The cabin door opened bringing Jackie out of her mild trance. She glanced at the sturdy, thick door and saw Pinto walk onto the porch while wrapping an old blanket around her shoulders. She closed the door behind her and subconsciously shivered.
“It’s freezing out here,” Pinto announced and tightened the blanket around her. She glanced at Jackie and immediately fidgeted, uncertain what to say to her. Pinto attempted to make light of their current situation. “Is the outhouse vacant? No snakes, spiders, or raccoons?”
Jackie managed a tiny smile while wearily placing her cheek on her knees. “I make no promises.”
An outhouse would actually be an improvement. They were sharing a co-ed tree behind the cabin. Pinto joined her on the steps, unraveled the blanket from around her, and placed the excess over Jackie’s shoulders.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to sleep again,” Jackie replied with a sigh.
Pinto fidgeted while staring out at the large field. There was an odd silence before Pinto finally spoke. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now,” she announced gently. “I just wish there was something I could say or do to make it all better.”
“After everything that’s happened--” she started then fell silent.
“It’s okay, Jackie,” Pinto announced and cast a quick look at her. “Let it out. Say what you’re feeling.”
Jackie laughed softly and looked away to keep from crying. “You don’t want to hear what I’m feeling,” she replied. “It would be laced with profanity, and then it’d escalate to destroying things.” She groaned and held her head. “It’s times like these I need Zack most. We’d spar for an hour sometimes more and wear each other out until we were completely exhausted. Now he’s the source of my anger.” She groaned and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been trying to understand what happened, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“How did he go from being dead to trying to kill you?” Pinto interjected.
“Exactly.”
“I can’t believe he’s alive,” Pinto remarked while shaking her head. “I didn’t see any of it, but I’m sure I still would find it hard to believe even if I had.” She looked at Jackie and appeared curious while tilting her head. “Did he say anything?”
Jackie sank into thought, although the incident had already played out a million times in her mind. “It was almost gibberish,” she replied. “He called me princess. He knows how much I hate being called princess. Then he said something like if I didn’t stay out of his way, I’d go down like ‘Old Marge’.”
“But you said he tried to kidnap you,” Pinto reiterated. “That doesn’t make any sense. He was the one crossing your path. Why was he telling you to stay out of his way?”
“Weird, huh?” Jackie sank back into thought. “Actually, he said, ‘listen carefully, princess’.”
“Is that important?”
Jackie was no longer listening to Pinto and remained deep in thought. “Cross my path, and you’ll go down like ‘Old Marge’,” she remarked gently more to herself.
Pinto stared at her. “Jackie?”
She removed the blanket from her shoulder and turned on her hip to face Pinto. “Listen carefully,” she quoted Zack with a strange enthusiasm. “Old Marge.”
Pinto stared at her and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“It was code!”
“Code? Code for what?” Pinto suddenly asked. “Jackie, he tried to abduct you. He shot Monroe. I’m not sensing some encrypted message here. I’m seeing a man who went over the edge and tried to kill his friends.”
“You said you wished you could help,” Jackie announced as if she hadn’t heard a word Pinto said and sprang to her feet. “You can help. When the guys get up, tell them I had to check on something. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Pinto appeared horrified while staring at her as she jumped to her feet as well. “Jackie, no,” she gasped.
“This is important.”
“People are trying to kill you,” Pinto suddenly proclaimed. “I can’t let you go.”
Jackie gave her a knowing smile. “Do you honestly think you can stop me?”
“Well, I,” Pinto began then straightened proudly. “I’ll tell Monroe.”
Jackie folded her arms across her chest and smiled almost sweetly while her eyes told a more devious tale. “You do realize I can fold you in that blanket like a burrito.”
Pinto groaned softly with defeat. “Please, Jackie, don’t go. If something happens to you, I’ll feel responsible.”
“I need answers,” she informed her. “And I think I know where to get them. I can handle myself. I’ll be fine.”
Jackie took off across the field toward the plane, leaving Pinto standing on the porch steps dumbfounded.
She shook her head while watching Jackie disappear across the field. “Beck’s going to kill me,” Pinto moaned, “if Monroe doesn’t do it first.”
†
Jackie’s private plane touched down in the boneyard a little after sunrise that morning, being only a thirty-minute flight from the remote cabin. Although there were still a few shadows remaining surrounding the wrecked and retired planes, she’d at least be able to see anyone lurking around. Jackie carried her assault rifle and wore her double thigh holsters each containing a semiautomatic as well as her back holster containing her tactical batons for added measure. Jackie wasn’t taking any chances. Despite having spent the entire day at the boneyard, she couldn’t deny she was a little less confident strolling through it by herself. She didn’t have any backup; not even Darth, but she needed to know if she was crazy or not. Had Zack sent her an encrypted message? Was he just talking nonsense? Or was it a trap?
She approached ‘Old Marge’ and stared at the familiar plane longer than she’d realized. She hadn’t been inside the plane since the day she crashed it. Anything she wanted from inside was recovered for her. As she approached the missing door, she stared into the darkness beyond the opening. She could still see images of rescue crew removing her father’s body in a black body bag from the wreckage. She refused any medical treatment until he was removed from the plane. Her body shivered at the memory of the worst day in her life. Returning to the plane wreck suddenly seemed like a bad idea.
A moment passed. Jackie drew a deep breath and approached the opening in the side of the plane. She was doing this for Zack. If there was some message in there from him, she needed to find it. She needed an explanation, although she wasn’t entirely sure what she expected to find. How could Zack possibly explain his actions last night? He tried to kill Monroe. He couldn’t possibly have known Monroe was wearing a vest when he shot him. His intent was to kill his friend and former Navy SEAL teammate. Despite her reservations, she entered the wreckage.
‘Old Marge’ was a four-seater, so quarters within the plane were moderately tight. It was amazing how much the plane still looked as it had that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it really hadn’t been all that long. Jackie held her breath then forced herself into the pilot’s seat. As she sat in the seat, every childhood memory of her father teaching her to fly came back to her in a tidal wave. There were so many amazing memories with her father. She gently touched the wheel and could almost feel ‘Old Marge’ beneath her hands. She was a cranky old girl. Jackie glanced at the passenger seat alongside her and immediately saw the bloodstains where her father died.
A chill ran down her spine. The entire horrifying scene played out in her mind like a bad movie. Jackie fought her tears, but it was no use. She sat in the pilot’s seat and sobbed for several minutes. ‘Old Marge’ seemed to groan beneath her, bringing Jackie out of her self-pity. She looked around but realized it was just the plane settling or technically rotting. Jackie drew a deep, shaken breath and attempted to pull her emotions into check. She again looked back at the bloodstained seat and saw something sticking out from the crack. She reached for the piece of paper a
nd pulled it free. Jackie stared at the old photo of the entire team standing around an old bomb from WWII.
She’d seen the photo before in a frame at her father’s house within his office. Zack was sitting on top of the bomb with a devious smirk on his face. There was writing on the bomb that wasn’t actually part of the picture. Something seemed off as she stared at the familiar yet unfamiliar picture. She remembered the writing being numbers, actually, the code for her father’s ‘special’ rifle safe hidden in his study closet. It was the same code she used for her rifle safe. All the guys used the same code so that they could access weapons in case of an emergency at any location. She continued to stare at the picture. The bomb had writing across it along with an old sketched image of Kilroy from WWII. The phrase typically went ‘Kilroy was here’ and included the sketch of a man’s face peeking over a wall. But instead, across the bomb was written ‘Zack was here’.
She stared at the words scribbled across the bomb for a long time, pondering them. She then ran her finger over the writing. Someone had actually written on the photo itself. She knew she wasn’t seeing things. It was Zack’s handwriting! She looked at the back of the photo, but there wasn’t anything on the back. Was it a message? Had it always been there and she just hadn’t noticed it? Did it mean something? No, it wasn’t a coincidence. Zack was in the boneyard last night. He referenced ‘Old Marge’ to her. That meant Zack placed the photo inside her father’s plane. Now she needed to figure out why. Why was he inside ‘Old Marge’? Was he actually telling her to go inside the wreckage last night? She placed the photo in her pocket then searched the plane but couldn’t find anything unusual or newly added. It seemed hopeless.
Jackie realized she’d been gone long enough. Monroe was going to read her the riot act as it was. She needed to get back to the cabin and wait for the rest of the team. For some reason, she suddenly didn’t feel safe anymore. She briefly glanced outside the open doorway of the plane before leaving. As she rounded the torn wing, she was startled to see Mac just a few feet before her. Jackie flung the assault rifle from her shoulder and into her hand with precision and speed. Mac grabbed the barrel of the rifle and kicked Jackie in the side forcing her to drop it. Jackie immediately launched into a series of kicks, keeping Mac from reaching the weapon. Mac blocked several kicks and punches while Jackie escalated her assault on the woman. Mac easily defended herself but didn’t seem interested in a counterattack.
“Enough,” Mac suddenly cried out.
Jackie stopped her assault while remaining in attack position and stared at the woman.
Mac stared back at her while shaking her head. “I just want to talk--”
Jackie punched Mac in the mouth, surprising her. Mac dabbed the blood on the corner of her mouth then eyed Jackie, who didn’t come back for another shot. She easily could have gone for either semiautomatic in her thigh holsters or her tactical batons, but she did neither. She made her point.
“Okay, maybe I deserved that,” Mac remarked.
“Considering the mood I’m in,” Jackie announced while raising an angry brow. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you on sight.”
“Hey, I saved your ass last night,” Mac launched back. “I think I earned a little trust. At least enough to hear me out.” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t start this, and I’ve certainly gotten more than I signed up for.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jackie demanded.
“That means I shouldn’t have gotten involved, and I’m feeling a little guilty over what’s happened with Zack,” Mac informed her and again dabbed the blood on her mouth.
“What happened with Zack?” Jackie suddenly asked. “Were you on Giovanni’s island?”
“Yes, I was there,” she reluctantly replied. “Maybe Sal mentioned he’d seen me.”
“He said you saved his life.”
“More like repaying a debt,” Mac informed her. “I got caught up in the final act. It was my intention to leave before the place went to hell, but I couldn’t leave. Something compelled me to stay.”
“Do you know what happened to Zack when the helicopter crashed?” Jackie suddenly asked, allowing her interest overshadow her distrust of the woman.
Mac slowly nodded and sat on a large, discarded piece of wing. “Yeah, I was there.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Giovanni’s island. Saturday afternoon. One week earlier. Mac maneuvered the speedboat away from the dock and headed past the beach. The sound of a helicopter caught her attention. She looked toward the cliffs in the distance. An old helicopter spun erratically in a circle through the air, buzzing the cliff and flying over the edge several times. Smoke was pouring from the engine, indicating the craft didn’t have long. Mac slowed the boat and watched with surprise then horror. The helicopter disappeared from view, possibly landing safely. Within seconds, a loud banging followed. Had the helicopter crashed? The helicopter again came into view but was now missing its rotors. It hit the edge of the cliff, dislodging large boulders.
Mac could hear the faint sound of gunshots coming from the sputtering craft. The helicopter suddenly tumbled over the cliff and plummeted toward the water below. A man jumped from the falling craft, locking his ankles as he almost elegantly struck the water. There was no doubt in Mac’s mind. That was the plunge of Navy SEAL used to jumping high distances into water. It was Zack! She threw the boat into gear and raced toward the crash site, pausing only briefly as the helicopter exploded. She gave the boat more throttle and continued toward the exploded craft sinking into the water. As she neared, Zack was already pulling himself to shore, his shirt mostly torn from his body. He was bleeding and in bad shape. Mac barely slowed the boat as she lifted the motor from the water and let the craft glide to shore. She no sooner jumped out when she saw men on ATVs racing across the beach toward them.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” she gasped then ran to Zack, who now collapsed on the sand. She attempted to pull him to his feet. “Zack, you have to move. They’re coming for us.”
He didn’t verbally respond but managed to pull himself to his feet. Mac half pulled and half dragged him to the beached boat. She tossed him into the watercraft and pushed it back into the water as the men descended upon them. She could see their weapons. She cursed under her breath while starting the engine and swiftly raced back into the ocean. Once they were safely away from the island, she anchored the boat and checked on Zack’s condition. With his shirt now missing, she could visually assess his injuries mostly cleaned by the salt water. He had a grazed bullet wound to his side, although the bleeding had already stopped and another bullet lodged in his left shoulder. She routed through the boat, found a first aid kit, and sterilized the small scissors within the bag.
Zack was now unconscious, so removing the bullet in his shoulder was less complicated. While he was still out, she found a sewing kit, bent the sewing needle, and stitched both wounds. She skillfully taped bandages over each wound then routed through her hastily thrown together bag and removed a large, worn sweatshirt. She slipped him into the shirt then discarded the bloodied supplies over the side of the boat. Once she had him cleaned up and looking presentable, she weigh anchor, resuming her travels to a lesser-known port in Columbia. If she were lucky, Zack would regain consciousness before they reached port. She didn’t need any trouble with the authorities in Columbia.
†
Back in the present day, Jackie sat on the ground while hugging her knees to her chest and watched Mac as she listened to her story of Zack’s miraculous recovery from the helicopter crash. Considering her knowledge of Zack’s history with Mac, she was surprised the woman risked her life to save his.
“I ended up calling in every favor I had to get him back to the States in his condition,” Mac informed her. “He was awake, but that wasn’t much of an improvement. While I was debating how to contact someone from your team without involving Sal, I saw the news report from Rio.” She hesitated a moment then fidgeted. “When I heard they’d found a woman
’s passport, I couldn’t believe it was Lee killed in that blast. I’d heard she’d gotten together with Ross, and I started putting things together. I knew what I had to do. I called the FBI and asked to talk to Holden. He’d know what to do with Zack.” She frowned. “When I heard about Holden’s accident, I knew something was wrong.” She finally stood and started pacing. “For Zack’s sake, I thought it was best to let everyone think he was dead until I knew what was going on.”
“That was less than a week ago,” Jackie remarked while watching her. “What happened? What changed?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Mac launched with annoyance. “As soon as he was alert enough, he kept bugging me to call you to come for him. After learning Holden disappeared from the hospital, I refused. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with whatever was going on out there.” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I came back from a supply run, he surprise attacked me and took off. Some people I know told me where he was heading. I didn’t know what to do, so I went after him. I couldn’t contact any of you, because I didn’t know how secure phones would be, and I had to find him in case someone was still looking for him.”
“That was probably wise,” Jackie muttered, considering her own situation.
Mac frowned while staring at Jackie. “He must have memory loss. That’s the only thing that makes any sense. I caught up with him earlier yesterday before he found you at the boneyard.” She became animated and slightly enraged. “The fucker nearly killed me! I know he’s not in his right mind, so I’ve been trying to stop him without killing him. I have several non-lethal weapons to take him down quietly, but he’s too clever for me.” She nervously ran her fingers through her mussed hair. “I’m hopelessly outmatched and not sure what to do next.”
“Sounds like you’re further ahead on this than we are,” Jackie remarked then studied her. “Do you know who contracted the hit on my team?”
Outside the Wire Page 11
