Escape (Chronicles of Hart) (13 page)

“How long to the cut off Doug,” said the man from the backseat, breaking the monotone ticking of the rain against the roof.

“Half an hour, but there’s a truck stop in five, could stop for a bite while she’s out?” Doug suggested.

“Exactly.” his companion chuckled as the car sped on.

The blanket covering Grace was itchy and made her nose twitch. She felt like she was going to sneeze. She counted in her head to ten trying to stifle off the urge without moving under the blanket. The routine was familiar to her. She would wait until they had exited the car and then continue her search for a safe escape route. She hoped they hadn’t been clever enough to click on the child locks back here. It always made it harder to escape if you had to crawl over into the front seat to do it.

Five minutes later Grace felt the car pull off onto a gravel drive. It dipped, splashing in the quick filling puddles. Swerving to the left, the car parked and the doors clicked as the men exited. Their footsteps rapidly splashed in the puddles outside. She could faintly hear the ding of the diner door as it opened. Light music wafted out with the smells of homemade fries and burgers. Grace peeked from under the blanket, adjusting herself to see the diner out the window. She waited. Dark dripping rainclouds provided her cover from wandering eyes, as drips of water trailed down the windows.

Grace crouched patiently for a few minutes before she felt sure enough to slip out the door and creep behind the car. Taking in her surroundings she searched for the fastest escape route that would provide cover if anyone looked out the window.
Maybe cover from the rain too,
she thought. Her light clothing had already soaked through under agent Chung’s heavy coat. She slipped behind the next car, standing in the middle of a deep puddle for a pause. Then she made a dash for a patch of trees adjacent to the lot of cars.

***

The new agents flew down the interstate. Weaving through traffic at dangerous speeds they sent up a mist of rain behind them. They knew Harts men had a twenty minute lead and were trying to close the gap as quickly as possible. Peters, the driver, was hunched over and gripping the wheel. He appeared like a kid trying to win a racing game. He smiled slightly every time he narrowly dodged an accident or produced a horn from a passing car. His partner, Platt, sat stiffly scowling while he waited for their in-house tech team to identify the car. King stared out the side window lost in thought. Their damp clothing gave the car a stifling smell. Platt had turned the heaters on high to warm them up as they dried off. It hissed at Ethan’s ear as he leaned against the back headrest trying to scavenge together enough of a plan to get Grace back again. He hoped they could find her, or at least the car. He was willing to go undercover as one of Harts men to get her out, but Hart looked as though he had recognized him when they had walked past him at the cabin. Ethan’s head was swimming with ideas and excuses. He needed to see that Grace was found safe and he knew that he was willing to do just about anything to make sure of it...facing Hart was another story. Ethan wasn’t sure if he could count on these new agents to help him with his cause. Surely he could use some of their resources if he kept them close enough, but he wouldn’t trust them with Grace’s life again. Not after all of their blunders with her rescue.

Ethan sat up and looked from one agent to another, searching for their hidden agenda. He hoped that he could read in their faces if they had ulterior motives or were really in this to save Grace. King, who was staring lazily out the back window sat up straight, looked to Peters and demanded,

“Pull over.”

Peters looked in the rear view mirror amused, “What for?” he asked.

“That was Chung at the side of the road, I’m sure of it,” King declared sternly.

Peters didn’t wait for more information. The car jerked as it decelerated onto the shoulder sending a wash of mud spraying across the roads shoulder and then again as it began moving backwards. Peters’ face turned to look out the back window as he reversed. The car abruptly stopped. King’s door flew open.

Turning to look out the back window, Ethan saw King stoop by an unconscious Chung. He lay bleeding at the side of the road, soaked and covered in mud. Trails of water washed away from him like tiny dark rivers carrying his blood away off the side of the road into the thick forest. Ethan imagined the animals lurking on the other side of the wall of trees, drawn to the smell of blood like wolves and shuttered. Tracks leading towards Chung indicated the impact he had had with the wet muck as he hit the ground from a moving vehicle. Platt stepped out to give King a hand. Delicately they carried him to the car, placing his head on Ethan’s lap. King climbed back in to the now crowded and muddy back seat. He began looking over Chung’s wounds, checking his pulse and wiping muck from his wounds by ringing water from the sleeve of his dripping coat. Platt passed him a small first aid kit from the glove compartment. The vehicle smelled of dampness and blood, Ethan was reminded of the tunnel. He gritted his teeth as Chung lay unconscious in his lap.

“We good here?” Peters asked

King nodded, opening the first aid. The car sped forward, hydroplaning before winding back into traffic.

FLIGHT

Grace darted for the tree line after one glance back at the diner. Rain pelted her face. She slipped into a deep puddle before making it across the lot. Once under the cover of trees, bushes and roadside debris she felt safe. She peeked back to be sure her fumble hadn’t caught any attention. When she was sure that she was safe, she smiled and turned into the trees. She decided to continue on, as far from this diner as possible. Once they knew she was gone, they were sure to follow. She did not want to be within their range. Luckily she knew her father’s tracking dogs would be useless after this nasty storm. Any trace of her trail through the woods would be long gone before the night fell. Lightning struck close by as she ducked further into the trees, pulling Chung’s jacket tightly around her. The rumble was not long after.

Grace put the diner squarely behind her. Looking forward into the dripping trees, she took off. Jumping over logs, old tires and car parts, Grace found herself full of energy. The fresh air smelled slightly of gasoline, wet earth and metal but after ten years of stale air the thrill was overwhelming. Grace waded through a small creek filled with sharp rocks and broken glass, her feet throbbed as they bled. The further she got from the diner, the less debris cluttered the ground, making it softer on her tired bare feet. Keeping a good pace she continued uphill pausing at the top to listen for potential followers. Only the steady patter of rain overhead tapping off the last autumn leaves sounded. Grace was relieved. She even stopped for a moment to look up at the leaves still dropping in the rainfall, plummeting to the ground with more speed and less grace as they became covered in rain drops.

***

The in-house tech had called with the plate numbers. They had finally caught the car mid dump of Chung on a highway toll camera. Chung’s phone was still in the vehicle, giving them a dull signal to trace. Tech was on the phone with Platt confirming the location of the vehicle. Just their luck, it had stopped at a high traffic diner two minutes up the road and it was still there. Tech stayed on the line as a precaution if the vehicle left before they retrieved Grace.

“It sounds like a trap
,” Ethan muttered from the back of the speeding car. “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull over after dumping the body of a federal agent.” He looked at King to confirm his suspicion. King nodded, looking behind them at the cavalcade of vans following Peters on his Frogger style leap though the highway’s traffic.

“We have a team with us kid
,” King spoke quietly to Ethan afraid of waking Chung up in his state, crumpled across the backseat. “You just stay in the car okay?” he asked, looking to Ethan with a serious face.

Ethan nodded like a child, knowing that he would do whatever it took to get Grace back and that King’s stern words wouldn’t stop him from saving her if it came down to it. He quickly turned away from King’s stoic stare and looked out the window at the passing cars. The car had fallen into an awkward silence and he could feel the eyes of the three agents burning into the back of his head as they glanced at him over their shoulders.

Soon, they too were pulling off the highway and onto the gravel parking lot for Tina’s Diner. An old neon light flashed in the front window.
Open,
it read cheerfully blinking at a speed that was likely to cause a seizure for anyone sitting near it too long. Peters pulled the car behind their suspect, blocking their car from escaping while sending a wave of brown water over its rear bumper. The gravel parking lot was riddled with craters filled with brown murky water from the storm. Looking at it through the foggy glass of the back window, it looked even and calm.

“Stay
.” King looked to Ethan as he exited the car with Peters and Platt. Ethan nodded, craning his neck to look in the back of the other car for Grace. His hand hovered on the doorknob, ready to pounce if she needed him regardless of King’s orders.

King and Peters stood guarding with hands on their holsters, while Platt tinkered with a small kit opening the lock on the front door. With a click he pulled it open, pushing the automatic unlock button and the trunk release at the same time. The men rummaged through the car and all of its nooks and crannies. King stood back watching the door to the diner, grasping at his holster tightly whenever the door chimed. After a thorough search of the car twice over, they came to the conclusion that Grace was nowhere to be found within it. The men exchanged words outside where Ethan couldn’t hear. He strained to see though the watermarks on the window, hoping to read their lips. Ethan failed to understand anything from their short chat. Soon after it had ended King stayed by the car and the other two walked into the diner like spies in an old bond movie.

Ethan popped the door open an inch, startling King. He turned to look at Ethan, eyes wary, “Where is she, King?” he asked.

“Not here
.” King turned back, covering his eyes from the dripping rain. He stared intently at the doors to the diner, though they remained shielded from his vantage point.

“Is it the car?” Ethan prodded, fidgeting in the seat under the weight of Chung’s unconscious body.

“Yup, blood and chloroform, this is it.” King pointed to the car sitting quietly in the rain. “How’s Chung?” he looked in the window to catch a glimpse of his partner’s chest rising and falling in the pattern of a peaceful sleep. Peters had left the car running so the heat would keep him comfortable. They had covered his bare arms over with a shiny blanket from the emergency kit. He looked like he was going to space.

“He looks the same.” Ethan looked him over again lifting the shiny cover to see his bandages. Blood was seeping through most of his wrappings, mingling with the drying mud that plastered most of his body. He hadn’t regained consciousness. Ethan was no expert, but it didn’t look all that promising. Still, he was breathing steadily. Ethan tried to smile at King encouragingly. He could tell from the look that crossed King’s weary face that he didn’t believe Ethan one bit.

Shots fired inside the diner. King bumped the door closed with his hip and pulled his gun out of the holster on his belt. He stood, waiting, pointed at the diner while water dripped down his face into his eyes. Ethan went white, he was trapped under Chung and King was against the door holding it closed. What if Grace was in there? He squirmed, trying to get out, to get into the diner, to get to Grace. But King was pressed up firmly against the door holding it shut and Chung lay heavily across the seat, too fragile to move.

***

Peters and Platt had walked into the diner, holding their guns at their waists. After a quick glance around the tiny place they had walked right to the only two men wearing suits. At least they had made it easy. As they approached the small booth the men occupied near the window the men looked up. They had both reached their hands under the table before Platt and Peters had a chance to stop them.

“Where is the girl?” Platt asked quietly in a calm voice, directing their gaze his own hand holding a loaded weapon. He knew that they were both doing the same under the dinner table. “Make it fast
,” he added twitching his brows as he jolted his arm, threatening a fast trigger finger to the two kidnappers.

The first man had drawn his own gun. Not fast enough for Platt who had restrained him by reaching out and twisting his arm. He redirected the gunfire to the roof of the diner. The gunshot cracked through the small place, sending everyone ducking to the floor as plaster sprinkled down from the ceiling. Platt cracked the gun out of his hand and cuffed him while Peters was restraining his companion. They could hear whimpering under the table of the next booth. Quickly flashing their badges at the other patrons and staff cowering under the bar, they dragged their suspects out into the parking lot towards a trigger hungry King.