The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection With EXCLUSIVE Post-Shiva Short Story (32 page)

“Of course, of course,” he said, though it was obvious he hadn’t heard a word she had said.

“Can I hot-wire a plane?” Lopez snorted as he passed. “I could be blinded and have a hand tied behind my back… No wait, that’s Davidson!”

Even Svengurd laughed, but the private grimaced. “Very funny.”

The men seemed jovial as they walked onto the street level. Luckily, due to the party at Parliament, no one had yet investigated the damage.

As she crested the lip of the cavern, Rebecca pulled to a halt. Before her glistened Buda. Perched over the Danube, the city twinkled against the night sky. The sparkling Chain Bridge was as beautiful as any monument on the seven continents. The ancient Castle quarter nearly glowed and the much newer Parliament building glittered with a thousand points of lights. The sight was breathtaking.

No one else seemed to notice the jewel across the river as Lochum sat upon the nearest curb to study his cherished relic.

Then someone paused beside her. Even after being doused in a million gallons of water, Rebecca could still recognize Brandt’s scent on the fresh night air. They stood silently scanning the bright horizon.

The sergeant’s tone sounded pained. “Look, the military’s got strict rules about…”

“Really, you don’t need to evoke protocol just to protect my feelings.” Before he could say anything else, Rebecca walked toward Lochum. He, she understood. He didn’t bring blood to her cheeks and other parts south.

What did they always say? Go with the devil you know?

Right?

CHAPTER 18

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Budapest Ferenc Liszt International Airport

Lopez was earning his salary today. That was for damned sure. The corporal had stolen a Volvo station wagon, gotten them to the airstrip, and hot-wired a private jet in under a half an hour. If there were bonus pay for efficiency, Lopez would be cleaning up.

“All right, everyone strap in,” Brandt ordered.

Lochum gave a thumbs-up, but Rebecca still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Chicks.

They made everything so damned complicated. He was on duty, for Christ’s sake. It was bad enough he had gone off-book to track her down in Budapest, but now he was escorting them all the way to Istanbul. What else did she want from him?

“And now if everyone would please place their stewardess in her upright and locked position,” their slightly sleep-deprived pilot announced over the intercom.

Davidson openly laughed. Svengurd chuckled under his breath. Lochum even smirked, but Brandt growled, “Lopez.”

The corporal leaned out of the cockpit. “Sorry, boss. Control’s asking for a flight plan.”

“Tell them Athens, Greece. We’ll update in-flight.”

“You got it,” Lopez said as he fired up the engines.

As the corporal taxied them down the runway, Brandt glanced at Rebecca. Her eyes were fixed on James’ bone. He got the feeling it wasn’t so much in service to her studies but more to avoid him.

The small luxury liner shuddered as Lopez revved the engine. This plane, with its leather seats, thick shag carpeting, and lilac-scented napkins seemed more used to ferrying Budapest’s elite around Europe than making a Lopez speed getaway.

Within seconds they received their all-clear for takeoff and were in the air. In typical fashion, the corporal turned on the “seat belt” sign, which Brandt promptly ignored. He motioned for Davidson to unbuckle as well. They met at the cockpit.

“All right, Lopez, time for you get some shut-eye.”

The corporal shook his head violently. “This baby’s a Learjet 60. I specifically stole this model so I could see what airspeed I could reach.”

Brandt put his hand on Lopez’s shoulder to let him know how serious he was. “Davidson is cleared for level and steady flight. Just get us up to cruising speed, and then get some rest. We’ll get you up when its time to land.”

“But—”

He squeezed even tighter. The grip was no longer a friendly gesture, but instead a warning.

Lopez looked at Davidson, who shrugged as he plopped down in the copilot’s seat. “Hey, dude, I just do what I’m ordered.”

But it was quite clear the kid was itching to get behind the yoke. The corporal sighed and began to transfer the controls to his copilot.

“On my count. Three. Two. One—”

Before he finished, Rebecca called from behind, “Did you feel that?”

Her voice was shrill. Much higher than normal. Brandt glanced at Lopez and Davidson, but they both shook their heads.

“Svengurd?”

The tall man frowned. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, what?”

Brandt need not have asked, as an explosion to their right nearly knocked them from the sky. Instinctively, Lopez banked steeply left.

“That wasn’t a missile, was it?”

Davidson looked out his window. “Hell, yes. Here comes another!”

Brandt stumbled backward as the corporal pulled out of the bank and brought the nose nearly vertical. They ascended at an insane rate.

“You’re going to stall her!” Davidson screamed over the roar of the engines.

But Lopez ignored his copilot as another explosion sounded beneath them, shuddering the entire plane. They climbed so steeply that he feared the wings would rip off, yet Lopez wore his trademark shit-eating grin.

“I told you, she’s a Learjet 60!”

“Incoming!” Svengurd called from the cabin.

Maybe he should have kept his seat belt on, as he was thrown to the left when Lopez not only banked at ninety degrees but dropped the nose down.

“I’m telling you, you’re going to stall! Pull up!” Davidson yelled.

Brandt felt the next explosion in his bones, yet the plane somehow stayed aloft.

“Another!” Svengurd yelled. “From the south! They must be using radar!”

They were trying to triangulate them. Another few missiles and they would be had. Lopez was good, but he couldn’t outrun radar.

This time the explosion sounded from above, raining down a shower of red-hot debris. Yet the corporal didn’t err in his descent.

“Pull up!” Davidson shouted, and Brandt could see why. The ground was rushing up at them, then the engines cut out. He knew because the metal beneath his feet suddenly stopped shuddering, and it felt like his heart had just been transplanted to his throat.

“I told you, you would stall!” Davidson yelled.

* * *

Rebecca tried not to stare out the window, but that was all her eyes wanted to do. They were plummeting back to the earth with no engines, and explosions all around. The sky looked like a fireworks display, only it was not the Fourth of July, and it was no longer fun.

“Damn it, Lopez, pull up!” Davidson yelled, but the pilot seemed wholly unfazed by the brilliant blasts. If anything, he looked like he was having fun.

Next to her, Lochum clutched James’ bone to his chest. Was that a prayer upon his lips? Yet she refused to despair. They could not have come so far and through so much to end up pulverized. And as the seconds ticked by, it looked more and more like that was exactly how her life was going to end.

Now she was glad that she had kissed Brandt.

Their freefall was interrupted as the plane complained violently as Lopez tried to bring the nose up.

“Finally!” Davidson screamed.

“Shut up and help!” the corporal answered.

Rebecca strained against her seat belt to look into the cockpit. Both men were pulling with all their might. The veins bulged over their well-muscled arms. Even Brandt tugged up on Lopez’s yoke.

It felt as if the plane hiccupped. Then the engines kicked in, throwing her back against her seat. That had to have been a couple of Gs worth of force as they barely leveled out over a suburban housing development. They flew so low that Rebecca could see rooftops blowing off in their wake.

“Wahoo!” Lopez yelled as he kept them barely above ground level.

“Gain altitude!” Davidson shouted, but to deaf ears. Lopez was too busy slaloming between light poles and traffic signs.

“Damn it, Lopez!” Brandt threatened as the sound of the punished engines drowned out nearly everything else.

“Check out the missiles!” the corporal yelled back.

For a moment Rebecca did not know what he was talking about, but Brandt seemed to immediately understand. “Keep us below the radar floor, but not this low.”

Rebecca looked at Svengurd, who monitored their progress through the window next to hers. He pointed to an explosion far off to their left. With the general mayhem, she hadn’t even heard the continuing explosions. “They can’t track us.”

With a new regard, Rebecca looked to Lopez who had steadied them off several hundred feet above the passing terrain. He put a hand up for a high five, but Davidson did not take the bait.

“I told you, you were going to stall her!”

Lopez stroked the yoke like a lover. “Only because I asked her to. Only because I asked. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Why would you—” Davidson stopped himself mid-sentence, then finished the high-five slap. “You
do
rule.”

Confused, Rebecca looked at Svengurd. “He purposefully stalled the engines to cool them in case they were using heat-seeking missiles.”

Lopez looked at Brandt. “Still want me to turn over the wheel, Sarge?”

The sergeant didn’t even bother answering. He just headed back to his seat. He moved too quickly for her to avert her gaze, but Brandt just rolled his eyes at the corporal’s enthusiasm, then plopped down into his seat. Within seconds his lids were closed, and he seemed to be fast asleep.

For not the first time in the past forty-eight hours, Rebecca knew she had to get herself one of these men for her research team.

The Path Ahead

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Judea

AD 42

Judas had only gotten halfway up the hill to his family’s home when his leg complained so loudly that he had to stop and lean against a neighbor’s garden post. He flexed the leg up and down trying to drain the ache from it. All the more reason for him to stay in town. He would not wish to slow Jesus’ travels, but his friend’s sad countenance refused to leave his mind. Judas reassured himself that with time this sense of guilt would fade.

He pushed off the fence and tested his leg when Mary came rushing up the hill, shawl fluttering at her shoulders, revealing her dark hair. Judas could not remember the last time he had seen her hair. It certainly had to be awhile, for there were gray streaks throughout, revealing her age.

“Judas,” she said as she caught up with him. “I thought you were joining us?”

By her tone, he was sure she did not mean just for dinner. “Jesus must have told you my reasons.”

Her tone was sharp. “You cannot abandon him.”

Trying to remember that this was Jesus’ mother, Judas evened his tone. “I abandon no one, Mary. Ameil’s need is simply greater.”

She sighed and sat upon the fence’s rail, patting the place next to her. He was reluctant to comply. What sort of mood was the woman in? Given all the years they had known one another, Mary had not given him two kind words put together. He would have thought her the first to give him leave.

“Please, there is something I must share with you,” she said.

Tentatively Judas sat down beside her, testing the wood to make sure she did not intend to pull it out from under him. But she did nothing of the sort. Instead, her visage became melancholy as she looked up to the stars.

“Did you know that when the angels sing, they are so precisely in accord that you cannot separate one’s voice from the other?”

“No. No, I did not.” Judas tried to keep the shame from his voice. This family was so used to God’s great blessings they seemed to forget he was but a poor sinner limping his way to grace.

“When they came to me and told me of God’s child growing in my belly, I did not doubt that I was worthy.” Unconsciously she rubbed her midriff. “I gave no mind to the rumors that I had lain with that harvesting boy from Selgea. I knew the truth of it. I was to be Christ’s mother. It was as natural as taking in my breath. I honestly worried more about the color of my wedding ribbons than I did about raising the Son of God.”

Judas nodded, but she did not notice. Mary seemed lost to memory.

“You know of my labor in the stable, but what you do not know of was the fear that gripped my heart.”

Judas nodded. “I was forced to help my sister with her last child. There is no shame in dreading such pain.”

Mary shook her head absently. “The searing agony I expected, but the first time Jesus squalled such a perfect cry that the wail echoed the angel’s song, I knew that I did not deserve to be his mother. When the men from the East arrived with their riches and knowledge, I begged them to take Jesus from my unworthy arms and raise him to be the savior that he was destined to be.”

Judas stayed silent. Mary had never seemed anything but praiseworthy as a mother. The woman had raised a brood of the finest men and women he had ever had the honor of knowing. Judas could not imagine how remote Jesus would have become if left in the hands of scholars, no matter how rich they might be.

“But they refused. They told me that my love for him was both my blessing and my curse. My blessing because I would know a love that eclipsed all else. My curse because I could never leave his side. He would grow to suffer greatly, and I could never abandon him to such agony. They told me frankly that his pain would become my own.”

Judas could see the path where Mary was headed, and he wished to outflank her. “As I feel of Ameil. He is my—”

Mary interrupted him. “This night Jesus instructed me to take the money I had been saving to buy the cloth for the thick, embroidered robes he would need when the day came for him teach in the Temple at Jerusalem and add it to the moneys Magdalene had donated.”

“I do not understand.”

“You heard what he told James. There was no need to account past Passover. He intends to provoke the Romans. He intends to be arrested within the year, and you know of what doom that speaks.”

Judas stood up, uncaring of the complaint of his leg at such sudden movement. “I am sorry, Mary, for I did not wish to speak harshly, but you speculate wildly.”