David Morrell - Burnt Sienna

The weather was so bad, no matter how fast Jeb tried to drive, it still took four hours – twice as long as usual – to reach the border. Dillon tried to use a cell phone to warn the Yuma authorities not to let Bellasar’s jet take off, but the storm was so bad that the call wouldn’t go through.

Beyond the border, the weather improved, but it still took an hour to get to Yuma. The cell phone finally worked.

Malone, who’d been drifting in and out of a feverish sleep, barely heard Dillon talking urgently to someone in Yuma. He fought toward consciousness, his chest cramping as he tried to get a sense of what the person on the other end was saying.

“Here!” Jeb swerved into the modest airport and skidded to a stop in front of the single-story terminal. Police cars, their roof lights flashing, waited. Jeb rushed out of the car, hurrying to a group of officers. Malone struggled to get out and join him, but even before he took a step, he saw the bleak look with which Jeb turned to him.

“I’m sorry, Chase. I wish I… Bellasar’s jet took off forty-five minutes ago.”

Malone sank.

“Your ribs are bruised but not broken,” the doctor said. Windows vibrated from the roar of jets taking off and landing at the Marine Corps Air Station at the edge of Yuma. “Your nose is broken. You’ve got a concussion.”

“Is the concussion going to kill me?”

The tall, thin doctor, a captain, peered over his spectacles. “Not if you take it easy for a while.”

“He’s talking about R and R,” Jeb said.

“I know what he’s talking about.”

“What he’s not talking about,” Jeb said, “is trying to go after Bellasar. We’ll handle it. You’re in no shape to do it.”

“How?”

“I don’t -”

“How are you planning to go after him? Tell me how you’ll get Sienna back.”

Jeb looked uncomfortable.

The doctor glanced from one man to the other. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I don’t think I should be hearing this.”

The door swung shut behind him.

“Do you know where Bellasar went?” Malone asked.

“South over Mexican airspace.”

“And then?”

“By the time we alerted the Mexican authorities, he was off their radar.”

The painkillers the doctor had given Malone didn’t stop his skull from throbbing. “So he probably flew over Baja and reached the Pacific.”

“That’s the theory.”

“He could be going anywhere.”

“We’ve asked Canada and the Central American countries to alert us about unidentified civilian aircraft.”

Malone massaged his forehead. “We can’t assume he’ll go back to his estate in France. The most I can hope for is, whatever Bellasar plans to do to Sienna, he’ll wait until they get off the jet. It gives us a little more time.”

“To do what? A man that powerful… I’m sorry, Chase.”

“I won’t give up! Tell me what you learned about Bellasar since we disappeared. Maybe there’s something that’ll help us.”

“The arms dealer Bellasar planned to use to broker the weapon -”

“Tariq Ahmed.”

Jeb nodded. “He got word that Bellasar’s wife had run away with another man. He doesn’t know the Agency’s involved. Bellasar’s trying to keep that a secret, but the fact that Sienna ran off jeopardized the negotiations. Ahmed’s the kind who believes that if a man can’t control his wife, he can’t be depended upon to control his business. There’s a chance Bellasar might keep her alive to show Ahmed that she’s back and that he’s the boss.”

“Maybe.”

“You’ve got a look in your eyes. What?”

“Bellasar might prove what a man he is by inviting Ahmed to watch him kill her.”

Another jet roared into the air.

“That’s just the sick sort of thing Bellasar would do,” Jeb said. “Kill her in front of Ahmed. It would solve a lot of problems. He’d not only get the negotiations back on track; he’d also scare the hell out of anybody tempted to underestimate him.”

“If your people keep a closer watch on Ahmed -”

“He might lead us to Bellasar.”

“And Sienna.” Jeb pulled out his cell phone.

As the fuselage hummed from the Gulfstream 5’s powerful engines, Sienna barely looked out at the whitecapped ocean below. She told herself she ought to. This would be the last time she’d see it. But she didn’t care. Staring at the back of the seat, she kept remembering what Derek had done to Chase. In her mind, she saw Chase lying on the floor, the flames spreading toward him. He was dead. Nothing else mattered.

Someone stood in the aisle. When she turned, Potter’s expression had never been more sullen, the gaze behind his spectacles never more sour.

“That business with the duffel bags in the plane,” he said. “Cute. I’m going to enjoy what happens to you.”

She returned her mournful stare to the back of the seat. In a moment, Potter’s presence was replaced by a darker one, and she didn’t need to look to know who took the seat next to her.

“How much did you tell them?” Derek asked.

“Everything I could.”

“Which wasn’t anything important. You were never present for meetings. I never engaged in pillow talk. You know nothing about my business.”

“Then you don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

“Did you live with me for so long and not learn even the most basic thing about me?” Derek grasped her chin and turned it in his direction. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“I didn’t live with you, Derek.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You would never allow anyone to live with you. I just happened to share the same building with you.”

“Why did you betray me?”

“You expected me to wait around until you killed me? It was all right for you to plan my murder, but for me to leave was unforgivable? You arrogant… Even if you hadn’t been planning to kill me, I’d have left you. For the first time in my life, I found a man who cared for me more than he did for himself.”

“I gave you the best of everything.”

“And treated me like one of those things.”

“It’s better than dying.”

“Good!” Jeb pushed the disconnect button on his cell phone and turned to let Dillon know what he’d learned.

Malone interrupted, emerging from a stack of battered furniture in an outdoor storage unit.

“I don’t know what we’re doing here.” Jeb squinted from the morning sun.

“I had to pick up this suitcase.”

“What’s so important about it? I already got you fresh clothes.”

Malone opened it.

Jeb stared at the money.

“No, you come to me ,” Ahmed said into his scrambler-equipped telephone. Outside, the traffic sounds of Istanbul’s evening rush hour grew louder. “I don’t see why I should put myself out for you. You’re the one whose affairs are out of order. It’s your obligation to regain my confidence.”

“But you don’t have the proper facilities.” Bellasar’s voice, crackling with static, came from his own scrambler-equipped telephone aboard his jet. He had refueled at a client’s airstrip in El Salvador, toward which he’d been flying from Miami when he’d learned where Sienna and Malone were hiding. “My technicians can’t guarantee the safety of the demonstration unless it’s conducted in a level-four chamber.”

“If the weapon is so sensitive, that doesn’t fill me with confidence, either.”

“I guarantee that when I’m finished, I’ll definitely have your confidence.”

“It’ll take a great deal to convince me your personal affairs are back in order.”