No Good Deed (37 page)
And then it was over.
“Fuck,” Blitz said.
Sean continued to speed up and almost immediately they were at the top of the small mountain. He prayed his plane hadn’t been discovered. There was no way to get to Kane’s plane except by going back the way they came—directly through enemy territory.
He floored it once they hit the clearing. The moon was rising and he would be able to see better—but that also meant their enemy would be able to see them.
He stopped the jeep next to the plane. As soon as he turned off the ignition, he heard their pursuers.
It sounded like a fucking army was after them.
There were shouts and orders in the distance, and at least one vehicle though it seemed that most of the gang was on foot, but Sean didn’t see anyone. Yet.
Blitz opened the doors, and he and Ranger slid Kane onto the floor of the plane where Sean had taken out the extra two seats. Sean’s little Cessna 185 had little comfort, but many unseen bells and whistles. Sean climbed in and turned the ignition. He needed to get this baby warmed up fast. He’d long ago upgraded the engine with more horsepower, but planes weren’t like cars. They couldn’t go from zero to sixty in six seconds.
He slowly started to roll.
“You gotta be faster, kid,” Ranger said.
“Close the door,” Sean ordered.
“I need line of sight,” Blitz said, his gun out and ready to fire on anyone who emerged from the mountain.
“I need to fucking get us off the ground! Close the damn door!”
Blitz complied. Sean pushed his plane, knowing what it was capable of, but needing more out of it than he’d ever asked. He couldn’t see directly in front of him because his nose was up, the two front tundra tires much larger than the small tail wheel in the back. He glanced behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of Kane, but Blitz was sitting in the rear-facing seat, blocking Sean’s view.
Sean glanced out the side window and saw headlights among the trees. Shit. He’d have to pop the plane off the ground and try to build more speed by flying several feet from the surface. It was dangerous, but at this point if he didn’t do something the men coming up the mountain would open fire. He’d reinforced his plane and windows, but weight was always an issue and Sean couldn’t put in all the safety features he wanted. With enough firepower, Juarez’s men could take out the engine and crash the plane.
“Hold on,” Sean said through clenched teeth.
He’d only done this once before, but he could hear his first flight instructor Deborah in his ear.
“Be the plane, Sean. You’re a natural.”
He wished Deborah were here now. She was the only person he’d admit was a better pilot than he was.
A bullet hit Sean’s window and it cracked. One more direct hit and it would be gone. If he hadn’t swapped the cheap plexi-glass with sturdier material, he’d be dead.
Sean didn’t think anymore, he acted on instinct. Another bullet hit the plane, but he blocked out the danger and concentrated on the push and pull of the yoke to pop off the ground. He had to get the wheels up to minimize the drag and gain more speed.
It worked. Only five or so feet off the ground, but he already felt the engine respond. The thin air wasn’t doing him any favors, but the cooler evening helped. He wouldn’t have been able to do this at high noon. All the lights in the cockpit were good. His controls looked good. He could do this.
The Cessna straightened and leveled off. Sean’s heart raced as a jeep and two men popped into view, only fifty feet in front of him. He didn’t have time to think; he immediately pulled back on the yoke. If his wheels hit the vehicle, they were toast.
That he cleared the jeep and didn’t crash was a miracle in itself, but they weren’t clear yet. The two men now behind them sprayed bullets at the plane and Sean felt every hit as if it were his own body. The plane dipped and he compensated. But something was off. The controls felt mushy. The plane dropped again and hit ground, bouncing all of them hard. Kane grunted from the back. Sean almost had enough speed.
Get the damn plane in the air.
He pulled up on the yoke and this time, the plane didn’t dip down. Suddenly there was no ground at all. He was off the mountain. He felt another ping of a bullet and the plane suddenly yawed to the left.
“Shit!”
“What?” Blitz demanded.
“Left tire is blown.” That would make landing a load of fun. Sean straightened the plane and gained altitude.
He looked at his controls and gauges. Only one system was completely down—the one system he’d installed himself. Communications.
But the plane still felt mushy. He couldn’t see the wings, but he suspected there were some holes in them. He banked slowly south. The plane wasn’t responding well, he wouldn’t be performing any tricks. They needed to circumvent Monterrey because traveling over the Mexican city would alert authorities.
“How is he?” Sean asked.
“I can hear you,” Kane said. His voice was weak. Sean heard Ranger tearing open Kane’s clothes.
“Shit, boss.”
“Just get me to Padre.”
“Padre can’t fix this,” Ranger said quietly. “You need a hospital. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Did you stop the bleeding?” Blitz asked.
“I’m trying.”
The plane tilted from the sudden movement as Blitz and Ranger worked on Kane.
“Don’t move any more than you have to,” Sean said. His jaw was clenched so tight his head ached.
“How long, Little Rogan?” Blitz asked.
“Hour.” Though he wasn’t sure the plane was going to make it. “I lost communications. I can’t alert Padre or air traffic control.”
“Cell communications?”
“There are places where we might pick up a signal, but I lost my transmitter. My left wheel is flapping rubber and there’re holes in the wing.”
“Are we going to reach Hidalgo?”
“Yes.”
I hope.
“He needs blood,” Ranger said.
“My satchel,” Kane said.
“That can wait, boss.”
Silence, then there was movement in the back. Sean winced and compensated. His maneuverability sucked. He had to continue to work the rudders to counter the yaw of the blown tire. He’d be tense until they landed.
Kane said, “I tracked the bastard who kidnapped Siobhan. He’s a fed. Dover, agent out of Mexico City.”
Kane shifted and groaned.
“Boss, I stopped the bleeding, but you still have a bullet in you.”
“Get it out.”
“No.”
“It’s an order.”
“Fuck that, I open up the wound and you’ll bleed to death.”
“Kane and I have the same blood type,” Sean said. “Can you do a field transfusion?”
“Too risky,” Ranger said. “And you need to fly this bucket of bolts.”
“I’m not going to let my brother bleed to death. Where’s he hit?”
“Thigh and back. Near his kidneys. I stopped the bleeding. As long as we get him to the hospital—then we’ll take your blood. But I’m not going to fucking do surgery in a plane that’s falling apart around us.”
Blitz came forward and sat in the copilot’s seat. The plane tilted again and Sean swore. “Shit, Blitz. Buckle up.” It had seemed to take forever to get the damn plane to turn. He had to take it slow and wide. But he was finally heading in the right direction.
“You’re bleeding,” Blitz said to Sean.
“A guard at the jeep. He was given orders to leave. I stopped him.”
Blitz looked at Sean’s arm under a penlight. “Knife. Deep. We need to clean it up, kid. You’ll need stitches.”
“Do it and don’t tell me.”
He winced as Blitz sprayed antiseptic on his arm. “It ain’t gonna be pretty, but it’ll be better than nothing.”
Sean withstood the pain of the needle as Blitz put several stitches in his arm. He glued the edges to seal the cut, then taped on a loose bandage.
Blitz handed two horse-sized pills to Sean. “We don’t know where that knife has been. Take these.”
Sean did as he was told and guzzled an entire water bottle.
“Well, that was fun.” Blitz leaned back in the copilot’s seat and closed his eyes.
Sean wasn’t certain he was being sarcastic.
Nicole woke up to Joseph talking on the phone. She’d fallen asleep on the couch reading stupid, boring emails to and from Logan Dunbar. Sure, there was some information in here that might be beneficial to them later, but nothing that pointed at who stole her money.
She stretched and her back cracked. She walked over to the coffeepot on the bar and poured herself a cup of hot black coffee. Joseph squeezed her hand and continued his conversation.
Or rather, continued listening. The expression on his face was rigid. Something bad had happened.
“Send me everything you have,” Joseph said. “Don’t argue, just do it. To me, understand?”
He hung up and rubbed his eyes.
“You need sleep,” she said.
“Rogan got away. Those bastards shot him, had him cornered, and he fucking got out.”
“This is like a bad joke. We set the trap and he avoids damage like the Road Runner cartoon.”
“His days of running will soon be over. The report says he was seriously injured.”
“We can’t assume anything.”
“They had dozens of people on his tail, and somehow his men found and extracted him. No one knows how the fuck they found him, but they know how he got away. Two men, one black and one white, carried him out under gunfire. Then—get this—Sean Rogan flew the plane out of Mexico.”
“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”
“Juarez is sending us photos, but he recognized the Rogan brothers on sight. Jimmy had Adam Dover killed when he let the redhead and Kane slip away the first time—if he was ID’d, his time was up anyway. But Rogan grabbed his wallet and phone and knows who he is.”
Nicole sat heavily on a bar stool. “Okay—we can adjust. We knew that Dover could be made if the feds looked deep into my file. I’m surprised it took them three months to uncover it.”
“I spoke to Maggie again. The feds she spoke to were from the FBI, and our contact learned late last night that our favorite bitch is the one who put it together. She spoke to your brother, dissected your entire personnel file.” He slid over a thin packet. “This is your profile, darling. I didn’t know Kincaid was a profiler.”
Nicole grabbed the papers and flipped through them. Words and phrases jumped out at her.
Rollins is in charge; Tobias is a figurehead …
Rollins is ruthless …
… money is her primary reason for staying local …
… narcissistic …
… resents the DEA, blames the DEA for her father’s death …
… the murder of John Rollins should be reopened …
… her uncle is Jimmy Hunt, a wanted fugitive who fled five years ago …
“How the
hell
does she know all this?”
“Your brother was
very
chatty.”
“I should have killed him long ago.”
“He’s never been a problem until someone asked the right questions.”
Nicole screamed and crumbled the papers in her fist. “That
bitch
! What gives her the right to psychoanalyze me? Like she can possibly know me?” She took a deep breath. “At least they haven’t made all the connections. But if Elise opens her mouth again—”
“My concern is that Kincaid knows your house in San Antonio was a cover. We dismantled the safe house in the city, but if they’re looking for safe houses, it’s only a matter of time before they find this place.”
“How?”
“I’m good, Niki. Very good. But there are property records. It’ll take someone very sharp to connect the company that owns this property to us, but we need to leave the country. You’re not safe.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t lose you, Niki. I would rather die.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “I don’t deserve you, Joseph.”
“It’s the other way around,” he whispered.
The door opened and both Nicole and Joseph pulled their weapons.
Tobias.
Nicole feared for a minute that Joseph would shoot him, but he slowly lowered his gun.
“You fucking idiot,” Joseph said.
“Screw you.”
“Stop,” Nicole said. “We don’t have the time to argue.”
Tobias glared at them. “You talked to my dad? He wants me in Mexico
now
. That’s fucked.”
“It’s for your own good, Toby. We need to lay low until we get the money.”
Tobias handed her his phone. “Look at the pictures.”
She did. Lucy Kincaid. Going into her house. Leaving her house. Never alone. She recognized Nate Dunning from the FBI, but not the old guy, and not the half-Hispanic guy who came in late last night. “You went to her
house
?”
“I didn’t do anything, just watched. Too many people are keeping tabs on her, but I thought if I could grab her we’d have leverage.”
“Do not touch her! Fuck, Toby! The wrath of God will come down on us, and we don’t have time for it before we get the money. Remember the bigger plan. We’ll take care of her when it’s time.”
“No one is that well protected,” Tobias said.
You are
, she wanted to say, but didn’t.
Tobias tossed her the flash drive he’d taken. “Lyle and I went through the files, made a list of every name in every email over the last two weeks. Some high-up fed named Dean Hooper authorized the operation to take our money, but he’s in Sacramento.”
She wanted to strangle him and kiss him—the names! Whoever did it would be on record. She’d read the legal briefs, but they didn’t name anyone specifically. Just a
civilian consultant
.
“Let me see it,” she said.
“Go to the notes app on my phone.”
She did and scrolled through.
“Did you know that Kane Rogan is in surgery in Hidalgo?” Tobias continued. “He slipped away.
Again
.” He glared at Joseph.
Joseph tensed and Nicole put her hand on his arm. “Stop it,” Nicole said. “We’re in this together, Tobias. Don’t bait Joseph. We know what happened with Rogan, Juarez, and Dover.”
