Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (35 page)

“We’re on our way. Don’t call the hospital. I want our arrival to be a surprise. I’ll keep you posted and have Michael get the
Galileo
ready to fly us out of Guatemala,” Donovan said, then pushed the button that would allow him to speak with Janie and Eric.

“Janie, did you copy all that?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve already changed course. When I landed earlier, the Centro Medico Hospital, being private, didn’t want to admit Stephanie until William flashed his State Department credentials.”

“Janie, how far out are we?” Donovan asked.

“Eight minutes.”

Donovan watched as Eva began to peel away the gauze covering her wound.

“What are you doing?” Donovan said as he reached out to stop her.

“If we land with a bleeding woman, I promise you they’ll take us straight to where they took Stephanie.”

Donovan nodded and, while Eva made a fist, he ripped off each of his makeshift butterfly stitches until her knife wound was once again bleeding profusely. She pressed it to her chest, to the already blood-soaked material of her blouse.

“Hospital in sight,” Janie said over the intercom.

Donovan double-checked the Glock and once again slid it next to the skin in the small of his back, making sure his shirt and jacket hid the weapon. He looked over Janie’s shoulder and found a modern white building. On the roof was a white circle with a red
H
painted in the center. Janie expertly set the 412 down in the exact center of the vacant roof. As she powered down the helicopter, a door along the perimeter burst open, and three people in orange vests ran to meet them.

Cesar opened the door and motioned for the medical staff to hurry. Donovan was easing Eva toward the door as a quick exchange in Spanish took place outside, and then Cesar turned, nodded that he’d been successful, and helped lift Eva to the gurney.

“Stay here as long as you can,” Donovan said to Janie. “If they make you leave, circle and be ready for anything.”

Donovan jumped to the concrete and hurried after Eva. A short elevator ride down and the doors opened. They pushed the gurney down the polished floor, and as they rounded a corner, they saw two men in suits standing outside the sliding glass door
that led to the emergency department. Donovan recognized them from the hotel—they were Hector Vargas’ men.

The emergency room consisted of at least seven individual cubicles. They were fully enclosed, making the job of finding Stephanie and William more difficult. Eva was whisked into an empty room and the door closed behind them. One nurse began opening cabinets and pulling out supplies the doctor would need to suture the wound closed. The other nurse took Eva’s vitals and placed a compress over her forearm. They both excused themselves and left the room, assuring Eva that the doctor would be with her shortly.

As soon as the nurses left, Donovan stepped out of the room and began reading the charts hanging outside the occupied rooms. He located Stephanie’s cubicle, and Eva followed as he pushed through the door. A woman dressed in scrubs was lying face up on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from her slit throat. Stephanie was on the bed, a cast on her ankle, and to Donovan’s left was Hector Vargas, a knife pressed to William’s throat.

“Stand down, Mr. Nash.” Vargas smiled and increased the pressure of the blade on William’s flesh for emphasis.

Donovan was caught by surprise, furious with himself for not having drawn his own weapon. Eva huddled close behind, and he felt her gently begin to slide his Glock from his waistband.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Nash. I see you brought Eva to me. Thank you. Now, tell me where my granddaughter is, or I’ll kill this old man.”

“We didn’t find her,” Donovan replied.

“Bullshit!” Vargas hissed. “Eva, tell me where Marie is!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eva replied as she gripped the pistol.

“Eva, I’ve done what you asked. I eliminated everyone you wanted. Now tell me where my granddaughter is being held.”

Donovan felt her reach all the way around his waist with her left arm; the firing angle took William out of the equation. Donovan flinched as Eva fired, the bullet ripping into the wall
next to Hector’s ear. He ducked as Eva fired a second shot that found flesh, and Hector doubled over, holding his ribs. Donovan kicked the knife away as Eva planted a foot, then kicked Hector as hard as she could in the jaw. Hector’s head snapped backward and he hit the floor.

Eva aimed the Glock at Hector’s temple and steadied herself, as if she wanted to relish the moment.

“Vargas’ men will have heard the shots.” Donovan was the first to reach Stephanie, and he pulled her from the bed. “Eva, we’ll deal with him later. Get the door. We need to get out of here, now!”

Eva led the way with the Glock. She burst from the treatment room and the hospital staff backed away. Vargas’ men had just pushed through the outer doors, then stopped at the sight of Eva.

“Fire escape to the roof,” William said as he led them toward a stairwell marked “
salida.”

Donovan ignored the pain radiating down his back as he took the stairs, carrying Stephanie. He heard two sharp reports as Eva fired the Glock, then slammed the door behind her.

William flung open a door, and daylight flooded the gloomy stairwell. As they burst out onto the roof, Donovan heard the welcome sound of Janie spooling up the turbine engines. Behind him, Eva fired off two more rounds down the stairs, telling him that their pursuers were coming fast. Gasping in the thin air, Donovan handed Stephanie to Cesar, then turned around to help William into the helicopter. He waved to Eva to hurry as she ran headlong for the chopper and leaped into the open door.

The engines reached full power, and Donovan could feel the skids getting light just as the door swung open and three men, automatic weapons at the ready, rushed out and fired at the helicopter. As he ducked, Donovan saw that the man in the middle was Vargas.

Slugs ripped through the aluminum skin of the helicopter, and Janie spun the machine in midair to try to make a smaller target. Donovan silently urged her to fly them away from the deadly barrage of bullets. They seemingly hung in space, not
moving, when a shadow flashed across the cabin. Donovan snapped his head up just in time to see an object coming in high and fast from above. The
Scimitar
impacted at a steep angle directly between the helicopter and the gunman; black debris peppered the doorway, followed by a brief fireball that enveloped what was left of the drone, and then quickly burned itself out.

“Janie! Set us back down!” Donovan yelled forward, grabbing his Glock from Eva. The moment the skids touched, he jumped from the helicopter and picked his way through the debris as fast as he could. Two charred bodies marked what was left of the gunmen. Donovan slowed as he reached the heavy fire door that opened into the stairwell. He took a deep breath and flung it open, Glock at the ready. Splayed on the steps below him was Hector Vargas, wounded but still alive. Hector’s eyes narrowed into hate-filled slits as he recognized Donovan.

“La Serpiente
,” Donovan said, stepping forward until he towered over Hector. “You and I have some unfinished business.”

“Who are you?”

Behind him the door opened, and Donovan felt someone at his side. William.

“To answer your question, I’m Robert Huntington. I’ve come back from the grave to kill you.”

Hector’s eyes flew wide open as he searched Donovan’s face for any truth to the words.

“I’m William VanGelder—the last surviving member of the conclave.” William reached out and slid the Glock from Donovan’s grasp. The pistol bucked twice in William’s hand. Donovan’s ears rang as Vargas’ corpse relaxed and slid down the steps until it rested on the first landing.

William handed the gun back to Donovan.

“Why did you take that from me?”

“It was a murder, plain and simple. I have diplomatic immunity, and you don’t. I’ll deal with this.” William drew out his cell phone and punched in a number as they headed back to the helicopter. “Oh, and talk to your wife. She found out far more
about me than anyone was ever supposed to know. I think she and I are good, but the FBI is involved. We may have to do a little maneuvering to make all the problems go away. She’ll explain it to you.”

Donovan was about to ask questions when William put a finger to one ear to drown out the rotor noise and began speaking into the phone.

“Can you get us to the airport?” Donovan called out to Janie as they climbed aboard.

“You betcha.” Janie replied, and moments later the Bell 412 lifted free from the roof, pivoted smartly, and headed north.

The moment the helicopter touched down at the Guatemala City airport, Donovan jumped to the ground, turned, and helped everyone to the tarmac. He gave Cesar a heartfelt handshake and then made his way to the cockpit.

“Thank you both for everything,” Donovan said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Donovan caught up with the others as William finally disconnected the phone call he’d made the moment they’d lifted off from the roof of the hospital.

“That was the ambassador,” William said. “My diplomatic immunity has been stretched pretty thin. We all need to go as quickly as possible.”

They all hurried toward the
Galileo
. Michael was waiting at the foot of the stairs. Donovan knew that no one but Michael would have flown the
Scimitar
into a kamikaze dive to save them.

“Good to see you,” Michael said as the two old friends hugged.

“Thank you,” Donovan replied, unexpected gratitude flooding his senses. “I don’t know what to say. You saved us all.”

“I told you I’d always try.”

Over Michael’s shoulder, Donovan saw three official cars come screeching to a halt. Armed men set up a perimeter.

“They’re ours,” William said. “Courtesy of the embassy, but we all need to go, now!”

“What about Janie and Eric?” Donovan asked.

“They’re coming with William and Stephanie on the
Galileo,”
Michael said. “You, and Lauren, Marie, and Eva are going on the other Gulfstream. We’ll come back later for the helicopter, if we still have one.”

Donovan, Eva following, hurried toward Lauren. Behind him, the first of the
Galileo
’s engines began to spool up. He climbed the stairs and wrapped his arms around his wife, hugged her tightly, and then kissed her. “I don’t know how you put it all together. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lauren said.

“Eva, this is my wife, Lauren. I’m pretty sure the two of you have a few things to discuss.” Donovan heard and then felt the right engine being started. He spotted Marie, then turned to Lauren.

“Is Marie doing okay?”

“I think she’ll be fine,” Lauren replied. “She knows that Eva is a friend of her mother. In fact, I just got off the phone with some people who’ve been helping us. We’re taking Marie to San Jose, California, to be with her mother.”

Donovan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at an equally confused Eva. “We’re going to California?”

“I can’t go with you,” Eva said. “I have no passport. I’ll use the chaos of the volcano to go into hiding. I’ll get home, eventually.”

“You’re fine,” Lauren said. “The immigration details have been taken care of. You’re coming with us.”

“How is that possible?” Eva asked.

“Apparently, nothing is impossible,” Donovan said.

Donovan placed his hand in the small of Lauren’s back as the flight attendant closed the main cabin door. They walked down the aisle toward the twin, facing club seats near the rear of the cabin. Lauren sat in the aisle seat, and Marie slid next to her in the window seat. Eva took the seat across from Marie, which left one seat for Donovan. Lauren helped Marie fasten her seat belt as the door closed and the left engine was started.

“You should have seen Michael when the four of you burst out onto the roof of the hospital,” Lauren said to Donovan. “He’s the one who immediately understood what was happening, that
you might not get airborne in time. He never hesitated, he never even blinked, he just took control of the
Scimitar
, told Janie to hover over the roof in case she lost power, then dove the
Scimitar
straight between you and the shooters. Then he picked up the microphone and told Guatemalan air traffic control that the
Scimitar
had suffered a malfunction and that we’d lost contact with the drone.”

“He’s one of a kind.” Donovan tilted his head. “How
are
we going to enter the country without Eva or Marie having passports?”

“Taken care of,” Lauren said.

“Who’s meeting the plane?” Donovan asked.

“Marie’s mother, for one, and most likely some FBI agents. They and the US Marshals Service are going to help Marie and her mother with a new place to live.”

Donovan nodded his approval. “Witness protection—nice work.”

“I don’t want to talk to the FBI,” Eva said.

“I’ve arranged for you to receive immunity, in return for your testimony involving events related to repatriating Marie with her mother. We have it in writing. You’ll be going with us to Washington, DC. Donovan and I will take care of everything, and, after you’re finished with the FBI, I understand William has something for you.”

“Money?” Eva’s eyes grew wide.

“A deal is a deal, is what I was told.” Lauren shrugged.

“Then I’d like to give half of it to Marie and her mother.”

“That’s incredibly generous, but there’s no need,” Lauren replied. “Donovan and I have already made arrangements for Marie and her mother.”

The Gulfstream swung out on the runway and powered down the pavement, until the nose lifted and they pulled free from the earth and climbed skyward. Donovan looked to the west; the towering plume of ash rose from the distant volcano. He said a silent good-bye to Buck as they banked toward the northwest.

Once they leveled off, Donovan got up, found his suitcase, and ducked into the lavatory. He looked in the mirror, at the eyes that reflected back. They were all that remained of Robert Huntington, and he also found something he didn’t recognize. With the thinnest of smiles, he understood that for the first time in nearly a quarter of a century, he was seeing something besides guilt and anger.