Brett Battles - Shadow of Betrayal

It wasn’t, but she seemed to be in an arguing mood, so he decided to change the subject. “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine,” she snapped. “What were you two looking at when I walked up?”

“Nothing,” Nate said. “Just looking at the helicopters.”

“Don’t try to lie to me, Nate,” she said. “I can always tell.”

Quinn hesitated a moment, then said, “Give her the glasses.” She needed to know.

Nate looked at Quinn as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, then held the binoculars out to Orlando. She took the glasses as she knelt down between the two men.

“What am I looking at?” she asked.

Quinn pointed toward Tucker. “There,” he said. “That guy on the boulder.”

It only took her a couple seconds to zero in on him. Once she did, she froze in place, the binoculars seeming to meld with the skin around her eyes.

When she did move them away, her gaze remained riveted on the man on the rock.

“He’s mine,” she said.

Neither Quinn nor Nate argued with her. How could they? She had business with Tucker—the kidnapping of her son, Garrett. The only reason the Australian was still alive was because of the deal he’d made with Quinn to reveal Garrett’s location in exchange for being able to walk away. A deal Orlando had hated, but could think of no alternative solution.

But the deal expired the moment they found Garrett. Though they never talked about it, Quinn knew in Orlando’s mind Tucker had been living under a death sentence to be administered at a time she deemed best—a time that looked like it might soon be approaching.

“Ah … unless we do something fast,” Nate said, “we’re going to lose him.”

“What?”

Nate pointed at the rock Tucker had been standing on. The man was gone.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said. “But it looks like they’re all loaded up and ready to go. Our old friend just climbed on board the one farthest from us.”

Nate was right; all but a handful of the men had boarded one of the working helicopters. Within seconds, the helicopter nearest them lifted into the air. The other two soon joined it.

“Down!” Quinn yelled.

They pressed themselves against the rocks as the helicopters rose in the air high enough to spot them. But soon all three aircraft were flying west toward the mountains.

“I think we just lost control of the situation,” Nate said.

“Exactly when did we have control of the situation?” Quinn asked.

“I don’t see a problem,” Orlando said.

“You did see them fly away, right?” Nate said. “All that noise a few seconds ago? The sudden breeze?”

She peeked over the rocks at the remaining helicopter. “I’m betting one of them knows where their friends are headed. We just get them to fly us there.” She smiled, then pulled out a palm-size circuit board from her pocket. “Of course, they’ll need to put this back in first.”

Quinn smiled, thinking that maybe they still had a chance.

Then from the clearing below, they heard a woman scream.

CHAPTER

37

MARION HAD BEEN TOO FAR AWAY WHEN THE HELICOPTERSrose into the air. Still she ran, stumbling around the last pile of rocks and into the clearing as they’d disappeared into the night. That’s when she saw that one of the helicopters was still on the ground.

Blinded by rage at what these people had done to her family, and by fear of what had happened to Iris, she sprinted toward the helicopter, a scream fleeing from her throat. Ahead, several of the men gathered around the downed helicopter stepped out to get a better look at her. One man raised his arm, pointing at her. In his hand was a gun.

She was dead, she knew it. But her rage would not allow her to slow her pace.

The man with the gun took a step toward her.

There was the crack of a shot.

She thought it should have knocked her to the ground, but she felt nothing. He must have missed. The next shot would get her for sure.

Only the man with the gun was crumpled on the ground.

Crack. Crack. Crack-crack.

Three more of the men fell to the ground. The remaining two were scrambling into the helicopter. One of them starting to pull the door closed when a voice yelled out, “Stop!”

Both Marion and the man at the door stopped moving at the same instant. From the rocks at the edge of the clearing, two people emerged. Nate and Orlando, Marion realized.

Orlando moved over to the helicopter, while Nate checked the bodies on the ground, then jogged over to Marion.

Before he reached her, he said, “All clear.” Then to her, “Are you all right?”

“Iris? Do you have her?”

Before he said anything, she could tell from the look in his eyes what the answer was.

“We’re not through yet,” Nate said.

“But they’re gone. She’s gone.”

As if to contradict her, the remaining helicopter whirled to life. She glanced toward the noise, but was distracted by movement off to the left. It was Quinn emerging from a gap in the rocks, and carrying a rifle. He motioned to them, then pointed at the helicopter.

“Let’s go,” Nate said.

“What? On that?”

“You want to stay here?”

She didn’t need him to ask again.

“Pilot says he doesn’t know where the exact landing site is,” Orlando said. “All he knows is that they were supposed to fly toward the coast to a point forty miles southeast of a town called Santa Maria. They were to be given the final destination at that point. Do you know where he’s talking about?” Orlando said.

Quinn nodded. “I’ve driven by a couple times. Highway 101 runs right through it. But are we sure he’s telling the truth?”

“When I stuck my gun to the back of his head, and Nate convinced him he knew how to fly this thing if necessary, he was pretty eager to stay alive and help out.”

“Nate doesn’t know how to fly helicopters,” Quinn said.

“Sure sounded like he knew what he was talking about,” Orlando said. “Maybe he’s been studying more than just the things you’ve told him to while he’s been recovering.”

Nate had had a lot of time on his hands during his rehabilitation, and the work Quinn had given him probably wouldn’t have filled it all up. Quinn guessed there was a chance he did know what he was talking about it. But hands-on knowledge? No way.

“Maybe the pilot’s lying,” Quinn said. “Just telling us enough to get us off his back.”

“I don’t think so. But if you want, I can go push him some more.”

Quinn shook his head. He trusted her judgment.

“Have you talked to our other friend yet?” Orlando said, nodding toward the technician sitting against the opposite wall.

“Not yet.”

“Shall we?”

“Definitely.”

Orlando glanced at Marion. “What about…?”

Quinn would have preferred that Marion wasn’t there, but the only other place he could send her was the cockpit, and Nate needed that distraction even less than Quinn did.

“Not one word,” Quinn told the woman.

“I understand,” Marion said, her voice a whisper.

The seats in the passenger area had been arranged in single rows along each wall, creating an open space for the cargo they’d thought they’d be carrying.

An image of the baskets being loaded onto the other helicopters filled Quinn’s mind as he moved over to where the technician sat waiting. Anger made Quinn grab the man harder than he’d planned, but what the hell? The son of a bitch deserved it.

“Come on,” he said. He pushed the man back across to where Orlando sat waiting. “There.” Quinn pointed at the chair he’d been sitting in a few moments earlier.