He put one hand out behind him, as if to ward us off. “Give me room, here.”
We rocked back on our heels and waited.
Finally, he turned his head toward us. “Got it. He’s alive.”
Beau continued to press his nose under Callie’s arms and snuggle as close as he could get. She cuddled and kissed him, calling him every endearing name in the book.
In the rush that happened afterwards, with medics, stretcher-bearers, and FBI agents swarming around us, throwing blankets over each of us and pushing us away from Sky’s still unconscious form, I hugged Callie, crushing her to me. She felt thin. Way too thin.
“Oh my God, didn’t they feed you, honey?”
She wept against my chest, and I realized that the blanket she held around her shoulders might make her feel more protected. I pulled it up, over her hair, under her chin, and tucked it tight. She shook against me, saying words I barely could make out.
“Sky came back. He’s home.”
I watched the medics loading Sky onto the stretcher. They’d started an IV, and had bandaged his face. I could barely see his closed eyes.
“Is he gonna be okay?” I left Callie for a minute with her trusty companion and scooted over to the medics.
The sandy-haired man who crouched by Sky’s side turned to me. “Hard to say. I think his shoulder’s out of joint. But we’ve gotta get all of you out of here and into that chopper over there, fast. Word is MedicuRX’s coming back with fresh ammo.”
My heart hammered beneath my ribs. It wasn’t over yet.
Chapter 39
The basket swung in wide arcs overhead, with Sky’s long legs barely tucked inside. The wind had begun to sheer, picking up strength and making it more difficult for the helicopter to stay put. Callie and I watched from the doorway of the one remaining building that hadn’t been destroyed while her brother was lifted to safety.
Inside, the building was a marvel of modern science. Broken test tubes, cracked beakers full of carefully labeled samples, curves of plastic piping that ran from one instrument to the other, and walls of stored samples filled the room. Four computers sat along one wall, with phone lines and modems. Except for the broken glass, the clean swept cement floor held no dust, debris, or fuzz balls. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to keep this lab spotless.
I walked Callie over to one of the phones and picked it up. She limped on her left foot, but if I supported her under her arm, she could make slow progress. I hadn’t actually expected a signal, but when a dial tone greeted me, I tried Quinn’s cell. I doubted if he’d be close enough to a cell tower, since they were so few and far between in this region, but I had to try. As expected, I reached his voice mail. I left him a brief and hopefully not-too-scary message, and told him to contact the FBI to find out where they were taking us.
Callie, with her gaunt face and haunted eyes, tugged on my sleeve.
“Marcie. I can’t do it. There’s no way.” She looked out the door and up at the basket that had started to descend again. Beau danced at her feet, whining and pushing his nose against her cupped hand.
The fear in her wild eyes made my throat close. God, she’s scared to death. Riding in a rocking basket in the open air couldn’t be good for an agoraphobic.
“What if I ride up with you? Will that help?” I tucked her under my arm and held her shaking body against me. “We can’t leave Sky alone up there, can we?”
She trembled, then stilled. “You’re right. I have to do it for Sky.”
When the basket returned, the sandy-haired agent tried to encourage Callie to go alone.
“It’ll be better, miss, if you go one at a time. Easier to get you out at the top.”
She shook her head, her eyes now flat and determined. “I can’t. I need my friend beside me.”
“Too much weight, miss.” He turned to me. “No offense, ma’am.”
I started to laugh hysterically, but caught myself. “No offense taken, sir.”
Wait a minute. Why is she miss and I ma’am? We’re the same damn age.
I reined in my indignation and pointed to Beau. “Could the dog go with her? I think it would help.”
“That could work.” He picked up the harness they’d sent down for Beau. “Help me get this on him.”
I bent down and buckled the straps, getting kisses from Beau as I reached beneath his belly to buckle him into the weird harness.
Callie stood rigid, her arms crossed. Suddenly inspired, I took the Valor out of my jeans pocket and dabbed some on my hand. “Come here,” I whispered.
Her eyes lifted to mine, racing with fear. “This is one of Sky’s oils. It’s a special blend, like the one the Roman troops used before battle. Gives you courage. Breathe it in.”
I let her smell my hand. “Deeper. Breathe it in nice and steady.”
She obeyed, eyes closed. “Now, let’s rub it on your temples and the back of your neck.” I couldn’t exactly get it on her heart, which I thought of first, without looking like a letch of some kind.
With tears in her eyes, Callie thanked me in a small voice. She hugged me, and after we buckled her harness, stepped into the basket. Sandy-hair snapped both dog and girl onto the basket, did some other fancy things with the cables and wires, and signaled for the lift to begin. Callie buried her face in Beau’s fur, not once looking. The basket swung wide in the wind, so much that I had to close my own eyes until the agent beside me touched my shoulder.
“They made it. Your turn, miss.”
Miss? A thrill of delirious joy coursed through me. Damn right, I’m a miss.
When the basket returned, I threw my backpack over the side, climbed after it, and let Sandy-hair buckle me in. I shouted over the noise of the chopper overhead. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Agent Green, miss.” He gave me a little salute and spoke into a mic whose receiver coiled into his ear and came out from the back of his jacket. I’d seen them in spy movies and thrillers, but never really understood how those weird little gizmos worked. I figured that when he pressed his earpiece, the mic must’ve become active, because that’s when he spoke. “She’s ready to go.”
How the helicopter had stayed steady in the air while dragging me up through wild winds was a mystery. My stomach lurched with every crazy swing. Just before the top, I lost what would have been my breakfast—had I eaten—but managed to do it when the basket swung sideways, with my head pitched over the side. The world swirled, and it took me several minutes to feel relatively grounded when the basket stopped and was pulled close to the helicopter.
Strong hands went under my arms and shaky knees, carrying me inside. I looked up into a handsome young face and smiled with what I hoped wasn’t sour breath. “Thank you, sir.” I also almost said, “You’re an officer and a gentleman,” because he was so cute and looked just like a young Richard Gere, but I held back.
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
Damn. The ma’am again. “Call me Marcella, okay?”
He smiled with perfect teeth. “Yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, Marcella.”
Callie hunkered between Beau and Sky’s stretcher. She held the hand that had no IV in it. I crawled on my knees over the rolling floor, dragging my pack behind me, and before I knew it, Agent Green had joined us.
He clipped Callie, Beau, and me to the wall near Sky. “Just to keep you from sliding around,” he said with a half smile.
Now positioned between Callie and Sky, I turned to Sky to see if there was any sign of him coming around. I took his hand while Callie grasped my other with her eyes closed. It seemed she was shutting down; she hadn’t uttered a word since I arrived, although an expression of relief had washed through her pretty eyes when I’d made it safely on board.
Beau must have sensed her fear, for he reached up and nuzzled her neck, then curled onto her lap, overflowing like a giant cupcake in a tiny vessel. She leaned down, rubbing her face against his fur, murmuring sweet words to him. The dog practically smiled.
Agent Gree
n worked on Sky. With one great pull on Sky’s arm, he braced himself against the wall of the copter and yanked. Sky’s shoulder popped back into place, thankfully with him still unconscious.
I watched in horror. “My God. Do you do that a lot, Agent Green?”
He shrugged as if he were talking about slapping a bandage on a cut. “Did it all the time in Afghanistan. The guys fell and got all twisted up pretty regularly.”
Both doors were open. Green moved forward to handle what looked like a machine gun on a turret. He strapped himself into a harness attached to the ceiling and sidewalls. Chains of what I later learned were sixteen mm bullets draped out of one side and fed into the other of his sinister looking gun. Gere took the other gun, and both men kept guard with weapons pointed outside. I felt hysteria building again, and couldn’t stop thinking that they were two “G” men, Green and Gere. A hiccup of laughter burst through my lips, so loud it made the G-mens’ heads turned.
“You okay, lady?” Green asked.
So now I’m lady. I guess that’s better than ma’am. “Uh. Yeah. I’m fine.” I turned to find Sky’s sea green eyes looking at me, clear and focused.
“You’ll always be fine, Marcella.” He emphasized the word “fine” as if he were a guy picking up a gal in a club, and then squeezed my hand. “Now help me out of this thing. I don’t need this damned IV.”
His voice sounded steady. I wondered how many times in his army career he’d been wounded, knocked out, and regained consciousness, only to have to grab his gun and run zigzagging through enemy territory to safety.
Callie’s eyes flew open. “Sky?”
My Gere heartthrob was about to turn and tend to Sky, when the noise of several approaching helicopters made all heads turn toward the tail of our chopper.
We couldn’t see, but based on the grim expressions on the agents’ faces, and the way the pilot was speaking rapidly into his headset, I guessed it wasn’t the FBI.
Chapter 40
The G-men glanced back at us, and both did a double take when they realized Sky was awake and sitting up. Gere spoke a terse command, his eyes now refocused to the approaching helicopter on our right. “Stay down. All of you.”
Sky slid off the edge of the stretcher, expertly slid the IV needle out of his arm, repositioned the gauze and tape that held the thing in place originally, and stood, unswaying.
I stared in awe. The guy was a machine. I would have passed out with the first glimpse of the needle.
“I’m ex-army.” He walked steadily toward the agents. “Got another gun?”
He joined them at the door, where they pressed a weapon into his hands. I heard him say something like, “Just like my old M16,” but couldn’t be sure with all the noise. He strapped himself to the wall like the others and handled the weapon with familiarity.
The noise of our own chopper was deafening, but when the gunfire started, I grabbed Callie and held on tight.
Holes erupted around us in the casing of the walls, blasting through with frightening regularity. A siren blared, sounding way too much like a “we’re going down” alarm. But the helicopter remained airborne, and the fight continued.
Green took a bullet in his arm, and the windshield on the passenger’s side of the cockpit shattered, leaving a cracked mess through which the pilot squinted, moving his head rapidly from side to side to get a clear view. Green dropped and scooted back against the bulkhead near the stretcher. He grabbed a roll of gauze from the supply kit, rapidly wound it around his arm, tore it with his teeth, and tucked it in. In seconds, he was back at the door, returning fire.
Callie rocked beside me with Beau, her arms wrapped around me this time. “We’ll be fine, Marcie. Don’t cry.”
I hadn’t realized I was sobbing until she pointed it out. Abruptly, I tried to rein in my out-of-control emotions, scrubbing at my cheeks as if I could turn off the waterworks by the mere mechanical motion of my fingers. My words stuttered out. “I’m s…sorry.”
The copter whirled in reaction to a bad hit in the tail section.
Callie smiled through her own tears with trembling lips. “Why…why are you apologizing, you big dummy?”
I cuddled closer to her and loosed an inappropriate laugh. “I don’t know! I’m supposed to be the strong one.” I hiccupped another sob when a particularly bad round of gunfire ripped along the side of the copter over our heads. I certainly didn’t feel very strong at the moment, and wondered if I’d ever rally my courage again.
Gere motioned for us to get lower, but we didn’t need the reminder.
We looked at each other, at the holes in the wall, and slid down to the floor as low as our harnesses would allow, lying with a big dog spread atop our bodies. I slipped one arm through my backpack strap as if it was my proverbial purse. I didn’t want to lose it, although under the circumstances, losing a bit of food and clothing came a distant second to losing altitude.
Sky had one arm hooked around a pole, still shooting. His face—calm and focused—looked nothing like the young man I’d remembered. He aimed and fired beside Gere, whose sixteen mm automatic gun spit fire in steady bursts.
Callie followed my gaze and whispered close to my ear between rounds of shots. “He’s so much older.”
I nodded and squished tighter against her. Beau’s head lay atop her chest, his body covering as much of her as possible. I stroked his back with my free hand, amazed at his valor. Why wasn’t he cowering on the floor like we were? Instead, he threw himself over us, willing to take whatever punishment was dealt him. My throat tightened, and I felt a fresh round of sobs coming on, this time not from terror, but intense love for this incredible dog.
The explosion of bullets slowed a little, and I almost dared hope that our enemies were either out of ammo or giving up.
It was when our helicopter’s blades whirring suddenly slowed that I knew the reason they’d stopped firing. We were going down.
With an unbalanced whop-whop-whop, we tilted one way, and then the other, falling much too fast toward the pine forest below. The pilot worked controls feverishly—I didn’t dare wonder if they actually responded to his touch.
Callie clutched my hand, the agents and Sky hung on their harnesses snapped to the ceiling and walls. Sky got off one more round of shots. Seconds later, in the distance, the crash and explosion of a downed copter filled the air. I held my breath and waited for the end.
***
How the pilot found the one small clearing that appeared on the mountain was beyond me. Although we crashed, it was a sort of gentle, gliding, somewhat-bumpy-but-not-fatal kind of crash. The blades snapped off on the side of a rock wall, and the body of the copter settled against it with a shudder.
“Everybody out!”
I think it was the pilot who yelled even before we had come to a full stop, but couldn’t be sure because my eyes had squeezed shut just before we scraped ground. In a blur of unsnapping motions, the G-men released Callie, Beau and me.
I quickly slipped into my backpack and let Agent Green pull me out. Gere practically carried Callie, who still limped from her ankle. Beau jumped down by himself and followed us to a spot about fifty yards from the crackling sound of the hot engine. Sky and the pilot followed close behind. Sky carried the first aid kit in his hands. It was then I noticed his face and hands were still blackened from the night before.
“Move farther away,” the pilot shouted. “It’s gonna blow.”
I felt like I was in a spy thriller, and with the fear of being incinerated by a hot blast, my legs moved me faster than seemed possible, considering my state of shock and the ache inside that told me all I wanted to do was sleep to escape the madness.
Sky and Gere both supported Callie, who hopped between them.
After trotting and ducking under low hanging branches, and tripping over roots every so often, we stopped. As predicted, the helicopter burst into an orange fireball, shooting flames high in the sky. It wasn’t long before the rhythmic sound of two helicopters grew
closer.
Agent Green swore under his breath. “Damn. I was afraid they’d come back.”
“Those aren’t the good guys?” I asked, knowing full well my desire for a rescue wasn’t about to come true.
He shook his head. “Hell no. They’re probably looking for survivors. Or bodies. There’s a high price on Mr. Lissoneau’s head. Dead or alive. They’ll need proof to get the reward.”
I hadn’t pictured bounty hunters as part of the equation. MedicuRX had to be desperate. And that desperation had to be fueled by the fact that the new essential oil showed great promise. Or—I hardly dared let myself think it—that it actually worked.
Callie and I exchanged a terrified glance.
She tugged on Sky’s arm. “Oh my God. Sky. We have to get out of here.”
Sky shrugged and fiddled with his M16. “I’ve been running from these bastards for over a week. They’re not getting us, don’t worry.”
Gere and Green didn’t look so confident. The pilot slid out of a pack he’d been toting through the woods and opened it. With a start, I turned to look behind me to reassure myself that I still wore the backpack I’d brought with me in that oh-so-distant time when I had climbed on board the Gator in search of Callie and Sky. Had it really been just a few short hours ago? I touched the canvas sides, strangely comforted.
The pilot, who quickly introduced himself as Agent Bronson, doled out guns and big metallic acorns to the guys. I looked closer, and realized they must be grenades. I also spied another first aid kit, some food rations, and lightweight metallic looking blanket things folded into tiny squares. I remembered something like it from a survival kit I’d seen at Callie’s house when we were little.
The pilot took control. “Lissoneau, you take the women toward that lake. We’re going to keep these bastards at bay. We’ll rendezvous with you when we’ve disposed of them.”
Sky’s face twitched, as if conflicted between wanting to stay and fight and knowing he ought to get us to safety. But good soldier that he was he didn’t question the orders. “Check. I know the terrain. There’s a clear signal by the lake.”
Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set Page 44
