Rising Hope by Edie James
45
“All right,boys and girls, we’re heading in,” Jack announced over the commlink as he swung the machine around to face the white and orange Coast Guard helicopter in preparation for landing.
Sarah grabbed the armrests and squeezed her eyes shut. Takeoffs were bad, but landings were worse. Watching the ground rise up to meet them topped her list of terrifying events.
“Something’s wrong.” Rollo’s flat, dead tone made her overworked heart leap in her chest.
Her eyes flew open. The men were all craning to see out the windows. She was on the far side of the aircraft, in the seat behind the co-pilot’s chair.
Somehow, she zeroed right in on Enzo, slumped in the cargo area of the helicopter. Half out the door, Halliburton sat next to him, calmly swinging his legs, a gun jammed into Enzo’s side. She cried out.
Then she saw the bodies behind him, jammed in the back of the cargo bay: Paulson, clearly dead, lying atop a pair of trouser-clad legs. It had to be the agent who’d accompanied the commander to escort Enzo. The sick feeling worsened.
“Update the others,” Jack said.
“Roger that,” Austin said and activated the link to the team back in Hope Landing. “Active hostage situation,” he announced over the commlink. “Paulson and the other agent are incapacitated. Probably DOA. Enzo is incapacitated as well. Condition unknown. Halliburton has a weapon on him.”
Sarah could feel the team’s shock over the silent airwaves.
Star responded from base. “We hear you. Standing by.”
Rollo put a hand on the weapon holstered at his side. His thousand-mile-stare promised swift retribution. In the next few minutes, Halliburton would be in handcuffs. Or dead.
She couldn’t take her eyes off Enzo, desperately hoping to see a sign of life.
“He’s not dead,” Halliburton announced before they even exited the helicopter. “I just tased him is all. Hand over the bags, or that’ll change quickly.”
Her mind—and heart—on fire, Sarah scrambled out of her seat, but Rollo stopped her from throwing herself out of the aircraft. “We need to be smart about this,” he cautioned quietly.
She marveled at his calm. She knew how much he loved his brother. The very fact that he could focus amazed her. Heartened her, too. She was surrounded by professionals, calm, confident men who’d do whatever necessary to take Halliburton down.
She fisted her hands, squeezing hard. “I know. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Rollo winked at her. The tenderness in the tough man’s eyes made her want to cry. “I’m counting on it.” He wrapped a huge hand around her fist. “We got this. Never doubt it. Just stay behind us, and follow our lead.”
Okay then. Okay.
It took everything she had not to race across the tarmac to Enzo’s side, but she forced herself to maintain her composure, climbing smoothly out of the helicopter after the other three men exited. But once she saw Enzo’s slack form, the barrel of Halliburton’s gun digging into his ribs, she cracked.
“Take me,” she begged. “It’s my fault we escaped. I took down Panetta.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Halliburton called out. “But no, I’m gonna decline your generous offer. MacKenzie’s a pilot. You’re not.”
“Bring me a baggage cart,” he ordered them. “Your boy and I are heading out.”
He waved his wounded arm in the direction of the small terminal. His. Wounded. Arm.
“Miami.” Sarah breathed the word.
“Bingo.” Halliburton looked seriously pleased with himself. “Sarah and I did an undercover stint at a dinner theater. At the time, I thought it was a stupid assignment, but that theatrical makeup is fantastic. I knew fake blood would come in handy someday. But enough about me. Get that cart.”
Jack and Austin turned to face her and Rollo, a question clear on their faces. Comply, or not?
Rollo nodded. “Let’s give the man what he wants.”
Austin jogged toward the empty terminal a hundred yards away and grabbed a rusting chrome cart.
Halliburton gestured with his chin. “Send it over.”
Outsized arm muscles flexing, Austin shoved the cart toward him.
Halliburton stopped it with his foot. Eyes on the group, he tumbled Enzo onto the flat surface. Enzo landed on his side, facing them. His slack face and unearthly pallor made her ill.
She could feel the tension rising in the others, too. They were professionals, sure, but Rollo was Enzo’s flesh and blood. How much taunting could the man take before he acted?
Halliburton seemed oblivious to it all. He swung his attention to Jack. “You, pilot-guy, you brought my merchandise, right?”
Jack nodded sharply.
“Good. Take the dudes here and load the bags in that white SUV behind us. Walker, stay where I can see you.”
“Don’t you want to check the contents first?” Sarah spoke without thinking.
Halliburton pulled a face. “Why? Cross me and your boy dies. Unless you tell me differently, I better find the real stuff—all of it—when I open those bags.”
She watched Enzo out of the corner of her eye, willing him to wake up. If they got an opening. No. When they got an opening, Enzo could at least help himself.
But he remained dead to the world, his limbs slack, his head lolling sideways, eyes softly closed.
“Okay,” Rollo agreed.
Once he spoke, Jack and Austin dove into the helicopter, each retrieving several bags. Jack tossed his to Rollo and went back inside for the last two. “We can’t let him take Enzo offsite,” he told her quietly as he headed back in.
When he came back out with the last two bags, he passed close. “One of us’ll drop him, if we can get a clear shot. Get him to point his gun away from Enzo,” he murmured.
Her Glock dug into her side under her jacket. She couldn’t. What if she wasn’t fast enough? What if her actions caused Enzo’s death?
Or what if her inaction did?
They all knew Halliburton would kill him once he got far enough away to avoid capture.
Jack was right. It was now or never.
She eyed Enzo again, forcing her attention to linger over his slumped body. Did his eyelids flutter? Afraid to move, in case she drew Halliburton’s attention, she stared harder. It could have been a passing shadow, or a trick of the wind, ruffling Enzo’s hair.
No. His eyelids were definitely fluttering. She wrapped her hand around the pendant at her throat, fighting the urge to shout with joy.
She didn’t dare alert Halliburton. If the guy was telling the truth, Enzo had been tased. The effects could last minutes. Or hours. Forget assisting them, would Enzo even be able to move?
Mentally, she rehearsed her plan.She’d get one chance. One. Slim. Chance.