Pure Dynamite

by Lauren Bach

  As soon as Adam disappeared, Lyle climbed out of the back. She waited for him to open her door, so they could move to the trees, but instead he moved in behind the wheel and started the car.

  "What are you doing?" she demanded.

  At first Lyle didn't answer, too busy lighting a cigarette. Lowering the windows, he put the car in gear, his movements sluggish.

  "I'm going to move the car up just a little, under that pine." He blew a stream of smoke in her direction. "Were you afraid I'd take off? That you wouldn't see lover boy again?"

  Renata felt her face flame. Of course Lyle assumed they were intimate. She and Adam slept together, showered together. Still, she opened her mouth to deny it.

  "Hey, I got my own piece of ass waiting at the next stop so it's nothing to me." Lyle eased his foot off the brake.

  The car jerked but didn't move because of the flat tire. Swearing, he hit the gas.

  This time the car shot forward. It skidded along the guardrail before pulling sharply to the right with a bump. Lyle had driven off the edge of the pavement.

  "Stop," she yelled. It was too late. The right front wheel had already lost traction.

  The car tilted and slid in slow motion. Metal scraped on metal as the guardrail loosened. Without warning it gave way. Renata braced her feet and held her breath as the car crept forward an inch at a time, gaining momentum as it started down the ravine.

  Suddenly they stopped. She peered out the passenger window, seeing little in the odd-angled headlights. She could see trees, make out their shapes.

  She struggled to right herself, hampered by the handcuffs. The car wobbled rocking back and forth, like a seesaw. Sweat broke out on her brow as she realized they were hovering on the edge of another precipice.

  "Shit! I dropped my cigarette," Lyle said.

  "Don't worry about that now! We need to get out of the car."

  Lyle shoved his door open. The car teetered.

  "Easy," she hissed. "We have to move slowly, in unison."

  But as soon as the car stopped pitching, he bolted. "Fuck slowly. I'm outta here."

  Renata lunged, but the door slammed shut before she reached it. "Wait!" she screamed.

  The impact of the swinging door, combined with Lyle's hasty exit, shifted the car's delicate balance. It swayed, dangled . . . and with a horrible rending of metal, slid into the dark abyss.

  Renata hit the dashboard then slumped to the floor as the car rammed against something solid. Then it creaked and moved before stopping again. She held her breath, worried that even the slightest motion would trigger another slide.

  All sound ceased. She moved an inch at a time, climbing back in the seat. The car seemed to be resting solidly, at least for the moment. Good news.

  Until she smelled smoke.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It took Adam less than two minutes to sprint the quarter-mile downhill. They were fortunate to have hit an area with pull-overs this close.

  And if that hadn't been good enough, he found the abandoned car already jacked up, its front left tire missing. The hapless owner had had the opposite problem: a jack but no spare.

  Adam quickly lowered the car. But before heading back, he called his brother. Zach answered on the first ring.

  "How's Stan?"

  "It's touch and go. He hasn't regained consciousness."

  The news troubled Adam. Like him, Stan had only one relative, a distant uncle. He'd mentioned it at the beginning of the assignment when Adam gave him a copy of his will.

  "I don't even bother to keep life insurance. Nobody I care about enough to leave it to," Stan had joked.

  Of course, Stan hadn't considered his behind-the- scenes work to be high-risk. Which made Adam wonder again why Ethan wanted Stan dead: What was in the file Stan had tried to send to Zach?

  "Were you able to retrieve anything off Stan's computer?"

  "Yeah. Probably more than I should have," Zach said. "The attachment he tried to send me outlined your entire investigation. How much do you know about this Ethan Falco?"

  "Evidently, not enough. I suspect he set me up from the beginning."

  Adam knew Ethan had targeted him for the job. Since Adam had worked overseas, he wasn't a familiar face. He was also a seasoned undercover agent—even if his last assignment had turned sour. Thanks to his tainted promotability, Ethan had no doubt considered him expendable.

  And Adam's desperation to get his career back on track had blinded him. He'd have agreed to anything.

  "You weren't the only one. It looks like Stan suspected he was being set up as well. Guess Ethan had something incriminating on him," Zach said. "So Stan started compiling some interesting data of his own. Seems Ethan had some ties to Willy McEdwin years ago. Back when Ethan was still with the FBI himself."

  "What kind of ties?"

  "Financial ones. Ethan used covert government funds to finance several antigovernment groups, including the one McEdwin belonged to."

  Adam pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Are you saying Ethan supported their doctrine?"

  "Only to the extent it gave him job security. Ethan anonymously created a formidable enemy that he then controlled via the purse strings. It made him look damn good in Washington. Nobody had his knack for getting the inside track on these groups. I haven't read through all of it yet, but it looks like Stan has connected all the bodies and bank accounts, and traced them back to Ethan."

  "Jesus Christ."

  "It gets better. Apparently Willy has spent the last several years tracing the origins of that money. I guess he got real close once, which has made Ethan nervous."

  "Because it could end his political aspirations," Adam finished.

  "Ethan knew you and Stan were planning to bring Willy the rest of the C-4," Zach said. "You two would have died in the bust, and been eulogized as heroes."

  "Wait. Did you say 'the rest of the C-4??”

  "Yeah. Only one shipment was seized. Half of it got through."

  Adam closed his eyes. Willy already had a hundred pounds of C-4 and wanted more. What exactly did he have planned?

  "I still have a shot at stopping the McEdwins. But I need to get Renata out before our next stop."

  "You can't take them down alone."

  "But I'm not sure who I can trust at the Bureau. On paper, it looks like I resigned to join Ethan's Task Force." Adam checked the time. He'd been gone nearly fifteen minutes. "I need to go. You got a map handy? We need to find a rendezvous spot."

  He told Zach where they were headed.

  "You'll be close to Flaming Gorge National Park, just across the Utah state line. I can be there by late morning," Zach said.

  "Do it. I'll be in touch."

  Tire jack in hand, Adam started jogging back uphill. His mind whirled. All Ethan's inconsistencies made sense now. He'd played Adam like an old country fiddle, finding his weak spot—his career blights, his brother's checkered past—then dangling a carrot in front of him.

  Adam's temper simmered. Taking Ethan down would be a pleasure.

  He slowed, having reached the pull-over. But where was the car? He flipped on the flashlight, caught sight of the mangled section of guardrail. He sprinted forward. The gouged ground and flattened bushes told him the car had gone over the edge.

  He shone the flashlight down, calling their names.

  A voice answered. Weak. Male. "Adam! Help!"

  He angled the light, saw Lyle clinging to a bent sapling about twenty feet to one side.

  "Hold on." He made his way down to the other man. "Where's Renata?"

  "Down ... there." Lyle pressed a hand to his stomach and winced.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "The car slid over the edge and just kept going. I tried to get her out, but it happened too fast."

  And he'd left her handcuffed. Turning, Adam scrambled downhill.

  "Leave her!" Lyle called. "She's probably halfway to China by now. We were going to dump her anyway. I just saved you a bullet."

&
nbsp; Lyle's last remark chilled Adam. While he didn't know what had happened—yet—he wondered if Lyle had caused the accident on purpose. Had the other man decided to get rid of Renata himself?

  "I've got my own plans for her."

  Adam kept going, grabbing a branch to slow his descent. He swept the area with his light. The ground was smooth, slippery, the vegetation scraped flat by the car.

  How far down had it traveled? His gut tightened as he thought about what he would find at the bottom. His foot kicked metal. He bent and picked up a side mirror that had been ripped off.

  As he straightened, he caught the heavy smell of gasoline.

  Renata spotted the small orange glow near the driver's door. Lyle's cigarette was wedged against the frame, smoldering in the carpet. She stretched toward the driver's side, but couldn't reach it. And the movement caused the car to shift.

  She held her breath until it stopped. But when she inhaled she caught the whiff of gas. Mother of God ... fire!

  She struggled to release her seatbelt, but the mechanism was jammed. The gas fumes grew more noxious, filling her with a choking panic. She'd worked the burn unit, heard victims' agonized screams as they were wheeled in, their frantic pleas for relief. For death.

  She thought of her family. Her last words with her mother had been rushed, angry. Then she thought of her colleagues at the clinic. All those goddamned unfinished reports. And Adam.

  Calm down. Think. She bit her lip hard tasted blood. She welcomed the pain. The clarity made her choices chillingly simple: Get out or die.

  She focused on freeing the seatbelt. Rocking the metal tab, she pressed the button over and over. "Come on."

  With a jolt, it released. Whispering a prayer of gratitude, she moved clumsily to the driver's side. The handcuff chain clinked the sound overly loud.

  She pressed against the door. A low whine of metal from beneath warned that the car was going to slide again. Frantic, she shoved the door as hard as she could with her shoulder. The door gave way spillingher onto the ground. The car tipped, swayed, then skidded a few feet.

  "Renata!" Adam's voice sounded far away.

  "I'm here!" She waited but didn't hear a response. Had she imagined his voice? A burst of light broke through the dark. A flashlight.

  Seconds later, Adam hurried to her side. "Take my hand."

  Before she could react, a shredding noise filled the air. The car lurched, unbalanced, and shot further down the ravine. Sparks flew as metal scraped rock.

  Without warning, Adam speared her, tucking her between his frame and the ground just as the car exploded.

  Flames shot high into the air, torching the surrounding pines. A dozen small fires popped to life as embers sparked the forest's dry undergrowth.

  Searing bits of fragmented metal rained down on Adam's back. He huddled his arms tightly around Renata, shielding her.

  When it stopped, he rolled away. "Are you okay?"

  "No, I'm not okay. I could have been killed." She thrust her hands forward. "Take these off. Now!"

  He unlocked the handcuffs, tossed them in the dirt.

  He pushed to his feet, helped her stand. "Can you walk?"

  "Just let me catch my breath."

  "No time. This area will be swarming with firefighters as soon as the observer in the closest fire tower reports the flames."

  He stomped out a fire close to them, but with the trees in flames, he had no chance at extinguishing the blaze. And already it was spreading, growing.

  "Let's get out of here."

  When they reached the top, Lyle ducked out from the shadows. "I thought you were toast, man! I saw the fucking car blow and—"

  Adam gave vent to his fury, grabbed the front of Lyle's shirt. "And what? Did you think beyond that? Like how will we get away without a car? Cops, firemen, will be here any minute."

  "It wasn't my—"

  "Save it. We need to find a hiding spot. Then you can call your brother."

  Lyle shook his head. "The phone was in the car."

  Adam reached into his pocket, only to find he'd lost Renata's phone as well.

  "There was a forest service road, about a tenth of a mile back. We'll have to hide in the brush until I figure something out."

  "I won't be able to keep up," Lyle said. "I hurt my knee."

  Adam moved forward. "I'll carry you. Just hope to hell we make it before a car comes along."

  They had only hiked a few minutes, when headlights flashed on the far horizon, disappearing and reappearing as the vehicle ascended the mountain. Another curve or two and the car would be right on top of them.

  "Here!" Adam tugged Renata toward a shadowy notch in the woods where a steel post marked an un- paved road.

  He ducked behind a large bush, helped Lyle sit up. Then he counted seconds until the vehicle, a forestry service fire truck, zoomed past. It would only be moments before others arrived.

  Adam ran a hand through his hair. That they had made it this far was a miracle. Lyle had groaned the entire time. What little strength the kid had built up in the last day or two had probably been shot climbing out of that ravine.

  Yet when Renata offered to check him, Lyle snarled. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

  The whine of a racing engine heralded the passing of another vehicle, this one a sheriff's car.

  "We can't stay here," Adam announced. "I'll see where this road leads."

  He pulled Renata to her feet. He wasn't about to leave her with Lyle again even for a few seconds.

  As soon as they rounded the curve and were out of Lyle's line of vision, Adam hugged her. ""You're a bigger person than I am, offering to help Lyle after his last fiasco."

  "It's what I do. In some stupid way, I think I understand that even better now."

  They came to a clearing, highway maintenance—no trespassing, the sign read. Adam swept the area quickly with this flashlight. Dark pieces of equipment were stored behind a waist-high chain link fence. A backhoe. A tractor. Two flatbed trailers. And a pickup truck with a snowplow. A small barn was off in the corner.

  Before she could protest, Adam picked Renata up and dropped her over the fence. Then he jumped it and headed toward the barn.

  "What are we doing?" she asked.

  Making a fist, he shattered a small pane of glass on the door. "We're breaking and entering."

  He tugged her inside. The building was obviously a seasonal storage facility. Judging by the layer of dust on the floor, the place hadn't been used in months. He checked the interior with his flashlight. Hanging on the wall, beside a fire extinguisher, was a small locker marked KEYS.

  He flipped it open and helped himself to the ones marked FORD and GATE. "Now we're going to steal a truck."

  Renata held up a metal box. "We're stealing a first aid kit, too. All the medical supplies were lost with the car."

  Outside, Adam helped her into the cab of the truck. The engine coughed and sputtered, then caught. A wrench lay in plain view on the floorboard. While the engine warmed up, Adam quickly unbolted the snow- plow, then climbed in the truck and backed up, leaving the snowplow sitting in the lot.

  "Did you get a sudden attack of conscience?" Renata asked.

  He stroked her cheek. "A snowplow in July might attract attention."

  After picking up Lyle, they drove six hours, stopping once for him to use a pay phone. They were instructed to stay on course, to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Lyle again rebuffed Renata's offer to examine him, so Adam stuck the first aid kit behind the seat.

  Their destination turned out to be a small motel. The Howdy Lodge. The name was the only thing welcoming about the rundown motel. Only a few cars were pulled up to the twenty-odd units belying the NO VACANCY notice. The neon sign in one window marked the office.

  Adam hoped the fact that they were staying in a town meant they were getting close to Willy. The noosewas tightening, and they'd had their last close call. The police were overdue for a lucky break.

  The window blinds
at the office parted. As always, they were being watched. Adam pulled to the side of the motel.

  "I need to get rid of this truck. It's a dead giveaway."

  "You know the drill," Lyle said. "Leave the keys inside and it will disappear."

  "And you know I don't like being without wheels."

  "I'll call Pa. Just hurry."

  They walked toward the front of the building.

  "The doors will be unlocked," Lyle said. "You take unit seven. I'll take eight."

  Adam started to speak when the door to room number eight opened. A woman with bright yellow hair slipped out the door and hurried toward them.

  "She's cool," Lyle said. "Her uncle owns this place."

  The woman sidled up to Lyle, hugging him as she pressed a noisy kiss to his mouth. Lyle made a pained noise, then swore.

  The woman backed away. "What's wrong, sugar? I thought you were all better?"

  Alarmed, Renata extended her hand. "You really should let me take a look."

  Lyle nodded toward the woman. "Wanda works at a clinic. She'll be taking over my care now."

  Renata eyed the woman skeptically. "I don't—"

  "That's right," Lyle snapped. "You don't have a say in it. Not anymore. She does."

  Wanda shrugged. "Whatever. But I put the supplies in their room, so I'll need to grab some stuff."

  "Hurry back." Lyle disappeared into the room.

  Wanda led Adam and Renata to room seven. "Your unit has a kitchenette. So I left all the food and supplies in there." "Any chance we can get some clean clothes?" Adam asked.

  "Check the closet and the chest." The woman went to the shelf in the kitchen area and grabbed tape and gauze.

  Renata followed and eyed the supplies. It was basic first aid stuff. "There's no saline. Or antibiotics."

  "He didn't mention those. In fact he said he was good to go." The girl grabbed a box, held it up. "He was more concerned that I have plenty of these. Got you some, too."

  latex condoms, the box read. St. Luke’s Crisis Center was stamped on the box. Renata shoved them away. "You can take all of them."