Freefall (9 page)

They stayed in the shadows for several minutes after the convoy passed. Finally, Brent turned to Amy and motioned for her to mount up as he did the same. He started forward, estimating they should be within an hour's ride from the port city.

After a few minutes they came over a rise and saw the first evidence that they were on the right path. The lights in the distance brought both relief and a sense of trepidation. Finally, the end of their long journey was in sight, but at that end was danger beyond any they had faced so far. Those tanks in the distance had been headed straight for the city.

Brent didn't know how they could secure transportation if the city was under attack, or whether there would even be any transportation available. For all he knew, the residents of the city could have vacated the same way the villagers several miles back had when the battles came too close.

Suddenly the trees were behind them, and the river opened up into the ocean. Realizing that the horses were about to become more of a hindrance than a help, Brent stopped and dismounted. He looked back to see Amy also dismounting.

They were both exhausted, but neither of them even considered stopping. Just a little farther and they might be able to get word out.

“Did you want to water the horses again?” Amy asked as she rolled her shoulders.

“We'll be too noticeable on horseback from here on,” Brent explained. “It's only about three or four more miles.”

Reluctantly, Amy nodded in agreement. She helped Brent remove the makeshift bridles so the horses would look like strays and then watched him bury the rope in the sand.

Brent dusted off his hands and turned to Amy. Surprising them both, he reached out and took Amy's hand in his, leading her down the stretch of beach. Everything was eerily quiet, but then Brent didn't imagine that many towns generated much sound at two in the morning.

They easily crossed the first mile and most of the second. Then they came upon a grouping of huts overlooking the beach. Using hand signals, Brent told Amy to stop. He listened for a moment before motioning her forward again. Together, they crept along the water's edge for over a half mile until they passed the cluster of huts.

They were barely clear of them when something rumbled in the distance. Grabbing her arm, Brent pulled Amy down to the sand. He ignored the pain shooting through his arm.

With Amy lying right beside him, Brent held a finger to his lips as the rumbling continued in the distance. Amy nodded in response, lying silently on the sand except for the pounding of her heart and her slow, deep breaths. Minutes passed by and still the rumbling continued. A moment later, the ground shook, followed by a flame shooting up into the sky.

Brent shifted to gauge the distance of the artillery. He knew instantly that it was now or never. “Stay close to me.”

Amy nodded, rolling onto her knees and then standing when she saw Brent stand up. He started out at a slow jog and then increased his speed when he realized that Amy was keeping up. They reached a pier five minutes later, and Brent led the way beneath it. He motioned for her to stay quiet, but he needn't have bothered.

He scanned the water for a boat that would serve their needs. Not finding any viable options, he continued down the last of the beach to where a rocky pass shielded them from whatever lay beyond. Slowly, they climbed the slippery rocks, reaching another stretch of beach just as another explosion rocked the ground.

Amy looked up at Brent to see him grinning.

She turned to see what he was looking at but was unable to make anything out in the darkness. She followed him another mile before she was able to identify the shadows in the distance as a small dock just outside of a beachside hotel. At the dock were several small motorboats.

They crept along the beach slowly, for once grateful for the lack of moonlight. They reached the dock, but instead of climbing onto it, Brent motioned for Amy to hide beside it.

Her eyes widened when he moved into the water toward the nearest boat. The sound of the waves masked any sound he might have made, and he quickly disappeared into the darkness. Another burst of fire shot into the air as the ground shook beneath them. Amy took a deep breath, not allowing herself to think of what might happen if they weren't successful now.

In the distance she heard screams followed by a burst of gunfire. She closed her eyes against what was happening in this country, knowing that she was powerless to stop the fighting. She had to focus instead on the war she could battle—the terrorism attempt on her own country.

She thought of her family and knew that no matter what, they had to get out of the DC area tonight. The subway in Washington was used by everyone, rich and poor alike. If these terrorists succeeded in their plan, the devastation could equal or even exceed that of 9/11. She remembered too vividly the day that airliners had crashed into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and that field in Pennsylvania. With her father, she had attended many of the funerals that had resulted from that day. If there was any way she could prevent it, she wasn't about to stand by while it happened again, no matter what the weapon was.

A wave crashed in front of her and suddenly Brent emerged from the water. He reached out and took her pack from her. He settled it onto his back and then motioned for her to enter the water with him.

The water was freezing and the weight of her clothes made it difficult to move, but she followed him along the side of one of the boats and then to the ladder that led up the back. Brent climbed up first, then dropped the pack on the floor before reaching down to help Amy climb in.

“Lie down,” Brent whispered as soon as she was in the boat.

Already shivering from the cold, Amy simply nodded and curled up on the floor as Brent moved to the steering wheel. A few seconds later the engine roared to life and Brent quickly headed straight out to sea.

A shout echoed from the beach, followed by a spray of gunfire. Brent increased his speed, staying low as they moved out of range of whoever was shooting from the beach.

Curious to know if they had a working radio, Amy crawled along the floor until she was beside Brent. “Can we send a message now?”

He shook his head. “We need to get into international waters,” he said as he checked the instruments. “As soon as we pass the twelve-mile mark, we'll radio in our position and pass on the information.”

“Why do we have to wait?”

“Abolstan has several naval vessels in this region. We'll be easy to find once we get on the radio, and I want to make sure our military can get someone to us before we get intercepted.”

“Do you think someone will be ready to come get us?”

“Don't worry,” Brent assured her. “My team will be waiting for us.”

Kel Bennett watched the latest news broadcast, his anger rising with each word that came out of the perky newscaster's mouth. His team had been on board the USS
Enterprise
for the past three days waiting for their chance to go in and get their missing man and the last hostage. With each day, his frustration had grown and doubts had begun to creep in.

He knew his decision to let Brent stay behind with the Whitmore girl was the right one, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Now that the whole world knew about it, the potential consequences of his decision took a drastic turn for the worse. “So help me, if I find out who leaked this information, I'm going to kill him.”

“Now, Commander,” Tristan drawled. “You know you wouldn't be able to do that.”

Kel turned and glared at Tristan. “You think I don't have the guts to kill whoever put this operation in jeopardy?”

Tristan grinned. “I know you've got the guts. I just don't think you'd be able to beat me to him.”

“Get back to work,” Kel growled, but not before the corner of his lips quirked up. He turned to Quinn, who was studying the map of the area. “What's the status of our rescue chopper?”

“It's standing by on deck.” Quinn tapped his finger on the map. “All of their destroyers are staying inside their territorial waters, but it looks like they're trying to make it hard for Miller to get out of there.”

“You know, we've all been assuming that he's heading for Khalar,” Tristan said, shifting the map so that they could look at the terrain. He pointed to the desert surrounding the capital city. “We know there's been heavy fighting in this area. If Brent had to detour, he may have changed plans.”

“But Khalar is closer.”

“Yeah, but if they couldn't get into these hills over here, they'd
be looking at a two-day walk through the middle of the desert,” Tristan pointed out. “They don't even have a tent with them. There's no way Brent would want to try that with a civilian, especially with a limited water supply. But that might explain why we haven't heard from him yet.”

“That's true,” Quinn agreed. “But if he comes through one of these smaller ports, we're completely out of position to pick them up.”

“Yeah, but so are the terrorists,” Kel noted.

Tristan nodded. “Do you want me to have the captain shift to the north just in case?”

“Yeah, and double-check to make sure our chopper is ready to go,” Kel ordered. “I don't want them to have another rough ride.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Brent studied his map using his penlight while Amy was at the wheel. He could see her shivering, but she had insisted that she could take over while he figured out which direction they should head. His unit would assume that he had headed for Khalar, which meant there would be a helicopter standing by somewhere within a few minutes of there, but since they had diverted to Bharat instead, they were off by more than thirty miles. That thirty miles could cause problems if their signal was picked up, but Brent didn't know whether they could afford to wait the extra time it would take to move to where their ride was likely waiting for them. If he was alone, he would just send the signal and take his chances, but with Amy—well, he just didn't think he could risk it.

“Turn a little more to the left,” Brent told her as he folded the map back up and stuck it in his pocket.

“What's wrong?” Amy asked, trying to hide the fact that her teeth were chattering.

“My unit is going to assume we're thirty miles to the south. If we signal as soon as we get to international waters, I'm not sure who will get to us first, our side or theirs.” Brent hesitated, finally opting for the truth. She had the right to know. “But if we wait to send a signal, we can't be sure our military can stop the assassin in time.”

“What would you do if I wasn't here?” Amy asked him.

“I'd send the message now,” Brent admitted.

“Then that's what we need to do.”

“It's only five more miles until we hit international waters. We'll send it then.”

* * *

“We've got them,” Kel announced as he shoved the phone back into place. “Let's roll.”

His team didn't have to be told twice. In less than three minutes, they were over the ocean scanning the darkness below. In the air, Kel briefed the rest of their team. Brent's communication gear wasn't functioning, so he had used an unsecured channel to send his location. There was little doubt that they hadn't been the only ones listening in on the conversation.

“ETA?” Kel asked the pilot.

“Six minutes.”

“Is there anything on the radar?”

“Yes, sir. It looks like a destroyer heading this way. Estimated time to intercept, eleven minutes.”

“We've only got a five minute window, tops,” Kel informed the rest of his team. “Check the harnesses. Let's get this done right.”

A few minutes later, they found what they were looking for. They flashed a signal and, in the darkness below, a boat's running lights switched on.

They lowered the harness and Brent helped Amy get strapped in. They brought her up slowly, all of them remembering how her last helicopter ride had ended. As soon as she reached the open doorway, Quinn and Tristan each grabbed one of her arms and pulled her securely inside as Kel unhooked her and sent down another harness.

“Get her strapped in,” Kel ordered, turning his attention to the destroyer that was closing in fast.

Quinn guided her to a seat and helped her buckle in. He recognized the early signs of hypothermia and shouted out to Tristan, “Get me a blanket back here.”

A light shot through the air, and Amy screamed as the helicopter rocked to the left. The helicopter then swung to the right and dropped altitude for a moment.

Kel kept his eye on the second harness and the man in it, who now dangled fifteen feet below the helicopter. “Let's get him in!”

Seth moved to Kel's side and together they steadily reeled Brent in despite the helicopter's drastic movements. Brent stretched out his hands and helped pull himself in as soon as he was in reach. He crawled into the helicopter and Seth immediately slammed the door.

Kel spoke into his mouthpiece. “All bodies in!”

The helicopter rose rapidly as they all strapped in. Brent claimed the seat between Amy and Quinn.

“Welcome back,” Quinn shouted to Brent. “Did you have a nice vacation?”

Ignoring him, Brent reached over and touched Amy's hand. She was still shivering and her hands felt like ice. Tristan passed him a blanket, but rather than use it for himself, he wrapped it around Amy's head and shoulders.

Turning his attention back to the problem at hand, Brent motioned to Quinn to give him his headset. Quinn handed it over, and Brent pulled it on, setting it so he could communicate with his team.

“We've got an assassination attempt on the DCI in Cairo. It's probably going to happen within the next day or two.”

“What?” Kel turned back to look at him even though Brent's voice was transmitting clearly. “Where did you get your intel?”