BRAINRUSH 02 - The Enemy of My Enemy (23 page)

“Man, am I ever glad to hear from you!” Jake said.

“Hey, Jake,” Kenny’s voice chimed in.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Jake said. “I know it couldn’t have been easy getting the approvals.”

“Uh…yeah,” Cal said. “What’s your SITREP?”

“We have to get Francesca to a hospital in the next few hours,” Jake said. He felt her stiffen at the news. He hadn’t told her about the chemical yet. “What’s your ETA?”

“Fifteen minutes. The Falcon will keep you company until we get there.”

“Negative,” Jake said. “Tony and the rest are somewhere along the underground river. Battista’s boys are tracking them as we speak. They need our help. Send the drone to sweep the area between the ranch and the Gulf. Then floorboard the Osprey and pick us up ASAP.”

“Did you say Battista? I thought that bastard was dead!”

“Yeah, me too. He’s back. Big time.”

“Holy shit! I don’t like the idea of leaving you without cover, buddy. Falcon-Two is already gridding the river track—”

Jake weighed the risks. The narcos would be occupied at the airfield, at least for a short while. Even if they headed straight up the mountain, the Osprey would beat them here by at least five minutes.

“We don’t need the cover, Cal. And if you don’t find our friends soon, Battista’s goons will.” Jake hesitated when he heard a beep from the phone. The low-battery icon was flashing. “Just divert the drone. We’ll be fine on our own until you catch up to us.”

“Already done,” Kenny interjected. The drone banked sharply away and disappeared over a ridge.

The phone beeped again. “I’m going to lose com any second,” Jake said. “We’ll wait for you at the plateau just up the road. Beat feet, guys.”

“Wilco, boss. See you in—”

The line went dead. Jake pocketed the phone and turned to Francesca.

“Hospital?” she said. Her voice quivered.

Jake gripped her shoulders. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“But I feel fine,” she said. Her eyes narrowed in that familiar manner that told Jake she had opened her empathic senses to him. It was time she learned the truth.

“It’s a chemical,” Jake said.

Francesca’s face paled. “What kind of chemical?”

Their attention was drawn to a large explosion that echoed up from the valley below. It was followed by the chatter of multiple assault rifles.

“Back in the jeep!” Jake shouted. He grabbed the AK and moved to the ridgeline. The DC3 had landed. The lead terrorist and his men ran from cover and launched themselves up the extended staircase into the plane. They were attempting to make good their escape.

But the narcos weren’t about to let them leave without a fight. Their vehicles were less than a quarter-mile away from the airfield and closing the distance fast. There was a flash from the bed of a pickup truck, followed by a rope of smoke that arced toward the plane. A large explosion ripped through the tarmac fifty yards short of the hangar. A half-beat later the sound from the blast reached Jake and Francesca’s position, framed by the staccato cracks of automatic weapons.

The DC3 began moving before the last of the terrorists had climbed aboard. As it picked up speed, another rocket-propelled grenade exploded in its wake. Two of the fleeing terrorists stumbled short of the plane’s doorway.

Jake sighted through the AK’s scope to get a better view. He watched the scene unfold. The two men were back on their feet. They abandoned their assault weapons and sprinted toward the retreating aircraft. The DC3 turned onto the runway. Hands waved encouragement from its open doorway. Automatic fire from the vehicles increased. With the shortened range, Jake suspected some of the rounds would impact the aircraft. The plane leapt forward. The pilot had apparently abandoned any thoughts of waiting for the last of his passengers. The gap between the DC3 and the last two terrorists widened. They waved their arms frantically.

The aircraft lifted off. The narcos’ vehicles bolted onto the runway and surrounded the remaining soldiers. Though the two men still had their sidearms, they chose not to use them. Instead, the
jihadists
knelt on the tarmac. They faced east and bowed their heads in prayer.

The narcos exited their trucks and jeeps, rifles slung behind shoulders. There were nearly twenty men. They closed in on the two soldiers, and pulled machetes from side holsters. The gruesome chopping motions of the circle of men twisted Jake’s gut and triggered a new bout of stomach cramps. He doubled over in pain. He’d hoped, wrongly, that the cramps had subsided for good.

Wiping the sheen of sweat that had formed on his brow, he straightened himself. The DC3 climbed past their position a thousand feet overhead. The terrorists were safely away.

But I’m on to your plan, asshole. I’ll be seeing you again soon.

He used the scope for a final look at the airfield. The narcos abandoned the carcasses. They were making their way back to their vehicles when Jake noticed two of them hesitate. One of them extended an arm in Jake’s direction. The other cupped his hands to his eyes.

Jake ducked beneath the ridge. There was no way they could see him from that distance, could they? No, he thought, as he crouched out of sight.
We’re fine.
And then he remembered the dust trail he’d left in the jeep. He risked a quick peek.

Three of the vehicles were headed his way.  Damn it, Jake thought. Even though the Osprey would pick them up before the narcos made it halfway up the hills, he still didn’t like the idea that they were on his tail. If those dudes caught up to them and recognized Jake as the man who’d originally taunted their leader…

He ran toward the jeep, leapt into the driver’s seat, and punched the gas. The wheels spit a cloud of dust and gravel as they bit into the earthen road.

**

Cal studied the shrub-covered landscape that stretched out before the aircraft, checking for signs of activity. Sure, the effort was likely futile since one of the drones had already cleared the area, but Cal wasn’t about to sit around twiddling his thumbs while the computer-driven eyes in the sky did all the work. Old habits were hard to break.

He pushed the CV-22 to its maximum speed of two hundred seventy-five knots. They were headed toward the choppy mountain range that broke the horizon forty miles ahead. Jake and Francesca were up there and they needed his help.

“We should be over their position in ten minutes,” he said, making a small course adjustment.

“Roger that.” Kenny sat at the UAV console in the belly of the Osprey. “That cell phone Jake had must have lost battery because I can’t pull ’em up.”

“Anything at all from the Falcons?”

“A few more trucks and cars, but no sign of Tony and the crew. They must still be underground. I wish like hell I’d equipped the birds with ground-penetrating radar…”

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. One step at a time. First we pick up Jake and Francesca, and then we’ll double back and locate the others.”

“I guess. It’s just that—” He stopped for a beat, then: “I’ve got something. Emergency beacon. Northeast. Diverting Falcon-One for a closer look.”

Cal felt his blood race.

“A second beacon!” Kenny reported. “And another, and…two, no…make that three more!”

“Distance?”

“Thirty miles, bearing zero five zero. It’s on your screen now.”

The blinking icon on Cal’s heads-up display (HUD) was identified as Tango-1. They could be overhead in five or six minutes, he thought. But it may or may not be their friends. And in the meantime, Francesca needed to get to a hospital.

“How long before the Falcon can get us a visual?” he said, maintaining his current course.

“One minute.”

They pressed forward toward the mountains, getting further and further away from the source of the emergency signals. Cal’s fingers seemed to itch at the controls. A growing part of him wanted to divert to the beacons.

“I need that visual, Kenny.”

“Zooming,” Kenny reported, drawing the word out as he focused on the screen. “It’s a sinkhole. I can see the river…it’s Sarafina! And Lacey’s lying next to her. She looks injured.”

Cal snapped the Osprey into a sharp bank to port. “It looks like Jake and Francesca are going to have to wait a bit longer,” he said. He was glad they weren’t in any immediate danger.

**

Jake scanned the sky. He expected to hear the distinctive sound of the Osprey’s rotors any moment.

He and Francesca stood beside the jeep at the evac point. The dirt road had flattened on a plateau about the length of a football field, just wide enough to make it a suitable landing site for the Osprey. The terrain fell off sharply to one side of the expanse and a boulder-strewn incline rose from the other. A hundred yards ahead, the serpentine road disappeared around a bend before resuming its climb into the barren peaks of the mountain range.

She took his hand. “The drug they gave me,” she said. “Tell me about it.”

This was a conversation Jake had hoped to avoid until they’d made it to the hospital. He pulled the wrapped bundle of vials out of his pocket. “We’re going to figure out which of these is the antidote. You’ll be fine.”

“Or else?”

Jake pocketed the vials, then gripped her shoulders to steady her. “Or else you will no longer be able to conceive,” he said softly.

Her momentary bewilderment morphed into a look of horror. “What? Why?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I prom—”

“I don’t want platitudes, Jake.” She twisted from his grasp and placed her hands on her hips. “I want the facts, and I want them now.”

Jake blew out a breath and gave her a quick summary of what he’d learned from the doctor’s journal.

“
Dio mio
,” Francesca said. “These men are evil incarnate.”

“And I’m going to stop them,” Jake said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

Francesca’s head canted slightly to one side, her familiar expression leaving little doubt that she knew he was holding something back.

“There is one more thing,” he said. He felt his eyes moisten. “The baby…won’t make it without the antidote.”

All the breath went out of her.

Jake moved to embrace her, but she stepped back. “You listen to me, Jake Bronson,” she said. “Nothing is going to happen to this baby. We won’t allow it
. Capito
?”

Jake nodded. “You got that right,” he said. He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

“We got in this together,” she said. “We will get out of it the same way. Besides, the plane should be here shortly,
si
?”

Jake checked his watch and the knot in his gut tightened. The Osprey should have been overhead two minutes ago. It’s not like Cal and Kenny to miss ETA by such a margin, not when they were so close in the first place.

He peered over the edge of the escarpment. Three vehicles bounced their way up the road, with a thick cloud of dust behind them. One was well ahead of the others—a large SUV with tinted windows. At its present pace it would reach their position in less than ten minutes.

  “Time for plan B,” he said, heading back to the jeep for the spare gas can. The vehicle had sputtered earlier as they’d made the crest. They’d be lucky if the remaining fumes were enough to restart the engine. He’d top it off so they could stay ahead of the narcos until the Osprey arrived.

The moment he unlatched the buckle securing the can, Jake knew there was a problem. The can rocked easily under his grasp. It was empty.

He grabbed the AK-47 from the jeep and rechecked the magazine. Five rounds. Not much to work with against three truckloads of very pissed-off cartel boys.

He glanced around. There was a large outcrop fifty feet up the rocky incline that abutted the road.

Francesca laid her hand on his arm. “What shall we do?”

A plan unfolded in his mind.  It wasn’t perfect, but it should at least protect Francesca. He took her hand. “Come with me.”

Chapter 43

Beneath the Sonoran Desert, Mexico

T
ony watched stone-faced as the last of the flames in the limestone chimney flickered out. The waiting was the worst part. He huddled with the others, wondering what the men up above would do next.

His thoughts were answered by explosive retort of an assault rifle on full auto. High-velocity slugs hammered into the blackened rock beneath the vent, ricocheting around the cavern. Not very original, Tony thought grimly. But you’ve definitely got our attention.

“Infidel pigs!” a voice yelled down from above. “You killed my brother!”

Tony heard another man’s shout of alarm. It seemed to be directed away from them. The voice was quickly drowned out by long bursts from multiple automatic weapons. This time none of the rounds made their way down the vent.

“There’s a firefight up top!” he said.