Jan Burke - Nine

The sounds in front of him stopped. He waited.

Minutes passed. He thought of the explosives. He thought of Chase being held under Everett Corey’s control. He made himself wait.

He heard a rustle of leaves and other sounds and was no longer sure that Cameron was alone. Was Kit nearby? Or had Everett overcome his dislike of the woods?

Suddenly there was a whiplike snap, a startled cry, the sound of what might have been a brief struggle, and then silence. A moment later, he saw light near the place where the sounds had been made. He heard a soft laugh.

He moved cautiously and quietly. He forced away thoughts of Hamilton’s talk of explosives, and of the hostages and what might be happening to them.

One thing at a time, he told himself. Get safely out of these woods.

The light, he was certain, was nothing more than a lure. A flashlight, its beam pointing up through the tree branches. He considered ignoring it, but the sounds he had heard could only mean that someone was in trouble. Before long, he was near enough to see what the flashlight was illuminating: Kit, hanging upside down.

He appeared to have been caught in a snare, but someone had obviously set to work on him after that. His wrists were bound and dangled below his head-his fingertips were only a few inches above the ground. His ankles were bound together with a second length of rope, tied to the black one, which held him suspended. A piece of silver duct tape covered his mouth. His jaw was swollen, his forehead scraped and bleeding. His eyes were closed, but it seemed to Alex that he was holding them closed, almost as if he were meditating-or perhaps the light bothered him.

Alex looked for Cameron, but saw only darkness between the tree trunks. He listened but heard nothing. Kit opened his eyes, and Alex now wondered if he had been trying to adjust them to see something in the darkness. Alex waited for a chance to attract his attention, but he seemed to be looking up into the trees.

A sound came from above him, too late to provide real warning. Cameron dropped down from a tree branch, landing on Alex’s back and shoulders, tackling him hard to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. The sound had given Alex time to tighten his grip on his gun, and he held on to it for dear life. Cameron’s first objective would be to disarm him, he thought-then Alex felt the wire wrap painfully around his throat.

Immediately, he couldn’t breathe. The wire cut into his windpipe. His ears rang, his vision began to dim. He tried to strike and claw at Cameron with his left hand. He tried to kick, to turn, to free his right arm. He tried to think, fighting his rising panic. He could feel Cameron’s hot breath near his right ear. Cameron laughed. Alex switched his gun to his left hand and pulled the trigger.

Cameron give a cry of pain, but there was only an infinitesimal slackening of the garrote. Alex felt consciousness slipping from him. Cameron took Alex’s right earlobe into his teeth and bit as he pulled sharply harder on the wire. One chance, Alex thought. He fired the gun into Cameron’s face.

Cameron fell forward, further pinning Alex. The world went black.

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 8:10 P.M.

He heard his own breathing, rapid and harsh, before he was aware of anything else. The wire, although still around his neck, was no longer cutting into his skin.

He didn’t think he had been out for long. Cameron’s body was still warm as it lay heavily over him. Alex felt a sticky dampness on his neck, but thought that was probably from the wound to his ear. He rolled Cameron off his back without strangling himself in the process. He managed it, then glanced at Kit, who was looking at him with relief. For a guy who was hanging upside down, Alex thought dizzily, he was remarkably calm.

Alex holstered his automatic, then unwrapped the garrote from his neck. He moved to his hands and knees, then sat up slowly. His throat and neck hurt like hell, but each breath made him feel stronger. He glanced at Cameron’s ruined eye and lifeless face, the wound in his shoulder, then looked away. Alex felt his ear and was relieved to discover that most of it was still firmly attached.

“I’ll get you down,” he said to Kit in a low, rasping voice that didn’t seem to be his. “Any traps between you and me?”

Kit shook his head.

Alex forced himself to search Cameron’s body, and he found a knife. His strength returning now, he hurried to Kit. He saw that the ground was littered with the contents of Kit’s pockets-milagros and the stone tortoise. He pulled the tape away as quickly but gently as possible. Kit took big gulps of air, then said, “Thanks.”

Alex cut through the binding on his wrists.

“The light,” Kit said.

“I need to see what I’m doing here. I don’t want to drop you on your head.” But he moved the flashlight so that it was no longer providing a beacon through the trees.

“Just cut me down,” Kit said. “I can use my arms to help roll and break the fall.”

But instead Alex also held on to him as he cut, so that Kit’s weight didn’t hit the ground all at once. They managed clumsily but without further damage. He handed Kit the knife and then used the flashlight to look for Cameron’s rifle.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said, cutting his ankles free, then rubbing his calves and ankles as circulation painfully returned to them. “I should have been more careful.” Alex saw him pick up the stone tortoise.

“Could have happened to either of us. Are you going to be able to walk?”

“I’ll be all right in a moment. I know we have to hurry. Everett will wonder where Cameron is. And he’ll wonder why you haven’t shown up yet.” He paused and said, “I’m worried about your nephew. If Cameron was willing to kill you…”

Alex frowned. “I see your point. Why keep Chase alive if I’m dead, right?”

“Right.”

He found the rifle and brought it to Kit, who had moved unsteadily to his feet. “You know how to use this, right?”

“Yes.”

Alex turned off the flashlight. In the darkness, he said, “Ciara must have heard the shots. She’s probably called for backup by now. So if you see someone from a SWAT team, lay the weapon down and let them handle whatever happens next.”

Kit didn’t answer.

“Kit-I know you’re thinking about Spooky, but you won’t do her any good if one of our snipers can’t tell what team you’re on.”

“All right. Do you want the knife back?”

“No, you keep it.”

“What about the FBI agent? Did Cameron kill him?”

“No-but he’s wounded. Getting shot by his buddy Cameron seems to have wised him up some. One other thing-although I don’t know if we should believe him. Hamilton told me there are explosives up in the bell tower.”

“As long as we get Chase and Spooky out of here,” Kit said, “Everett can blow up the whole school. Let’s go.”

• • •

The baseball field stayed dark. By the time they were able to move to the buildings, they saw lights on in the administration building and one of the classrooms. It was brighter here, but they tried to stay in the shadows.

Kit cautiously peered through a window into the classroom. He turned to signal to Alex that it was empty, and his eyes widened. Alex looked at himself in the light for the first time since coming from the woods. The front of his suit was covered with blood.

“Hamilton’s and Cameron’s,” he whispered. “Not much of mine. Let’s look in the other classrooms, too, though. Nothing says he’ll have them in a room with a light on.”

They were moving toward the next room when the school’s public address system came on.

“Kit Logan and Alexander Brandon, report to the principal’s office. You have visitors.”