by Jack Mars
“Darwin,” the man said, but the voice was smaller now, less in command than a moment ago.
“Do you understand me?” Darwin said again. “Do you even know who you’re dealing with?”
“Yes. I do. Of course.”
“Then put your men in helicopters, or airplanes, or jeeps, or however you do it. I don’t care. And send them up to the site of that plane crash. Someone very important to me was on that plane. Elaine Sayles was on that plane. You know Elaine.”
“Yes, I do, and I regret your loss.”
“It isn’t a loss yet! It isn’t a loss because you’re going to send men up there right this minute. And you’re going to go up there with them and personally oversee this mission. Elaine might still be alive, and if she is, you’re going to find her and help her and rescue her.”
Darwin paused and took a breath. Elaine. She had been with him for so long, it was like there had never been a time when they weren’t together. She was his kindred spirit. No one in this world understood him as completely as Elaine. The idea that she might be gone… It hurt. It was going to take a lot to get in touch with and process that loss.
But the anger... The anger was easy to process.
“The man who took her, I want him too. I want him dead. And I want his head, here, delivered to me, on a plate.”
This was good. This was right. These were the correct instructions. Medieval people knew more than modern people about the way to do things, the way to fix things. The way to make this right was to have that man’s head. Not figuratively, not as a metaphor for something else, but to have his actual, physical head here, cut off so Darwin could look upon his agonized face.
“Do you still understand?”
“Yes. Yes I do. And if the girl is there, and alive?”
Darwin shook his head. The girl was what had caused all this. Taking that girl had set these events in motion. Zorn. If Jeff Zorn hadn’t owed him all that money, none of this would have happened.
“Darwin?” the voice said.
“Just kill her,” Darwin said. “Get rid of the body. I never want to see her again.”
“Yes,” the voice said.
“Keep me informed of your progress,” Darwin said.
“Of course.”
Darwin hung up. He took a sip of his drink, then another. He stared out at the night for a long moment. Even the night was wrong. Usually, the lights on the grounds here were muted, and he could see the stars, and maybe the moon, and the way it played on the water far below.
Now there were bright lights on all over the property. Spotlights were constantly sweeping the dense foliage at the edge of the grounds. He could not see the stars, or the sea. It was awful.
He picked up the phone again. He took a deep breath. There were people in the real government, the American government, who he was never supposed to call. These were people who were too high up now, old friends who’d had to distance themselves. The vice president was one such person, but there were others.
Darwin knew what they thought of him. He wasn’t a fool. They thought he was the dirty one, the sick one, the untouchable. They stayed away because he was the monster in the closet. But if that’s what he was, what did that make them?
He was their past, and they knew it. He was the things they could not hide from themselves. He was what they saw when they looked in the mirror.
There were channels set up for him to communicate through. It was indirect, it was frustrating, but it worked. When he needed help, there was help available. There had to be. Sometimes, Darwin King was a crisis that had to be contained. He knew that about himself as well.
He called the operator and got an outside line. He dialed a number and waited while the call traveled.
A voice picked up, a man’s voice. Had he been asleep?
“Hello.”
“Do you know who this is?” Darwin said.
“Of course I know who it is. The phone tells me who it is. What can I do for you at this time of night?”
Darwin thought about it for several seconds. This call could be premature. Everyone on that plane might be dead. But then again, they might not. There were loose ends out there, and they might very well need to be snipped off.
No. It was the right time to make the call.
“I may have a problem,” he said.
CHAPTER FORTY
Time Unknown
Location Unknown
Honduras
She was alive.
Charlotte opened her eyes. It was dark here, so dark that for a moment, there was no difference between having her eyes open or closed. She could not see details, but certain differences began to emerge.
Ahead and to her right, sparks began to shoot out of something. The colors were dazzling, in red and orange and yellow and blue, and when she blinked, they left swirling imprints on her retinas.
The sparks made a sizzling sound, like bacon and eggs cooking, which mixed with a light drumming sound happening above her head. It was a pattering, like someone tapping their fingers on a thick table. Within that sound, she heard another, the sound of water dripping somewhere. The two sounds came together to create an image in her mind. It was raining outside.
And that meant she was inside. She was inside the crashed airplane. She started, her body jolted by the memory of it.
A white light appeared, beyond where the sparks were shooting. The light swept around, moving from place to place on the floor. It was a flashlight, which meant there was a person attached to it.
“Hello?” she said.
“Charlotte?” a male voice said.
“Yes.”
She was definitely Charlotte, if there had ever been any question.
The white light came closer, and a man materialized behind it. He was the man from before, the tall man who had rescued her.
“Luke?” she said.
“Yes. I’m Special Agent Luke Stone. I work for the FBI Special Response Team. There isn’t going to be a quiz. I’m just reminding you so you know you’re in good hands. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Are you hurt?” he said.
She shook her head gently. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure. My head hurts a little, I guess. But other than that, I don’t feel any pain.”
She could barely see him behind the light. He seemed to be sweeping her body with it. “Good,” he said. “But if you feel any pain, if anything sore gets worse, you have to tell me right away. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He held something out to her. “Take these.”
She took them and held them up to the light. They were a pair of pretty green shoes, flats, almost like sneakers. Good for walking, probably. She remembered that her own feet were bare.
“Try those on,” Luke said. “You’ll probably need to undo your seat belt.”
She looked at the shoes again. Green like the shoes Elaine had been wearing. Elaine wore green a lot. Charlotte had never seen Elaine wear anything but green.
“These are Elaine’s shoes.”
“Yes.”
“Is Elaine…”
“Dead?” He nodded. “Yeah. She won’t need the shoes anymore.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything. Her first instinct was: Good. That was good. But things were more complicated than that. Charlotte didn’t wish anybody dead, not even someone as cruel as Elaine. The amount of people who had suddenly started dying was hard to accept.
They’re dying because of me.
“It looks like she died in the crash,” Luke said. “She didn’t have a seatbelt on and got thrown around. They’re not kidding when they tell you to wear your seatbelt.”
“She was handcuffed,” Charlotte said. “She couldn’t fasten a seatbelt.”
He had handcuffed her.
He nodded again. “I know. That happens. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Elaine played a lot of stupid games in her life. We’re not going to worry about it right now.”
“The pilot…�
�� Charlotte said.
She could just picture him. He had given her his clothes. Well, Luke had made him, but he seemed cheerful enough about it. He had been flying the plane in his underwear.
“He’s gone,” Luke said. “The cockpit is totally gone, and he was in it. The plane came apart. We’re lucky to be alive. Try those shoes on, will you? There are people coming up the hill toward us, and I don’t think they’re friendly. We need to get moving.”
She reached down and slid a shoe on her right foot. She yanked it all the way on. It fit okay, a little bit snug.
“Where are we going to go?” she said.
“That’s a good question,” Luke said. “Anywhere but here.”
* * *
“I don’t see anything yet,” Ed said.
He sat by the bay door, scanning the ground with binoculars. The chopper had a spotlight controlled by Rachel, and it moved to and fro in the darkness. It reminded Ed of a light flashing on a dark ocean.
It was raining now. The dense trees were swaying in the winds driving the rain. Downhill, well to their east, trucks had assembled in a clearing of some kind. More were rumbling up a zigzagging roadway over there. He could see their headlights breaking through the mists. Closer, smaller lights, probably flashlights held by men, were making their way up the hillside.
Troops were on the ground, and on the move, looking for the plane.
The chopper passed over an area where there were no trees. The ground was suddenly barren, chopped apart, the line between the jungle and the empty area straight enough to draw with a ruler.
“Clear cut below us,” Jacob said. “Make a note of that. It could be a good place for an extraction point.”
After less than a minute, they left the area behind and passed over dense jungle again. The chopper moved downhill, toward where the lights were coming uphill. It banked left, sweeping the treetops with its spotlight. Several moments went by, the light skimming the deep darkness.
“The troops down there are attempting radio contact,” Rachel said. She was listening to something coming through her helmet speaker. “They are warning us in Spanish to identify ourselves or leave the area immediately. This is a restricted government area. If we do not identify ourselves, we will be shot down.”
“Terrific,” Ed said. “Ask them if they know a good restaur… Wait. I got something.”
It was there. Something was right there, below them.
“Right under us. Put the light there.”
It was the plane, or what was left of it. It was wrecked, and spread out over a wide area. His breath caught in his throat. It looked bad. Trees were knocked over, sideways, broken apart, in a long line. After that, there was a depression, a gash in the earth, that seemed to lead into the forest.
“That has to be it.”
“That’s it,” Rachel said. “That’s a plane crash.”
Ed was already up and moving. “I’m going in.”
He dropped the rope over the side.
“Ed,” Jacob said. “It’s pretty dense down there. You drop through that canopy, you have no idea what you’re going to hit.”
Ed didn’t have space in his mind for debate. He decided to keep it simple.
“I’m going,” he said.
“We can drop you back at the clear-cut. At least you’ll be able to see what’s about to kill you.”
“No time,” Ed said. “I’d have to hike back over here. We don’t have all night.”
To their left, a light flashed in the distance. It came from the ground. Ed knew what it was instantly, without thought.
“Rocket,” he said. “Incoming.”
“I see it,” Jacob said. His voice was completely calm. “Hold on. Taking evasive action.”
The chopper banked hard now, to the right. Ed went to the floor, his fingers gripping the metal slats. From the corner of his eye, he saw the rocket zip past. It was a dumb weapon, no brain. Some guy threw the launcher up on his shoulder, took his best shot. And missed. Somewhere in the distance, the rocket exploded, the sound muffled by the rain and the distance.
The chopper leveled out again.
It came down the hillside, stopped, and hovered.
“We don’t have a lot of time to hang around here,” Jacob said.
“In other words,” Rachel said. “If you’re gonna go…”
“I’m gone,” Ed said. He jumped up, checked his weapons, his water, his gear. He grabbed the heavy rope.
“Remember the clear-cut,” Jacob said. “West and a little bit south.”
“Got it. Thanks for the ride.”
He didn’t hesitate. Fast roping was not like jumping from a plane. Jumping from a plane, there was always that moment, that split second when… Jumping from a chopper was like over the falls, here we go.
He dropped through the darkness.
He crashed through the upper canopy. The branches were thick, sharp. He was tangled, they tore at him, ripped him. He plunged down through it, sliding along. His face was scratched. He turned his head away.
In the distance another missile launched. He saw the light flash through the trees. It was the only thing he could see.
That chopper needed to go. Whether he was on this rope or not, they were going to start moving.
He let go of the rope. The drop was sudden. His guts rose into his throat. He fell through the dark, hoping that it…
Boom. He hit the ground and rolled. Ten feet, he guessed. That last drop was only about ten feet. He lay on the ground.
The rope was gone, yanked upward and out of the forest. The helicopter zoomed away, its rotor chop disappearing into the distance. Somewhere over there, the rocket exploded.
Ed lay another few seconds, listening.
The chopper was out there somewhere, moving away. It was still up.
Ed climbed to his feet. He didn’t take a break. He didn’t stop to think. He just started moving down the hill. The embankment was steep, and the ground was soft. He was slipping and sliding, grabbing tree trunks to anchor himself. Below him, the flashlights were moving uphill. He could just see them now, their glow against the sky.
If the plane was where he thought it was, he and those lights were going to converge on it around the same time.
He started moving faster, plunging blindly downhill.
* * *
“Trouble coming,” Luke said.
He was speaking to himself. He stood at the ragged, gaping hole where the cockpit had been, peering out into the darkness.
A helicopter had just passed overhead. A couple of rockets had been fired. Was it a firefight? He couldn’t see enough of what had happened to tell. The chopper was well off in the distance now.
The lights in the forest below them were moving closer.
He had his MP5. He had four magazines. He had a couple of grenades left. A couple of knives. But he was one man. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. His shoulder was in bad shape. Soon he wouldn’t be able to lift his left arm. And he could barely walk.
It seemed that he had done something to his ankle in the crash. He probably sprained it. It wasn’t the level of pain he associated with a broken bone. But it was swelling, and it hurt a lot. It was hard to put weight on it.
He still had his pack. He should dig out a painkiller, but there was no time. They had to move. If they could put some real estate between themselves and those guys coming up the hill, he would stop and take a painkiller then. The men were looking for this plane, not any specific people. Once he and the girl were away from the plane a decent distance, they would be a lot harder to find.
He sighed. It was going to be a long, wet night out there, and the morning wasn’t guaranteed to be any better.
“We need to go now,” he said to Charlotte. She was standing behind him. He could feel her presence there.
“What if they’re coming to rescue us?” she said.
He shook his head. “That would be nice. But in my experience, no one really comes to the rescue. You kind of
have to do it on your own.”
“You came to rescue me, didn’t you?”
He looked back at her.
She looked at him. Then she looked past him. Suddenly she screamed.
There was something behind him. Luke turned, but it was going to be too late. He seemed to be moving in slow motion.
Oh no. Not like this.
A man was looming there, outside the plane, just a few feet away. A large black man in dark clothes. He was holding a machine gun.
“Stone,” the man said. “I didn’t even see you there. I nearly walked right into you. I’d say you blend in with the darkness pretty good.”
Ed?
“Ed,” he said. The sound came out almost like a gasp.
Ed nodded. “Who else? I dropped in here to rescue you guys. But we have to go. There are some soldiers coming up the hill. The first ones are almost here. We don’t know what they want, but I don’t want to stick around and find out.”
Ed peered inside the plane.
“Where is everybody else? Buzz Mac?”
Luke shook his head. “Dead.”
Ed made a sound. “Ah. That hurts. Bowles?”
“Also dead. He killed Buzz, then I killed him.”
Ed looked at him. “He did what?”
“It’s a long story, man.”
Ed nodded. “We’ll worry about it later. How are you guys? We have a bit of a hike ahead of us to the extraction point.”
“The girl seems okay. I got shot in the shoulder. Did something to my ankle. It’s hard to walk. I don’t know. I’m not saying leave me behind, but…”
Ed looked past him.
“Are you Charlotte?”
“Yes.”
Ed smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, darling. If you haven’t noticed, a bunch of grown men are fighting over you.”
Suddenly, voices were RIGHT THERE, down the hill, just below them. Flashlights moved in the near distance. Something had changed, something in the mists that had been muffling those voices shifted, and now they were here.
