Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (17 page)

Before he could open his mouth to warn the pilots, the lid of the box opened partially and 13's face appeared.
 
Chad's eyes went wide, but he said nothing.
 
Her blue eyes locked on his and she raised one gloved finger to her lips.
 
Sssh
.

Questions exploded in Chad's mind.
 
What's she doing here and why is she hiding?
 
How the hell did she get on board the helicopter?
 
How did they not know she's in that crate?
     

He stayed quiet and gave a slight nod.
 
He was relieved to have someone with him he knew and trusted.

13 pointed at her eyes and pointed toward the front of the plane, then shrugged.
 
Chad held up two fingers, pointed at his own eyes and shook his head to let her know the pilots hadn't seen her.
 
She nodded and disappeared back inside the crate.

Chad sat back in his seat and stared straight ahead, watching the pilots at the front of the aircraft.
 
Neither one of them bothered to turn or look.
 
They were focused on the airspace straight ahead, oblivious to what transpired in the cargo area.

Chad smiled.
 
13 had stowed away to be with him.
 
While he hadn't been exactly excited about the prospect of living by himself in the wilderness—in winter—anything was better than being trapped like a lab rat down in the belly of that enormous government complex in Denver.
 
If she'd had a change of heart and decided to come with him, maybe the frozen north wouldn't be so cold after all…
 

Chad glanced back toward the crate and watched in surprise as the lid open wide enough for 13 to slither over the side.
 
She crouched in the aisle next to him.
 
If one pilot so much as turned his head sideways he'd see her.
 
She paused only long enough to signal him for quiet again, then moved forward to the bulkhead just aft of the cockpit.
 
Safely out of sight of the pilots, she smiled and motioned for him to hold on to his seat.

Oh good, I'd almost forgot what it was like to crash…
Chad tightened his chest harness and gripped both armrests with white knuckles.
 
13 was not a girl to give false warnings.
 
When she said to hold on, Chad figured it was in his best interest to do so.

She stepped around the bulkhead and into the cockpit.
 
Chad heard jumbled screams over his headset.
 
The helicopter bucked and weaved.
 
He forced his eyes to stay open as his stomach heaved.
 
13's feet momentarily came off the floor, but whatever she was doing was over almost as soon as it started.
 

When she turned, he saw a bright red smear on the inside of the windshield and the pilot on the right had slumped over in his seat.
 
To his horror, Chad watched as 13 unbuckled the pilot on the left and pulled his limp body onto the floor before taking his seat.
 
She reached up and wiped away a smear of blood from the inside of the cockpit window and took control of the helicopter.

Chad opened his mouth to protest, but felt his stomach attempt to exit between his teeth as the helicopter dropped like a rock.
 
He closed his eyes and pulled himself tight into the seat throwing his head back against the head rest.
 
The engines roared in protest and the wind howled outside.
 
Chad's imagined the helicopter plummeting straight into the snow-covered trees of the Rocky Mountains below.

It didn't last long, but Chad figured they must have lost at least a thousand feet in altitude before the Chinook leveled off.
 
13 pulled and twisted the helicopter into a punishing maneuver that made Chad feel like he water was circling a drain.
 
Chad opened his eyes and instantly wished he hadn't.
 
The gyrations of the helicopter swerving back and forth, up and down, caused the limp body of the pilot to hover off the deck for a few seconds at a time, bouncing into cabinets and bulkheads as it traveled slowly closer to him.
 
Bits of gear and packing material flung free from 13's crate, now slick with blood, sloshed around at Chad's feet.

At last, her faint accent broke over the headset: "Are you okay?"

Chad swallowed his breakfast for a second time and nodded.
 
The helicopter leveled out, and when he looked to the cockpit, she had turned her head to glance at him down the aisle.
 
"I asked, are you okay?"

Chad held up his right thumb and flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he doubted it.
 
"Just don't do that again, okay?"
 
He looked down as the pilot's body twitched and moved in time with the helicopter's vibrations.
 
A red smear coated the metal floor plates, leaving a trail back to 13.
 

"Did you have to kill them?" he whispered.

13 didn't look back, as she scanned the horizon around the helicopter. "They were Reginald's men.
 
I had no choice."

Chad shook his head.
 
"That's impossible, Admiral Bennet said—"

"The men Admiral Bennet hand-picked are dead.
 
These two," 13 said with a flick of her wrist, "killed them and took their uniforms.
 
I found the bodies myself before I snuck into the cargo."

"Aren't they going to be a little pissed you slipped out of that base?" asked Chad.

13 laughed, the sound scratchy over the intercom, but a relief to his ears.
 
"I'd say they'd be a lot more pissed if they found out I kidnapped you."

"So, now where are we going?"

"Not to the place they wanted to take you," she said indicating the dead pilots.
 
"Until I know for sure that the base in Alaska is safe, I'm not taking you there, either."

Chad drummed his fingers on the armrests.
 
He hated being in the dark.
 

13 sensed his frustration.
 
She turned and looked over her shoulder at him again.
 
"I don't know where were going, if it makes you feel any better."
 
She turned her attention back to the controls.
 
"They know exactly where we are at all times because of the transponder in this thing.
 
First thing I've got to do is switch it off.
 
Then I'll drop you and your supplies off before ditching the helicopter somewhere else."

"Let me guess," began Chad, "you don't know where that will be, either?"

13 didn't answer, just shook her helmeted head.
 

Chad rolled his eyes.
 
Of course you don't.

C
HAPTER
17

Denver, Colorado.

Emergency Reserve National Operations Center.

W
HAT
DO
YOU
MEAN
you don't know where they are?" growled Cooper.
 
"Every one of our helicopters is tracked by—"

Admiral Bennet held up a hand.
 
"I'm just as angry as you are about this, son.
 
And yes, I know about the transponders.
 
We've already thought of that.
 
His bird vanished an hour after it left."

"Vanished?
 
Can't we pick it up on radar?" asked Charlie.
 

"Unfortunately, no."
 
Bennet's face soured.
 
"It's my fault.
 
I insisted they take one of the Chinooks we have—they arrived with the other survivors from Spokane."

"A Chinook?
 
Sir—"

"Yeah, it's a big bird, but I managed to pull some strings and get some pilots from the 160th SOAR to fly one of their MH-47s.
 
They'll avoid civilian radar."

"Jesus
Christ
," muttered Cooper.
 
He turned from the table in disgust, hoping he could hide his relief.
 
He had to admit, 13 knew her shit.
 
Taking the transponder out of commission on an MH-47 Chinook—while still flying—was quite a feat.
 
Cooper put his hands on his hips before he turned back to face Bennet.

"It's her, isn't it?" asked Charlie.
 

"Son of a
bitch
…" muttered Jax.
 
"She jacked Huntley's ride."

Bennet crossed his arms.
 
"The truth of it is we don't know when she left.
 
She turned up missing about the same time the Chinook vanished.
 
We found the bodies of the pilots—good men I hand-selected for this mission—in the hangar a few moments ago."
 
Bennet slammed a fist down on the table, spilling Cooper's coffee.
 
"I knew we shouldn't have trusted that bitch!"

"I should've killed her when I had the chance…" muttered Cooper.

"No," Bennet said through a sigh.
 
"I'm glad you did what you did, son," Bennet said.
 
"You got the information we needed to bust open this Council.
 
This is my fault.
 
I'm the one that gave the go-ahead."

"So that's it?
 
She got away?
 
She might have kidnapped the Source, killed a couple of pilots, taken a helicopter, and slipped off into the night?
 
And there's nothing we can do about it?" asked Cooper.

The grim set to Bennet's face was his answer.
 
"We train those SOAR pilots to be the best.
 
Without the GPS lock in the transponder, no civilian radar will be able to pick it up, or even decipher what they're seeing.
 
Probably scare the hell out of anyone on the ground.
 
We'll be able to track it through FAA anomaly reports—but it may take days or weeks, if they're still up and running.
 
By then who knows where the hell she'll be."
 
Admiral Bennet sighed.

So far so good.
 
Guilt twisted in Cooper's stomach.
 
He didn't want to deceive the Admiral—the man who'd done so much for him and his men—but he and 13 had seen no other way.
 
She had to get out of this base.
 
She had to get back into Reginald's good graces.
 
The only way either one of them could figure out how to do that was to make it look like she had escaped.
 
She even swiped some of Dr. Boatner's research on her way to the hangar.
 
She'd promised him she'd get Huntley to a safe location.

The look in her eyes convinced him she was telling the truth.
 
Whatever else she was, 13 cared for Huntley like family.
 
Cooper didn't understand why and didn't care.
 
She wouldn't hurt him.

He stared at the briefing documents on the table.
 
He'd almost killed her in the prison cell.
 
They both knew it.
 
Cooper remembered the look in her eyes—she hated Reginald as much as he did.
 
He trusted her.

Her plan was as outrageous as it was genius.
 
He had to give her that.
 
13 appeared to be holding up her end of the bargain.
 
Now it was his turn.

He flipped open the briefing folder.
 
"Doesn't seem like there's much we can do about the Source, so where's Reginald?
 
I need to blow something up, sir."

Bennet seemed grateful for the change of subject.
 
He folded his arms across his chest again.
 
"We traced that little shit back to Great Britain.
 
He's holed up somewhere in Scotland after all, we think.
 
Intel's still working to confirm."

"Scotland, huh?
 
Never been there…" observed Jax as he perused the briefing document.

"The Tillcott family owns several castles along the western coast.
 
He could be at any of those or none of them.
 
We're still trying to figure that out.
 
Once we have a target for you, you'll be wheels up.
 
In the meantime, I suggest you get as much sack time as you can."

Cooper nodded and coughed.
 
"That might be a good idea, sir."

The Admiral's gaze moved quickly over each SEAL in turn.
 
"How are the vaccines treating you?"

Cooper nodded.
 
"Fair enough, sir.
 
It's keeping me from dying."