by Desiree Holt
He had long since passed the point where the pain of his wounds was foremost in his mind. Doctors had said it was possible to cross that threshold where pain was so constant it lost its agonizing edge. But that’s where he was now. His body was hot with fever and he was sure infection was rampant in his system. He was at the end of his resources.
But the very last thing he could do was resist giving them information. Whatever they did to him, he would simply close his eyes and will himself to die.
Mark! I’m so close now. Promise me you’ll hold on a little longer.
His head jerked up. Tidbit?
We’re almost there. Don’t give up now.
He waited but she was gone. But her sweet, sweet voice and her pleading message were enough. Somehow he’d keep it together until help arrived. Because now he believed it was finally on the way.
* * * * *
“Jesus Christ.” Frank Ryan looked at the information on the computer screen, refusing to believe what he was seeing.
“That’s not possible,” John Gregorio said. “I have a hard time believing this.”
“Yeah, me too. But there it is.” He turned to the young soldier who’d been doing the work for them. “Thanks, son. I think you’d better leave us alone now. And remember…”
“I know,” the young man said. “Zip the lip or it’s Easter Island.”
“Or worse,” Gregorio growled.
“Yes, sir. Sirs.” He saluted and let himself out the door.
The two men couldn’t take their eyes away from what they were reading. Ryan scrolled up and down on the screen, they switched back and forth between the documents the hacker had found for them. The magnitude of the situation frightened them both.
“We’re lucky we aren’t in World War Three because of these men,” Gregorio said at last.
Ryan nodded. “For men in this position to be consorting with the worst arms dealer in the world is worse than treasonous. The damage they could do scares the shit out of me.”
“What made you start him off on this path, anyway?”
“You told me Winslow badgered you into giving Faith Wilding an appointment but ordered you not to give her any information. Certainly we wouldn’t tell her anything classified but this would have been a great chance to get some favorable publicity about what our mission is. Why did he want you to kill it?”
“Because he sensed she had an agenda that was less literary and more personal, is my guess. He didn’t want anyone digging into what happened to Mark Halloran and his mission.”
Ryan swallowed the last of the cold coffee in his cup, made a face and threw the empty cup in the trash. “He’d have been a lot better off if he’d tried to work with you on this and figured out how to turn her off.”
“I don’t think anything could have turned that woman off. She was like a dog with a bone. I knew the minute she walked out of here all hell would break loose.”
“And now she’s got Phoenix involved.”
Gregorio smiled. “Oh, they’d have been on it anyway. I knew once Rick got his brother out of the hospital they’d go in for Halloran.”
“I wish them luck.” He cleared his throat.
“Well. We have to do something with this. I’d call McLean myself but it will be better coming from the head of JSOC. He always swears his people are thoroughly investigated and vetted. And look who handles that. Ray Frost, his chief of staff. This will certainly give him something to think about. Along with a bad case of indigestion.”
“No kidding. Right now the Department of Defense is fielding enough crap as it is.”
“All right, then. I’d better get JSOC on the line. Can you get me a ride out of here? They’ll want to talk to me in person. And we need to find out who’s in the field doing the dirty work.”
The major picked up the phone. “Consider it done.”
* * * * *
The Bell Ranger had made a one-eighty turn and they’d been flying back into the rising sun for about twenty minutes now.
“All right, folks.” Dan made sure he had the attention of everyone in the cabin. “Five minutes to go. I wish we were doing this at night rather than daylight but we take what we can get. Everyone ready?”
They all nodded in turn, checking their gear and their firepower one last time.
“All set, Faith?” Rick leaned close to her. “This is it.”
“I’m ready.”
“Just do what I tell you to, okay? Got your earpiece in?”
She nodded.
“Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good. We’re dropping about five miles from where we think the camp is. We’ll be able to pinpoint things as we get closer. And we’ve got top of the line equipment to read heat signatures, so we know where everyone is. Just stay behind me.”
“Got it.”
The five minutes seemed to rush by. Then Rick was urging her onto her feet and toward the door that Mike had opened. The helicopter went into hover mode and one by one the men dropped to the ground in a crouch.
“Your turn,” Rick told her. “I’m right here with you. Remember to bend your knees.”
They were less than ten feet above the ground but to Faith it might as well have been five miles. She felt the pressure of Rick’s hand on her shoulder, gathered her courage and pushed herself out of the doorway. She remembered about her knees, bending down to a deep crouch. Nevertheless she landed with a thud that jarred every bone in her body and shook the fillings in her teeth. Knowing she didn’t have time to worry about aches and pains, she tucked herself and rolled when she hit the ground as she’d seen people do on television and in the movies.
“Good girl.” Mike was pulling her to her feet and checking her over for broken bones.
Then Rick was beside her, waving off Ed and the chopper. “Okay, Faith. Time to do your thing with Mark. Can you make it work?”
“I’ll try.”
They had landed in a tiny area of waving grasses surrounded by tall trees with wide trunks and plants so thick it was impossible to see where one ended and the other began. The scent of the river drifted in the air.
“The Amazon,” Rick explained. “We’re five or six miles from it but the scent still carries on the wind. Do you need me to do anything?”
“No. Just… If I can be by myself at that tree over there?”
“Go ahead. We’ll keep watch.”
She leaned against the rough bark of the tree, brushing at the insects crawling up and down the trunk. She used an old trick to center herself, pulling down a mental window shade to blot out everything else. Then she called up the image of Mark’s face, the one she’d used building her shields.
Mark!
Silence for a moment, the heavy pressure she’d felt last night—was it only that short a time ago? The creeping miasma of evil began to wrap itself around her.
He is dead. You are done.
No! She wouldn’t believe it.
Dead, the voice repeated.
Aunt Vivi, she called out. I need you now. As if they were standing right next to her, she felt the invisible energy shield from the women thousands of miles away. The air vibrated with it. Almost shimmered with it. Then she brought up the image of the circle, the parabolic reflectors, the stone wall and the tiny opening where only Mark could get through.
Again she felt the evil pressing in on her, nearly suffocating her but she concentrated as hard as she could on the circle of protection, drawing on the energy of the women. Little by little the battle of wills turned in her favor and pressure eased.
Mark! she tried again.
More silence.
At last, very faintly, Tidbit…same weekend too.
Oh, God, you’re alive! She felt tears running down her cheeks and swiped at them impatiently. We’re here. Right near you. Not far away.
Here?
In the jungle. Phoenix is with me. We’re coming to get you.
She waited out what seemed another interminab
le silence.
How…find me?
Later, when we have more time. I need your help.
Funny…me…help…
No. Listen. We’re about five miles away. Can you give me any clue about your location? Anything we can spot?
This time the pause was longer and she was afraid she’d lost him.
Chopper…outside tent…landed here…
She tried to keep the exhilaration out of her voice and remain calm for him. Okay, okay. That’s good. I’ll tell them. Keep listening for me, my darling.
She motioned to Rick.
“Something?” His own eyes held a flicker of excitement.
“A helicopter. He said one landed in the camp. Outside a tent. Maybe the one where they’re keeping him.”
Rick unclipped the remote microphone from his belt. “Ed? We need you to do a circumference search for a helicopter,” he whispered. “It should be in a clearing where the camp is.” He raised his eyes at Faith and she nodded. “Yeah. Where the camp is.”
Faith had a hard time controlling her impatience while they waited for Ed to contact them. She didn’t know how the men could stand so calmly but she guessed it was years of training. She forced herself to be just as quiet but her heart was racing.
She held her breath as Rick lifted the comm unit to his mouth again.
“Okay. Got it. Thanks.” He unclipped his tiny GPS unit and punched in some numbers. “Come on.”
He took Faith’s arm and moved toward the other three men. “Apparently a bird landed in their camp just recently. Ed spotted it from the air and gave me the coordinates. Let’s go.”
The trek through the jungle was nerve-racking. The men moved like silent ghosts, barely rustling the foliage. Faith tried her best to do the same while still keeping up the pace. Periodically they would stop, listen, then move out again. Five miles had never seemed so long to her.
At the moment she was sure she’d drop if she had to take another step, they halted. No one spoke. Dan gestured to the others with hand signals. Rick put his mouth close to her ear. “We’re close. Go with Dan. I need to take up my position.”
Faith looked at Dan as Rick moved away at an angle. He motioned for her to stand beside him. “We’re going closer. I’m going to put you out of the line of fire. Stay there. If I ask for your signal, you know what to do.”
She nodded.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
And then they were within sight of the camp. Mike pulled out a small pair of binoculars and swept them from left to right.
“Four cabins,” he whispered. “Campsite in the center. Helicopter off to the left next to a tent.”
“Must be where Mark is,” Dan whispered back. He pulled out the tiny instrument that registered heat signatures and swept the site as Mike had done with the binocs. “Yup. He’s there.”
“How many?” Troy asked.
“I count ten, including Mark. Not a large group. Okay. No talking. Everyone ready? Okay, then. Let’s move.”
Dan boosted Faith up into the crotch of a tree where a thick limb jutted out, nodded and moved away from her. From her vantage point she could see the men move out in different directions, so silent if she didn’t know they were there she’d have been unaware of them.
She had no idea where Rick was but he was the sniper so she assumed he’d be someplace up high. Pulling the Glock from her belt, she rammed home a clip and racked the slide. She’d never shot anything but a paper target but she could kill to save her life. Or Mark’s. Holding the gun the way she’d been taught, she sat and waited.
* * * * *
“What was that?” the Wolf looked up from the cup of really bad coffee he was drinking. He couldn’t wait to get shut of this cesspool. This was the last time he let himself be talked into a situation like this, no matter how much money was involved.
“A helicopter.” Escobedo drew on his cigarillo.
“What is it doing here?” The Wolf looked up again. “You don’t think that’s suspicious?”
“Not at all. Helicopters fly over here all the time. You’d be surprised how many people have them.”
“Still. It’s possible someone has found us.”
Escobedo laughed. “And who would that be? The people around here know enough to stay away from me and everyone else minds their own business.”
“If what you say about Halloran and his psychic abilities is true…”
“Pah! True or not, Felix has slammed down a mental shield. In any event, El Capitan is close to breathing his last. When we are rid of him it will all be over.”
“Let’s get to it, then. I must leave shortly.” He dumped out the rest of his coffee and set the empty tin cup on a rock.
“Fine.” He moved into the central part of the camp. “Hola! Time for the morning’s entertainment. Two of you please bring our guest out here to me.”
The two men closest to the tent rose from the log they’d been sitting on and started to get Mark.
Then all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eighteen
At the sound of the first shots Faith flinched and nearly lost her balance but she righted herself quickly, still gripping the gun. From her perch she had a pretty good view of the central part of the camp. She saw the two men heading for the tent pitch forward and fall. Suddenly everyone was running around like crazed chickens. Four men ran from one of the cabins carrying what looked to her like enormous weapons. From the perimeter she heard the sounds of rapid-fire rifles spraying the trees and bushes.
The jungle came alive at the disruption. Leaves rustled in trees and plants as birds of every color flew into the air, squeaking and squawking, flapping their wings in a desperate bid to escape the disturbance. Howler monkeys screeched, their ear-splitting cries piercing notes above the splat of bullets. Faith could hear the sounds of animals crashing through the underbrush as they raced for protection.
A thin, dark man in the center of the camp was screaming at everyone in Spanish, shouting orders to the men, who began indiscriminately spraying the area with bullets. A man dressed in grey slacks and darker grey shirt, an anomaly compared to the jungle attire the others wore, ran from the far side of the camp toward the clearing at the other side, where a helicopter stood waiting. He waved his hand in a circling motion and the rotors began their preliminary whine.
Faith couldn’t spot any of the Phoenix men but she knew they were there by the constant chatter of their guns. She focused on the tent where she was sure Mark was being held.
Hold on, Mark. We’re here. We’re here.
As the man in grey slacks approached the helicopter at a dead run, Faith heard the whistling sound of what she later learned was a rocket propelled grenade and the ’copter exploded in a bright fireball. The man in grey fell back, pushed to the ground by the force of the explosion.
“Oh my God,” Faith screamed, forgetting the order for silence in the shock of the explosion.
“La senora!”
She heard the voice from below her and looked down to see a man raising his rifle toward her. She reacted automatically, barely taking time to think, all those hours on the range paying off. Before the man could fire she aimed the Glock at him and emptied the clip into him. He fell back, his face and chest covered in blood, his finger tightening on the trigger one last time in death, the rifle spraying bullets into the air.
Her heart was racing so fast she was sure it would explode any minute.
Think of him as a paper target. Don’t think of him as a person.
But she suddenly remembered her promise—I’ll get you out even if I have to kill someone. She hadn’t expected it to come to that but she realized with a shock that she’d do it again if need be.
Suddenly Mike was there, giving her a reassuring smile. “Good girl. You’re doing great. Just hang on a little longer, okay? And be sure you put that second clip in the gun.”
When he heard the click of the clip jamming home, he moved away from her toward the camp.
Fa
ith, frozen in her position, trying to make herself breathe, saw bodies everywhere. Only two men were left alive now, the man in grey and the one who’d shouted orders earlier. The latter ran for the tent and moments later Faith felt her heart clench as he dragged Mark into the clearing, a knife at his throat.
She nearly cried out at Mark’s condition—filthy, covered in mud, dried blood everywhere on his body, his face twisted in pain. Before she could stop herself she climbed down from the tree and raced toward the open space. At the edge of the clearing a hand grabbed her and dragged her back.
Troy pulled her next to him and shook his head. “Stay here. It’s all right.”
All right? How could it be all right? They’d come all this way to rescue Mark and now he was about to be killed right in front of her.
“I have your captain,” the man called. “Let me leave here in my vehicle or I will slit his throat.”
The man in grey had moved to stand next to him, a gun in his hand. “I’ll shoot the first person who tries to walk in here,” he warned.
Faith tried to tug free of Troy’s grip but his fingers were like steel. He shook his head again. “It will be all right,” he mouthed. “I promise.”
In the next instant a shot split the air and the man’s head exploded like a ripe tomato. He fell back, one arm still holding Mark but the knife hand thankfully flopped to the side.
“The next one’s for you, Lobo,” a voice called out and in seconds the Wolf was nothing more than a pile of grey material next to the other man.
Now Troy released Faith and she raced toward the clearing, to where Dan was already lifting Mark from Escobedo’s grip and stretching him out on the ground. Faith threw herself onto him, ignoring his injuries, ignoring the blood and dirt, ignoring everything except the fact that this man was alive…and in her arms. Still breathing. Still here.
“Hi, Tidbit.” His words were edged with pain but his mouth tried to turn up in a smile.
“Hi,” she sobbed. “F-Fancy meeting you in a place like this.”
Behind her she heard Dan chuckle, then he reached down to lift her up. “We need to get out of here, Faith. And we need to get Mark on the litter. Come on.”
