JET - Sanctuary (21 page)

The rear doors opened, and several of the gunmen moved to either side of the vehicle, their expressions tense, as though they were expecting an attack at any moment, which was more than partially true. Alejandro had been coordinating the defense of the compound and now had fifty of the Sotos’ most trusted soldiers on the grounds. Everyone knew that it was just a matter of time until full-scale war broke out in a battle to the death. There was too much at stake for the Verdugos to leave anything to chance, and there had already been reports of some of the Soto strongholds in the city being hit, although without much success; the Sotos employed the cream of the underworld and their numbers included a large retinue of ex-commandos and mercenaries – more than a match for the Verdugos’ street toughs.

Alejandro led the way through the house, which was furnished in priceless antiques. Oil paintings from a bygone era adorned the walls. They reached a set of French doors at the rear of the salon, and Alejandro pushed them open. On the lawn, two men were rolling metallic green paint onto the back of a Bell 206-B3 helicopter, having completed the front of the cabin in white. Hector walked over to the aircraft and inspected the job and, after a brief discussion, returned to where Jet and Alejandro were standing.

“They’ll be done in fifteen minutes and, allowing for some drying time, will apply the
Caribineros de Chile
lettering on the tail. By the time we’re done, it will be indistinguishable from a police helicopter,” he reported.

Alejandro edged to the side and had a subdued discussion with one of Hector’s associates. When he returned, his face was glum.

“We have a problem. The pilot won’t do it. We offered a king’s ransom, but he refused. He’s a straight shooter, old school, and has been with my father for twenty years. But he pointed out that if anything went wrong, flying the helicopter would be either life in prison or suicide.”

“Can’t say as I blame him,” Hector said. “Did you try a more persuasive approach? Maybe his family?”

Alejandro shook his head. “I can’t do that. My father would disown me. That’s not how you reward trusted friends.”

Hector spit on the lawn and lit another of his unending stream of cigarettes. “So now what do we do?”

Jet looked up at the sky. “It’ll be dark soon. Has anyone gotten word on the air traffic situation? Do you have someone at the airport you can get to?”

Alejandro placed a quick phone call and then shook his head. “Unfortunately that came up dry, too.”

Jet nodded. “Well, it just means that the bird will need to stay low and go in fast. It’s still possible to pull it off, but it will require more scrambling. You’ll need to have a car waiting and get your father clear, because without someone at the airports to run interference for you it will be just a matter of minutes before the landing area is swarming with police.”

Alejandro glanced at Hector and moved next to him. Jet walked over to the helicopter as they chatted, and noted that it was in good condition – it looked like a nineties variant, in nearly new shape, evidently no expense spared on maintenance. Crime clearly paid well indeed. When she returned, Alejandro was back on the phone and Hector had an ugly smile on his face.

“What?” Jet asked.

“You’re not the only one capable of innovative ideas, young lady. We might have a way to deal with the radar systems.” He told her what he had in mind.

“You think you can do that?”

Hector shrugged. “For enough money, you can accomplish almost anything.”

Alejandro hung up and nodded. “Another problem solved. It’s taken care of. But there’s still the issue of who’s going to fly the chopper. If we can’t resolve that, the rest of this is for nothing.”

Jet sighed. “Didn’t I mention that I’m certified to fly both fixed wing and helicopters?”

Alejandro shook his head. “No, it never came up.”

“It’s been years, but they say it’s like riding a bicycle. I’ll need an hour or two in the cockpit to familiarize myself with the layout.”

Hector dropped his cigarette butt on the grass and ground it out with his shoe, ignoring Alejandro’s frown of disapproval. “You’re going to fly that thing?”

Jet shrugged. “It’s not going to fly itself, is it?” She regarded Alejandro. “But it makes dealing with the airports all the more important, because I won’t be going as fast as someone who knows the area well.”

“I’m going with you,” Alejandro announced.

Jet shook her head. “No, you need to stay and coordinate everything. And…if things don’t go smoothly, you need to honor your commitment and get my daughter and husband back. Whatever it takes.”

Alejandro shook his head. “I’m going.”

Hector exhaled loudly. “Alejandro, much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. You can’t run interference
and
deal with any surprises in the air. And if this doesn’t work, you’ll need to take the helm of the organization in your father’s absence. That won’t be possible if you’re captured or worse. This is how your father would want it. If you don’t believe me, call him and talk to him yourself.”

Alejandro stalked off, phone pressed to his ear. Hector watched him leave and turned to Jet. “I, on the other hand, will be right next to you the entire time.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. Hope you can shoot better than you dress, because it may come down to that.”

“I can more than carry my end of the log.”

“Good. Bring a lot of ammo. And something with more punch than those 9mms. An AK if you can, with a boxcar of extra magazines.”

“You read my mind.”

“Can you get your hands on some night vision gear?”

“Should be able to.”

Jet glanced at the helicopter and then back at Hector, whose eyes were as flat and dead as a pool of oil. For all his annoying qualities, she had no doubt that he could more than handle a gun.

“Then we may just have a chance after all.”

~ ~ ~

The mountains northwest of San Felipe, Chile

Sweat ran down Matt’s face in spite of the chill in the concrete bunker where they were being held next to the main building of the abandoned military outpost. Hannah sat in the corner of the improvised cell – a cinderblock storage room with a guard standing watch outside. Matt was working on the handcuff that secured his good hand to a metal pipe, his skin torn raw from his efforts, but no closer to success than when they’d been dumped in the room two hours earlier. Hannah had stopped crying and had retreated into herself. A soldier stopped by once to give them water, but besides that, they’d been ignored. The little girl had been quiet, not even complaining about having to use the bathroom as Matt twisted his wrist in frustration inside the metal cuff.

The door opened and two soldiers stepped in. The taller of the pair moved to Matt and pulled him to his feet while the other watched, his hand on his sidearm. Matt considered crushing the closest man’s nose with his head and charging the other, but with his hand cuffed to the pipe, his odds of success were slim, and he didn’t want to invite reprisals that might involve Hannah.

He’d overheard the reports to the colonel running the operation when they’d been transported to the outpost: Jet had vanished in the cave-in – dead, with a crew digging in the rubble for her and Alejandro’s bodies. So now he was the little girl’s only hope in the world, and he couldn’t risk her safety with a foolish attempt destined for failure.

The soldiers unshackled him and led him to the main building, the shorter of the pair staying several prudent steps behind him should Matt try anything. Matt counted a dozen men near the vehicles and suspected that there were more on the periphery, which would make any attempt at a breakout suicide, even if by some miracle he could overcome his two escorts – not likely with a broken hand and no weapon.

The lead soldier opened the door to the main building and pushed him through. Matt found himself facing the colonel, Rodrigo, and a dark Chilean in jeans and a windbreaker. Next to him was a lean, tan man with a military haircut and a no-nonsense bearing – by far the most dangerous person in the room, Matt could instantly tell. The soldiers led Matt to a wooden chair and sat him down and then cuffed him to the arm.

“Well, well. I see you aren’t only a coward, but also a turncoat. Nice,” Matt said to Rodrigo. “Let me guess. You found an area with cell service up by the mine?”

“You’re a bright one, aren’t you? We’ll see how insulting you feel after we’re done with you,” Rodrigo sneered.

The colonel stepped forward and slapped Matt with a backhand. Matt licked blood off his lip and said nothing. He was in the enviable position of not knowing anything, so there was nothing he could tell his tormentors that would be useful to them.

The man with the buzz cut approached him and studied his face before sitting down across from him.

“What is the expression? It’s a fine kettle of fish you’ve gotten yourself into?” the man said in Russian-accented English.

Matt remained silent. What a Russian was doing in the Chilean mountains at a military outpost with a couple of gangsters and a high-ranking army officer was a mystery, but Matt’s instinct was to say as little as possible.

The Russian turned to the Chilean. “Bastian, do you have any questions for our friend before I get started?”

Bastian nodded. “Where were you and the woman supposed to meet if you got out of the mine alive?”

Matt blinked. Meet? What was that all about? Unless…

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Matt said.

“Come, come. We know the woman escaped. Neither her nor Alejandro’s bodies were found,” the colonel said. “And one of our patrols came across two soldiers who were assaulted by them in the next valley. So we know they stole a Jeep and their uniforms. Let’s not make this difficult. Where were you to meet if you were separated?”

Matt eyed the colonel. “We had no plan. How would I know that she would be trapped in a cave-in and escape? Although I have to say that’s wonderful news.”

“Yes, I understand the cave-in wasn’t predictable, but let’s try this another way. Where would you go if we let you free?”

That was an easy one, and Matt didn’t have to invent an answer. “I…I have absolutely no idea. Probably back to the hotel.”

Bastian cursed under his breath. “This is a waste of time. The hotel’s crawling with police. He’s not going to tell us anything. Or there’s nothing to tell.”

The Russian nodded. “Perhaps. But he knows a few things I’m interested in.”

Matt stared him down, but felt a quiver of unease.

When the Russian spoke again, his voice was a purr. “Who is your young lady friend? What’s her name and her background?”

“Her name? That’s what you want to know? Naomi. Naomi Dove. As to her background, how the hell would I know? I just hooked up with her a couple of weeks ago. She’s tripping around South America with her kid. She was lonely and I got lucky.” Matt looked around, hoping they were buying it. “Or unlucky, it looks like now. What’s all this about?”

Matt’s only hope was to deny everything and play dumb. His story was non-disprovable, and Hannah was too young to be of any use. He’d assume the role of a single man on the prowl who’d met a woman in need and decided that he’d get more out of the deal than he invested. Completely believable and logical.

The Russian wasn’t buying it. Not a word, Matt could see.

“She was involved in the gunfight at the hotel.”

“If you say so. I don’t know anything about that. I was in the room with the kid. She went out for a soda. Next thing I knew it was the Wild West, and then we were running for our lives.”

Rodrigo shook his head. “They were acting like husband and wife on the trail. He’s lying.”

“Look, she’s gorgeous and fun to hang out with. What do you want from me? I didn’t ask to get shot at in some mine in the middle of frigging nowhere, and I sure as hell have no idea why you’re so interested in some spacey chick I met in a bar.”

Half an hour later, the soldiers dragged Matt back to the storage room, blood soaking the front of his shirt, his face bruised and cut from blows. Leonid watched him go and walked to one of the windows. Bastian stood and moved next to him.

“What do you think?” Bastian asked.

“Not a single thing he said was true. Not one.”

“That was my impression. But how do we proceed, knowing that?”

Leonid glanced up at the sky, the afternoon’s bright light fading as high overcast drifted from the west and dusk approached. A woodpecker flitted from tree to tree, bursts of color marking its flight as its bright plumage flashed in the dying sun. He turned to Bastian.

“We know she’s alive and that we have her daughter. So we need her to know it, too. Think about it – what woman wouldn’t do anything to save her child? If we make this the worst-kept secret in the world, she’ll eventually hear about it, and then, trust me, she’ll come to us. The trick will be being ready when she does. As you’ve seen by now, she’s not an ordinary adversary.” He paused, as if considering a riddle, his expression pensive. “But with enough firepower, even the most lethal predator can be stopped. We just need to get her in our sights, and I’ll do the rest.”

~ ~ ~

Igor and Fernanda sat at a sidewalk café on the downtown pedestrian boulevard in Mendoza, sipping espresso and nibbling croissants as Fernanda spoke on her cell phone with their agent.

“We’re at a dead end,” she said. “We’ve questioned everyone at the casino and spoken with the gentleman in the police department you suggested, but there’s nothing on our target – she’s vanished as though she never existed. I’d suggest that you circulate her photograph to anyone you can think of in this region. Maybe we’ll get a hit. But right now there are no leads.”

“That’s disappointing. I’d hoped with you on the ground there…”

“We’re all disappointed, but that’s not going to get us any closer to finding her. Turn over some rocks. Put her face in front of every pimp, drug dealer, mugger and lowlife in South America. It’s all we can do, unless you’ve got a rabbit you can pull out of your magic hat.”