Survival (32 page)

Jet looked up at where Franco stood with the shotgun, staring down at the smoking remains of the dead gunman killed by the flare. Matt moved around the pew to her. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Just a little bruised. You?”

“A few scrapes.”

“Where’s Hannah?”

“Safe. We hid her in a tunnel that’s the back way out of the monastery.”

“We?”

“Oh. Sorry. That’s Franco. He’s the brother of the truck driver who gave us a lift.”

Franco nodded at them, but even in the gloom she could see he looked drawn and sick.

“I count six down. That’s all of them,” Jet said.

“For now.”

Jet took Matt’s good hand and led him toward the monk. “Good point. We need to get out of here. It’ll be just a matter of time until reinforcements arrive.” She looked at Franco. “Can you turn the lights back on?”

“Of course.”

Sixty seconds later Franco had flipped the breaker, and the building was flooded with light. Jet scooped up the pistols and handed one to Matt, and then retrieved a spare magazine from Jaime’s trousers along with a slug of cash big enough to carpet a home.

“Let’s find Hannah and make ourselves scarce,” Matt said. He turned to Franco. “You should get the other monks out of here. They’re not safe.”

“I’ll show them to the tunnel once you’ve had time to escape. How long do you think we have?” Franco asked.

“Can you turn off the power to the cable car? If so, it would take them at least half an hour to climb up here,” Matt said.

“I’ll go shut it down,” Franco said. “And I’ll call the police on our landline. For this, they will probably bother responding.”

Matt held his stare. “Thank you for everything Franco. I hope Armando is okay.”

Franco looked away, his face grim. “It’s out of my hands. But I do too.”

Chapter 46

Fernanda debated taking the tram up and joining the fray at the monastery, but her iron discipline forced her to stay put. There was only one way out, and she’d pick the woman off when she eventually emerged from the underbrush at the bottom of the hill. Assuming she had survived the fall, which Fernanda felt was a good bet given the distance from the car to the ground.

She settled in for a wait, reminding herself that nothing would be served by her getting involved in a firefight. If six cartel killers couldn’t handle themselves well enough to prevail, that wasn’t her problem – her only concern was the woman, who was somewhere on the side of the mountain, hopefully wounded and in agony. The thought of her gasping out her dying breaths, hit by some of Fernanda’s rounds, made her smile, even if her instinct was that the woman wouldn’t go down that easily.

Five minutes later, sirens wailed from down the road. Cursing, Fernanda stashed the rifle under some refuse and sprinted down the alley that paralleled the main road. When she arrived at an abandoned two-story home on the very edge of visibility from the cable car station, she forced the plywood blocking the entrance aside and mounted the crumbling stairs. From the upper floor vantage point she could see the entire lower platform and the plants around it. She sat well back of the gaping window opening and watched the area with the binoculars.

A part of her wanted to retrieve the rifle and try a long shot as soon as the woman showed herself, but she was now past the weapon’s accuracy limit, making the odds of a kill slim. And if the police searched the surrounding buildings and she was discovered, right now she had no weapons and would be allowed to go without question, whereas with a rifle… She looked up just in time to see a dozen emergency vehicles roaring up the hill, followed by two pickup trucks spilling over with heavily armed soldiers.

Anyone else would have been long gone, but she had a personal stake in seeing the ordeal through. If the woman died on the mountain, once the police finished their investigation there would be a body bag to prove it. If she was somehow still alive, she’d emerge from the bottom of the trail…and Fernanda would be right behind her.

There would be ample opportunity to settle the score once they were well away from the police. That the woman would have assumed she’d gotten away clean would only make the moment she realized her fatal error that much sweeter. Fernanda imagined her face only inches from the woman’s as the life seeped out of her eyes, and she smiled. Maybe she’d kill the little girl first, just to heighten the woman’s agony. After all, she’d robbed Fernanda of Igor – it was the least she could do to return the favor, erasing the woman’s hopes and dreams before ending her miserable existence in the most painful manner possible.

~ ~ ~

Matt opened the door with the key Franco had given him and left it in the lock. He moved into the room, trailed by Jet, and reached up to the book that opened the bookcase and pulled it forward. When he heard the click of the latch giving, he called out, “Hannah? Step away from the door. I’m coming in.”

He put his shoulder into pushing the bookcase open, and Jet gasped when she saw Hannah sitting on the cold stone passageway floor, the flashlight almost dead, silent tears rolling down her face. Hannah leapt up when she saw her mother and flew to her with a soft cry. Jet knelt and hugged her, tears of her own streaming down her cheeks at the sight of her beautiful daughter, alive and well, but put through so much.

After a minute of hugging her close, Jet held her at arm’s length and brushed her untamed hair out of her eyes. “It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay now. Momma’s here.”

Hannah closed her eyes and savored the moment before whispering, “Momma.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. I’m here, and you’re safe.”

Matt cleared his throat. “For now. Might be a good idea to move before the flashlight completely gives up the ghost.”

Jet glanced at the little light on the ground where Hannah had dropped it. “You got it. Lead the way.”

Matt pushed the bookcase back into place and the lock clicked shut. He hoisted the two bags, leaving the survival kit where it lay. “Won’t be needing that anymore,” he said, and scooped up the flashlight.

The passage narrowed after a hundred meters, the ceiling closing in to the point where Matt had to stoop to avoid hitting his head. After a lengthy trek, they came to a rusting iron grid surrounded by tall grass and vines, the metal so corroded it was all they could do to work the bolt free. The hinges were frozen shut, and it took both Matt and Jet’s best effort to push the grid open, snapping the hinges off in the process. The heavy grate tumbled down the slope and came to rest near the bank of a small river.

Jet lowered herself to the ground first, and then Matt handed Hannah down, dropping the bags after her and squirming out of the opening himself. Once they were free of the tunnel, they took careful steps the remainder of the way to the river, the gravel river bank crunching underfoot. Matt paused and glanced back up at the monastery far above them, the mountainside a sheer cliff stretching into the night sky.

Jet called to him in a loud whisper from the water. “There are a bunch of boats downstream. Wooden skiffs.”

He took a final look at the monastery and made his way to where Jet stood, her arm around Hannah, pointing down the riverbank at where a half-dozen small craft were beached. He leaned his head into her and gave her a deep kiss, and then nuzzled the side of her face, his lips grazing her skin.

“I missed you,” he said quietly.

“Me too.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again, and then gazed downstream at the boats, their hulls glowing in the moonlight. “Nice night for a boat ride.”

Chapter 47

Frontino, Colombia

Mosises scowled as he read the sheaf of documents before him. After scrutinizing for the tenth time the crime scene photograph of his beloved son, the abominations of his punctured eye and throat captured in high-definition detail by the camera, he sat back, his expression ugly.

“You say the woman who did this never returned to the monastery entrance?” he demanded, his voice thick.

Fernanda nodded. “Correct. I waited a full day and night. It looks like they escaped somehow.” She gestured at the report. “It’s all in there. The monks claim that they knew nothing about what happened. The working theory was that the killings were some sort of drug-related double cross. One faction luring another into a remote location and executing them.”

“You’re sure that she didn’t somehow sneak past the police?”

“Impossible. They had the entire area sealed off, soldiers everywhere, spotlights, the whole works. And I watched as a team of climbers searched the area around the tramway. They found nothing.”

Mosises’ eyes narrowed as he read the final words of the report again. “Somebody must know something. Three people can’t just disappear into thin air.” His face changed as an idea occurred to him. “Is it possible that they’re still somewhere in the monastery?”

She shook her head. “I doubt it. The report describes the police doing a room-by-room search, looking for anything that would offer a clue to why six men were killed.”

Mosises held up a hand. “I convinced the authorities to allow our attorney to have access to the lone survivor. His ears are a mess and he’s in extreme pain, but he managed to tell our man that he was attacked by a woman. So there’s your explanation as to why she didn’t come out of the brush. She made it all the way up to the monastery after jumping out of the cable car.” He stopped, staring off into space. “Which is astounding.”

Fernanda had to admit it was. “She’s obviously got incredible skills.”

Mosises grunted. “Yes, well, that won’t help her. I want her head. Actually, I want all three of their heads.”

“I do too.”

“You’ll handle it?” Mosises asked softly, glaring at the cigar smoldering in the clay ashtray as though it had bitten him.

“Yes. I’ll need some logistical support, but I will. She won’t get away.”

He fixed her with a penetrating stare. “She did this time.”

“With all due respect, Jaime told me to stay put at the base of the mountain while he went up. That wasn’t my choice. He could be quite…forceful.”

Mosises’ attention seemed to drift, and he lowered his gaze. Fernanda could barely hear him when he spoke. “Yes, even as a little boy he had a stubborn streak. I…I loved him more than life itself.” He wiped his eyes with a shaking hand and then stared at her with haunted eyes. “I want her, no matter what it takes.”

Fernanda stood. “I’ll hunt her down and kill her in the most painful manner imaginable. You have my word. I wanted to tell you that personally.” She eyed her watch. “I need to get back to Santuario. Every hour that goes by, the trail grows colder. Can you have your helicopter fly me back?”

“Yes. Tell my man on the way out whatever else you need, and I’ll see to it. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

She sighed her frustration into the breeze. “Jaime was an incredible man,” she said, hinting at something more than the truth. The old man had no idea what had transpired over the days they were together, and she needed him firmly on her side. If he believed that she and Jaime had shared more than dinner, that could work to her benefit. She suspected she would need far more of his cooperation than he thought it would take, and it wouldn’t hurt for him to think there was a deeper connection between Jaime and herself than they’d enjoyed – certainly not for want of his trying.

“Yes. Yes, he was.” Mosises cleared his throat. “Find her. Kill her. Scorch the earth.”

“That’s my plan.”

Mosises watched Fernanda head over to the French doors and enter the house. When she was out of earshot, he lifted a tiny micro-cell phone to his ear. When he spoke it was with quiet deliberation. “I want you to take a personal interest in this matter. Do not disappoint me. I’ll have the report scanned and in your hand within the hour.”

Mosises’ assistant came out on the veranda as he was finishing the call. He studied the old drug lord without expression, and then spoke in a low voice. “I thought you were having the woman deal with this?”

Mosises flipped the phone onto the table. “She failed once, and now my son is dead. Think of it as insurance.”

Awareness dawned on the assistant’s face. “Of course. And the woman? She gave me a list of her requirements.”

“Give her what she needs, and let’s see if she can perform. If she can, then we’ll cross that bridge once she’s avenged Jaime.”

“And if she can’t?”

Mosises watched his prize mare canter around the clearing, unfettered by reins, savoring unimaginable freedom as she enjoyed what was left of the blustery day.

“Then she will pay the price for disappointing me.”

The assistant nodded and returned to the house. Helicopter blades thumped from the front of the estate, increasing in tempo as the aircraft lifted into the sky. Mosises shielded his eyes and followed the helicopter’s flight until it shrank into a tiny speck and disappeared behind the jungle hills.

<<<<>>>> 

Thanks for reading
JET VIII ~ Survival
. I hope you enjoyed it.

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You’ve just read the eight full-length book in the JET series. The other books in the series are
JET
;
JET II ~ Betrayal
;
JET III ~ Vengeance
;
JET IV ~ Reckoning
;
JET V ~ Legacy
;
JET VI ~ Justice
;
JET VII ~ Sanctuary
, and
JET ~ Ops Files
(prequel)
. I hope you enjoy them all.