Lauren threw off her seat belt and went forward to where John sat. She lightly touched his shoulder so he’d know she was behind him. She studied the screens and found nothing recognizable—blotches of heat mixed with what looked like trees.
“Where are they?” Lauren asked quietly.
“The Scimitar is just now arriving overhead. The fires are going to make their infrared signatures hard to find.”
“Call them on the radio!” Lauren felt helpless, her anxiety climbing, her thoughts turned to the source of strength she’d grown to rely on, and she realized once again that Buck was gone.
“Michael’s been calling since we broke ground.”
Lauren lowered her head. Of course he was. “Where are Janie and Eric?”
“We’re considerably faster than they are, we just passed over them a minute or so ago. Once we find Mr. Nash, we’ll vector the helicopter in for the pickup.”
Lauren glanced down the aisle at Marie, who was looking at her, uncertainty reflected in her young face. Lauren forced a smile; her heart went out to the young girl. Marie was caught in the middle of a firestorm that was not of her making, they all were, and there was nothing any of them could do but wait.
CHAPTER FORTY
Towering far above, shooting up into the atmosphere, the ash generated its own lightning—electrical spider webs exploding within the cloud, the thunder booming above the omnipresent roar of the volcano. In the distance, Donovan could see trees igniting from falling embers.
“Michael! Where are you?” he said into the radio. There was no answer.
“Where are they?” Eva asked.
“I don’t know,” Donovan replied, as he scanned the destroyed buildings. In the rubble, he spotted something he hadn’t expected, the shattered remains of a wooden boat paddle. He grabbed Eva by the hand, and they navigated the fallen trees, working their way away from the road. The terrain sloped away from the buildings, and Donovan found a well-worn path. Fifty yards later they came to a small stream. The gorge was steep; at the bottom, surrounded by sand, the water was moving, tumbling from one pool into another as it surged downhill. There was no sign of a boat.
“With all the burning trees, I think using the river will move us downhill faster than the road. Ready?” Donovan asked as he started down the embankment, still holding Eva’s hand.
She let out a small scream as they slid down into the water. This part of the river was only waist deep, and Donovan held the radio over his head to keep it dry. Together, using a combination of wading, treading water, and floating, they allowed the river to move them away from Atitlán.
“Galileo calling Donovan.”
The transmission was scratchy, but Donovan splashed his way to the rocky shore and stopped. He keyed the microphone. “Michael, you’re weak, but I read you.”
“Donovan! The Scimitar can’t find you. Say your position!”
“We’re south from the Cessna, in a valley following a stream.”
“I copy. John is repositioning the Scimitar as we speak. How far south from the crash site do you think you’ve traveled?”
“Maybe a third of a mile. Right now we’re in a pretty narrow gorge. How far out is Janie?”
“Ten minutes, fifteen at most.” Michael said. “Can you hear the Scimitar? John says he’s following a river.”
“The river’s too loud. We have to keep moving, I don’t think Janie can extract us from here anyway.”
Donovan and Eva pushed back into the river and once again began wading downstream. He kept looking upward, hoping to see either the Scimitar or the helicopter.
“The water is getting warmer,” Eva said. They negotiated a waterfall by staying to one side and gripping the rocks as they carefully stepped down to the next pool.
Donovan hadn’t noticed until she’d brought it up, but it was warmer. He looked out ahead of them. The rocks were wet, but the water level was a good foot lower. The water was not only growing warmer, it was also dropping.
“Eva, we need to move faster.” Donovan looked upstream. “I think we may have a problem.”
Overhead, the high-pitched scream of the Scimitar echoed through the forest canopy, faded, and then circled back around.
“Donovan,” Michael’s urgent transmission sounded over the radio. “You need to climb—get out of the gorge, now! A river of lava is flowing down the ravine.”
Donovan looked up at the nearly vertical rock walls that surrounded them. Climbing wasn’t an option. Upstream, the surging lava had choked off the river at its source. The water level continued to drop dramatically, until all that remained of the river was a smattering of pools. Panicked fish flopped in the sand and mud.
“It’s too steep to climb,” Donovan said as he and Eva began to run. “Michael, how far do we have to go until there’s a place for Janie to lift us out of here?”
“John says that just around the next bend you’re going to come to a cliff. Janie might be able to hoist you out there.”
“Will she get there before the lava does?”
“John says ‘yes,’” Michael replied. “But it’s going to be close.”
The wet mud and sand made it slow going as they moved downhill. Donovan kept looking behind them, expecting to see the torrent of lava that would envelope them. He kept studying the shore, trying to visualize a way they could climb free. All he found was sheer rock and scrub brush growing in the cracks. They’d be lucky if they could get ten feet up the wet rocks.
Up ahead, as they ran, Donovan could see an oval of open sky. The smell of smoke grew stronger and the heavy odor of sulfur filled the air. The sand and mud gave way to rocks, slick with moss and mud. As they neared the cliff, they slowed, walking carefully as they approached the precipice. Donovan grasped Eva by the hand, and with each step, she resisted. He glanced back to see terror filling her eyes.
“We need to get close to the edge,” Donovan said.
“I can’t,” Eva said as her knees started to buckle. She closed her eyes as if to blot out the sight of the drop-off.
Donovan put his arm around her waist and eased her forward. He could feel her entire body tremble, and he remembered her fear of being up in the plane. Being out in the open must be far worse for her, he thought. She was nearly paralyzed when he could finally see over the edge. Donovan gently picked her up and stepped up onto a rock that split the river; now they were higher than the surrounding riverbed, and its surface was dry. The drop was easily a hundred feet. At the bottom were huge boulders amid a shallow pool of still water. If they had to jump, they wouldn’t survive.
“Eva, we’re on a flat, dry rock. I need to set you down,” Donovan said as he carefully lowered her to her feet. She held on tightly as he pulled the radio out of his pocket. “Janie, this is Donovan. We’re as far as we can go.”
“Roger that, I’m five minutes away. We’ll plan to hoist you out.”
“We’ll be ready,” Donovan said.
“John, how far away is the lava?”
“You’ll see it shortly—it’s almost to the last bend in the river.”
Donovan snapped his head around as the first red-hot edge of the molten rock surged, expanding as it coursed down the gorge. As the lava relentlessly moved toward them, they were helpless. They were trapped. He pulled Eva close. They didn’t have much time. He decided at some point he’d jump, taking Eva with him, rather than burn to death.
Eva heard it first and opened her eyes, looking skyward. As Donovan turned, the helicopter came low and fast over the trees, swung steeply out into the valley, then pulled into a hover. Hanging nearly motionless in the sky, Janie guided the helicopter toward the face of the cliff, the hoist line already being lowered.
Donovan watched as the padded sling, looking impossibly small, swung back and forth from the cable. Janie moved sideways, inching the ring closer to where they stood. Donovan positioned himself as near to the edge as he dared. Rotor wash buffeted them both, making conversation impossible, and the ring hung out
in space, ten feet away.
Behind him, instead of pulling away, Eva screamed and pressed herself up against his back. He turned and saw that the lava had picked up speed, now only thirty feet away. Vegetation along the banks of the gorge burst into flames. Looking at the molten rock seared his eyes; the heat was beginning to envelop them as if they were standing too close to a roaring bonfire.
Donovan turned and looked up as Janie banked the helicopter. The leverage she created swung the rescue harness even farther away, and then, just as Janie had planned, the harness reversed course and swung toward him.
“Eva, don’t move!” Donovan yelled as he freed himself from her grip, calculated the arc of the harness, then launched himself over the cliff out into space. His right arm threaded the sling, and his entire body jerked to a stop, swinging high above the valley floor. Instantly, he pumped his legs and used his weight to keep his inertia going, just like Abigail in her tire swing. He spun to face Eva as he was propelled back toward the cliff.
Eva, eyes wide and unblinking, was standing alone, bouncing up and down as the lava reached the rock. Donovan braced himself, swung in, reached around her waist, and plucked her from the ledge. Eva screamed as she was yanked from the rock and swung away from the lava, spinning outward into midair. Clutching him desperately, she buried her face into Donovan’s chest. He could feel her gasping as he locked his hands firmly around her and looked up at the helicopter.
Janie immediately banked the helicopter away to keep them from swinging back into the lava. Donovan breathed in the cool air as they gently spun above the valley. The river of lava was now a bright red-and-orange waterfall plunging over the edge of the cliff. He relished the rush of euphoria at still being alive.
Above him, Cesar began to winch them up toward the helicopter. As they reached the door, Cesar reached out, clutched the cable, and pulled them both into the cabin. He unhooked the hoist line and slammed the door shut.
Donovan lay on his back, spent. His breath came in huge gulps. Eva held him tightly. She sobbed tears of joy, and he pulled her close.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“Donovan!” Janie called out. “I’ve got Lauren on the radio. She needs to talk to you. She says it’s urgent.”
Donovan finished his second bottle of water and secured the empty container. Below them was Guatemala City. The airport was only ten minutes away, the Galileo was already on the ground. He’d spoken to Lauren shortly after Janie had rescued them. He wondered what could be so important. Cesar handed him a headset. He slid it on and found the transmit button. “Donovan here.”
“Hey, we just landed at Guatemala City. Vargas and his men have been here. He was demanding to know where his granddaughter was being held. He threatened Malcolm and Lillian at gunpoint. They had no choice but to tell Vargas where Stephanie had been taken. I think William and Stephanie are in danger, and you can get there faster than any of us.”
“What happened when you called William?” Donovan asked, as Eva began to look concerned and motioned to Cesar for a headset of her own.
“Straight to voice mail,” Lauren replied.
“We’re on our way. Don’t call the hospital. I want our arrival to be a surprise. I’ll keep you posted and have Michael get the Galileo ready to fly us out of Guatemala,” Donovan said, then pushed the button that would allow him to speak with Janie and Eric.
“Janie, did you copy all that?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve already changed course. When I landed earlier, the Centro Medico Hospital, being private, didn’t want to admit Stephanie until William flashed his State Department credentials.”
“Janie, how far out are we?” Donovan asked.
“Eight minutes.”
Donovan watched as Eva began to peel away the gauze covering her wound.
“What are you doing?” Donovan said as he reached out to stop her.
“If we land with a bleeding woman, I promise you they’ll take us straight to where they took Stephanie.”
Donovan nodded and, while Eva made a fist, he ripped off each of his makeshift butterfly stitches until her knife wound was once again bleeding profusely. She pressed it to her chest, to the already blood-soaked material of her blouse.
“Hospital in sight,” Janie said over the intercom.
Donovan double-checked the Glock and once again slid it next to the skin in the small of his back, making sure his shirt and jacket hid the weapon. He looked over Janie’s shoulder and found a modern white building. On the roof was a white circle with a red H painted in the center. Janie expertly set the 412 down in the exact center of the vacant roof. As she powered down the helicopter, a door along the perimeter burst open, and three people in orange vests ran to meet them.
Cesar opened the door and motioned for the medical staff to hurry. Donovan was easing Eva toward the door as a quick exchange in Spanish took place outside, and then Cesar turned, nodded that he’d been successful, and helped lift Eva to the gurney.
“Stay here as long as you can,” Donovan said to Janie. “If they make you leave, circle and be ready for anything.”
Donovan jumped to the concrete and hurried after Eva. A short elevator ride down and the doors opened. They pushed the gurney down the polished floor, and as they rounded a corner, they saw two men in suits standing outside the sliding glass door that led to the emergency department. Donovan recognized them from the hotel—they were Hector Vargas’ men.
The emergency room consisted of at least seven individual cubicles. They were fully enclosed, making the job of finding Stephanie and William more difficult. Eva was whisked into an empty room and the door closed behind them. One nurse began opening cabinets and pulling out supplies the doctor would need to suture the wound closed. The other nurse took Eva’s vitals and placed a compress over her forearm. They both excused themselves and left the room, assuring Eva that the doctor would be with her shortly.
As soon as the nurses left, Donovan stepped out of the room and began reading the charts hanging outside the occupied rooms. He located Stephanie’s cubicle, and Eva followed as he pushed through the door. A woman dressed in scrubs was lying face up on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from her slit throat. Stephanie was on the bed, a cast on her ankle, and to Donovan’s left was Hector Vargas, a knife pressed to William’s throat.
“Stand down, Mr. Nash.” Vargas smiled and increased the pressure of the blade on William’s flesh for emphasis.
Donovan was caught by surprise, furious with himself for not having drawn his own weapon. Eva huddled close behind, and he felt her gently begin to slide his Glock from his waistband.
“Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Nash. I see you brought Eva to me. Thank you. Now, tell me where my granddaughter is, or I’ll kill this old man.”
“We didn’t find her,” Donovan replied.
“Bullshit!” Vargas hissed. “Eva, tell me where Marie is!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eva replied as she gripped the pistol.
“Eva, I’ve done what you asked. I eliminated everyone you wanted. Now tell me where my granddaughter is being held.”
Donovan felt her reach all the way around his waist with her left arm; the firing angle took William out of the equation. Donovan flinched as Eva fired, the bullet ripping into the wall next to Hector’s ear. He ducked as Eva fired a second shot that found flesh, and Hector doubled over, holding his ribs. Donovan kicked the knife away as Eva planted a foot, then kicked Hector as hard as she could in the jaw. Hector’s head snapped backward and he hit the floor.
Eva aimed the Glock at Hector’s temple and steadied herself, as if she wanted to relish the moment.
“Vargas’ men will have heard the shots.” Donovan was the first to reach Stephanie, and he pulled her from the bed. “Eva, we’ll deal with him later. Get the door. We need to get out of here, now!”
Eva led the way with the Glock. She burst from the treatment room and the hospital staff backed away. Vargas’ men had just pus
hed through the outer doors, then stopped at the sight of Eva.
“Fire escape to the roof,” William said as he led them toward a stairwell marked “salida.”
Donovan ignored the pain radiating down his back as he took the stairs, carrying Stephanie. He heard two sharp reports as Eva fired the Glock, then slammed the door behind her.
William flung open a door, and daylight flooded the gloomy stairwell. As they burst out onto the roof, Donovan heard the welcome sound of Janie spooling up the turbine engines. Behind him, Eva fired off two more rounds down the stairs, telling him that their pursuers were coming fast. Gasping in the thin air, Donovan handed Stephanie to Cesar, then turned around to help William into the helicopter. He waved to Eva to hurry as she ran headlong for the chopper and leaped into the open door.
The engines reached full power, and Donovan could feel the skids getting light just as the door swung open and three men, automatic weapons at the ready, rushed out and fired at the helicopter. As he ducked, Donovan saw that the man in the middle was Vargas.
Slugs ripped through the aluminum skin of the helicopter, and Janie spun the machine in midair to try to make a smaller target. Donovan silently urged her to fly them away from the deadly barrage of bullets. They seemingly hung in space, not moving, when a shadow flashed across the cabin. Donovan snapped his head up just in time to see an object coming in high and fast from above. The Scimitar impacted at a steep angle directly between the helicopter and the gunman; black debris peppered the doorway, followed by a brief fireball that enveloped what was left of the drone, and then quickly burned itself out.
“Janie! Set us back down!” Donovan yelled forward, grabbing his Glock from Eva. The moment the skids touched, he jumped from the helicopter and picked his way through the debris as fast as he could. Two charred bodies marked what was left of the gunmen. Donovan slowed as he reached the heavy fire door that opened into the stairwell. He took a deep breath and flung it open, Glock at the ready. Splayed on the steps below him was Hector Vargas, wounded but still alive. Hector’s eyes narrowed into hate-filled slits as he recognized Donovan.
Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) Page 27
