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths. Her gaze clung to Max’s as if the connection could keep her from falling over a precipice. Her hand tightened on the phone. “Please. I’ve dealt with you in good faith. I’ve come to Costa Verde with the statue as you instructed. I’m trekking through the jungle. I’m prepared to trade Kizin for my brother. Now you must act in good faith. I need to know Doug is alive and unharmed. Put him on the phone. You have to let me talk to him.”
Click. The kidnapper had disconnected.
Kate squeezed her eyes shut. “He’s gone. What if my... Doug— Damn them!”
To hell with professional distance. Max pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. She felt damn good against him, even muttering cuss words into his shirt. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “You did great. Kept him on a long time. He might not be wherever he’s holding your brother. Or he didn’t expect your demand and had no response. He’ll call again. Don’t let this throw you.”
She raised angry eyes and nodded. Backing away, she flailed her arms as if in frustration.
At Mara’s voice calling his name, he lifted his phone. “Anything?”
“Not enough time to get an exact location. I’m monitoring all the satellite phone signals in the general area of the temple. Six phones there—probably the archeological crew—a handful more in nearby villages. Three phones were active the past several minutes. Now if you’d only ask the guy for his number, this’d be a whole lot easier.”
“Damn, I didn’t think of that. He’ll call again. Thanks, gorgeous.”
After disconnecting, he relayed the situation to Kate. “And I won’t tell you not to worry, but it’s not all bad. This phone call was a step closer to locating the kidnapper. Mara will pinpoint him next time and Del Rio can move in. Your brother will have to face up to what he’s done but that makes no difference to the mission. We’ll get him out of there. I promise.”
He crossed mental fingers.
***
Two hours later, Kate stretched her sore back and mopped sweat from her face. They’d assembled what was left of their gear. The tent and packs with the clothing and food survived intact. Both tablets had been tossed around the hold. Their electronics were as dead as Julio.
They’d left unnecessary items like their formal wear and her cosmetics in the truck. Might as well count those for lost too. She still had Kizin and the essentials.
“You set to head out?” Max had retrieved his smaller pistol and restored it to his ankle holster. He hitched on his pack, looking ready for anything.
And she’d better be ready too. Going for perky, she said, “Got your machete ready, pal?”
“I can do better than that. This gap in the trees is part of a Maya sacbé.”
“Another limestone trail.” Indeed they were all over the place. And they all led to K’eq Xlapak. She grinned. “Kizin must be guiding us.”
“I’ll take whatever help the little guy wants to give,” he said. “This sacbé hasn’t been used much so it’s narrow and rough but passable.”
She pulled her ponytail through the hole in the back of her cap. She stuffed the camera case with its precious cargo inside her backpack and hooked on her canteen. Her boots hadn’t left the closet since the last Anasazi dig, but they still fit comfortably. Although her feet felt good, granny knots tied up her stomach and her head and eyes ached.
“Nice boots. Made an effective weapon.” Max’s features were set in stone beneath his khaki cap, but his voice held a hint of approval. Even affection. “Pack not too heavy?”
“I can manage.” Her pack contained only her personal items and some of the food. She couldn’t complain about Kizin’s heavy weight. Max carried most of their supplies.
“I can tote that camera case for you.”
“I won’t burden you anymore than I already have.” She summoned a confident air. “A few days and we’re there. We’ve almost made it.”
What might have been a smile lifted the corners of his mouth and then vanished. “Almost doesn’t cut it. This from the woman who almost did a swan dive from a helicopter. You do know we’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Max, we’re not even in the woods yet.” The lift of his eyebrows told her he didn’t buy her flippancy. Tough. Bravado was all she had. At the sight of their path disappearing into tangled growth, the granny knots tightened. She tried to swallow but cotton wads filled her mouth. The jungle was a green wall but pungent with sun-heated rocks and overripe fruits. Monkeys chattered overhead. Maybe this trek wouldn’t be s
o hard after all. Tell yourself that, Katherine.
Her heart raced as something else hit her. “We could have two or even all three rivals for possession of Kizin on our trail.”
He spat out an expletive in Spanish. “All three? ¡Qué lío! And Le Noir. A mess if they all show up.”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking but decided to play along. “Plus bandits. Never mind. I’ll protect you.”
His dour expression morphed into a wide grin. “We have the advantage.”
She felt a real smile curve her lips as she understood. “Unless they can use GPS to track us, they don’t know where we are, thanks to our detour.”
“Never thought I’d be grateful to our hired killers.” He gave her a slow, sexy wink. “Okay, Lara Croft, time to hit the trail.”
Feeling less like a Tomb Raider and more like Dorothy on the road to Oz, Kate marched along the jungle trail behind Max, the rocks crunching beneath her boots.
Jaguars and scorpions and snakes. Oh my.
Max had used the coordinates from the helicopter instrument to pinpoint their location on his map. All they had to do was head southwest to reach K’eq Xlapak.
The trail was level enough but rough and not straight, like most Maya roads. Perhaps to deter the invading Aztecs, this overgrown sacbé zigged and zagged like an alpine highway.
She did have Max to lead the way. The only drawback was that his backpack and all its attachments completely hid his fine backside from view. All she could see of him was below his knees. Plus she didn’t like being back here by herself. Enough of that. Most places the trail was wide enough for two. Stretching her legs, she caught up to him.
As they trooped onward, she drew from him the incident in Kabul he and Devlin had mentioned at Dulles. They’d visited an open-air market, where a pickpocket lifted a woman’s money. Max tackled the thief and returned the money. No big deal, he insisted. Kate knew better. She related some experiences from her summer digs in Arizona. To her delight, he asked probing questions about the ancient pottery and customs the group uncovered.
On Deadly Ground (Devlin Security Force Book 1) Page 15
