Wolfsbane (38 page)

“How’re you gonna get out?”

“We’ll get out.” He wasn’t sure how, but the biggest hurdle was finding her.

The Kid must’ve seen the shock that rolled through Canyon because he rolled his eyes and donned a helmet. “Climb in.”

In the cockpit, Canyon watched as the Kid powered up the craft. “How long have you been a pilot?”

“Long enough.”

“I didn’t know.”

He flipped a switch, then another. “There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me. All you do is throw me in water, smack my head, and laugh at me.”

“If you get me there, I’ll never laugh again.”

“Promises, promises.” The Kid shrugged as the rotors began to whine, then screech right into a full roar. “Besides, I might get booted from the team after this.”

With the copilot’s headset on, Canyon glanced at the Kid. “Then why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?”

Roark
. “I keep my promises.”

“Yeah, well, me, too. I mean, it’s about honor. Leaving her there? Major uncool.” The bird vibrated beneath them. “I can’t live with myself knowing we did that, especially to her.”

Canyon clamped a hand on the Kid’s shoulder. “Thank you, Marshall.”

Green lights glared off the Kid’s eyes—eyes that shone with appreciation of the recognition Canyon had just shown. “Don’t thank me yet.” A few
more switches. “We have to get off this base and not get shot down. Imagine Hamer’s going to hit the roof when he sees one of his birds taking off.”

“Then fly fast and low.”

“You got it.”

Phone pressed to his ear, Max waited as it rang. Legend, Aladdin, and Cowboy clustered around him with Squirt, who sat in a chair looking piqued. Expectation hung thick and heady. A dozen rings and still no answer. The fourth time. He shook his head to the guys and started to pull it away from his face.

“Hello?”

Tensed, Max clapped the phone to his ear again. “Hello?”

“Yes?”

At the feminine voice, he shifted away from the guys and looked down at the desk. “Who is this?”

“You call a secure line and ask that?” Age and grace coated the voice—but also … stress.

“Authenticate,” Max demanded.

“I … I can’t. I’m … I’m the better half.”

He hung up. Looked at the guys. “Something’s wrong.”

“What just happened?” Legend asked.

“It wasn’t the Old Man. A woman answered. She called herself the better half.”

“His wife?” Cowboy angled forward. “The Old Man’s wife answered?”

“What does that mean?” Legend scowled. “What’s she doing answering
that
phone?”

“If that is his wife,” Aladdin said, “then she would know that phone is off-limits.”

Legend’s brows rose into his forehead. “Which means she—”

“Wanted to talk to me.” Max dialed again.

The line rang.

“Oh, thank God.” She sniffled into the phone. “When you hung up—”

“I need the Old Man.”

“Who are you?”

They were playing a deadly game, but if something happened to Lambert … “Nightshade Alpha. I need to speak to the Old Man.”

“Nightshade,” she said, her voice trembling. “You know where the last mission was, correct?”

Max hesitated. They were
on
the last mission—Venezuela. “Yes, ma’am. Could you please put the Old Man on the line?”

“Where the last mission was—that’s where you’ll find him. That’s all I know.”

Confusion riddled Max’s brain. “Ma’am?”

A shrieking siren pierced his eardrums. Max looked around and pointed to the window as lights swirled through the night. Aladdin checked the window, then darted out of the room just as vibrations trembled through the room, drowning out what the woman said.

“Ma’am,” he shouted into the phone. “Repeat—where is the Old Man?”

“Bring him home, Nightshade.” Another sob. “Please.” The connection severed.

“What’d she say?”

“That the Old Man was where the last mission was?”

“What mission?
Ours?”
Legend’s deep voice growled.

Max cursed. God forgive him, but he did. Hands on the desk, he clenched his eyes.

“Frogman, what’s up?” Cowboy asked.

Sirens wailed through the night—something was wrong on the base. The air raid howling told Max this mission, which had gone horribly wrong since they’d crossed into Venezuelan airspace, had tanked. And now, they didn’t even have their resources.

“The Old Man’s gone rogue.”

Aladdin burst back into the room, eyes wide. “You’d better come.”

Max paused. Could anything else really go wrong?

“The Kid and Midas are under arrest.”

Bruzon’s Estate, Venezuela 15 May

“Get away from me, you piece of dirt!”

Taunting laughter spiraled through the humid air as Bruzon strolled across the courtyard.

Dani tugged on the wrist restraints, trying to free herself from the post. A hitching post. An old-fashioned hitching post and they’d tied her to it.

“Danielle, my pet.” Bruzon’s medals clanked as he laughed and sauntered toward her. “Why are you so violent, so filled with fire?” More laughter.

Behind him trailed a lithe woman who closed the ten-foot wood fence that separated them from the rest of his compound. He’d brought Dani to his home. And that terrified her. The facility was sterile, reeked of antiseptic. Here, the separation between the two seemed … well, she wasn’t sure what, but it just felt more … personal here.

“I’m no pet of yours,” she said in a low voice, jerking against the post. The shackle cut into her wrist but she pulled harder. Steel bit into her flesh. That paled to the way this monster bit into her soul.

“Get away from me.” She whirled around, using the anchor of the post that chained her as a counterbalance and thrust a roundhouse kick at his chest.

He drew back, surprised, but then guffawed.

A guard rushed her and slammed his rifle into her face.

Her head whipped back. Momentum carried her into the dirt.

“You are a prize!” Bruzon grabbed the lithe woman behind him and pulled her in front of himself. “You see Catalina? She was once almost as wild as you, Danielle.” He clutched the woman’s face tight, puckering her lips and cheeks. “Now look at her. Beautiful, elegant”—his hand traced down her side and hips—“tame. Obedient.” Bruzon tossed her aside, grabbed Dani by the hair.

Fire prickled at every root on her scalp as he hauled her to her feet. Swallowing the scream, she clamped a chained hand over his to stem the pain.

“You are mine, Danielle.” His breath reeked of spices and liquor. “And I will break you, too. If it takes me
years.”

Holding on to his hand, she stared right into his muddy eyes—and drove her knee into his groin.

He doubled over and moaned.

She whipped back, away. The chains jerked her arms taut, forbidding escape. Again she thrashed against her bonds, frantic, desperate to get free.

To her surprise … he laughed. The sickening sound growing as he slowly rose to his full height. “Why are you not this wild in bed, Danielle?”

The fight drained out of her. No. That’s what he wanted—to capture her mind, smother her soul. “Forget it. You can’t take anything from me again.” A bald-faced lie but it felt good saying it. She shook her head, backed up till her arms were outstretched.

“Navas tells me you have taken a lover.”

Canyon. He knew about Canyon? How was that possible?

He snickered. “But I removed him from the equation.”

A swarm of heat swirled through her torso. What did he mean, removed Canyon from the equation?

Another snicker. He raised his arms. “Now, you belong only to me.”

Frantic, she snapped her chained hands backward. One broke free. Stunning her. And Bruzon. Guards poured out of the shadows. Thrust her to the ground. Dani let herself laugh. If they were already failing, if they could not keep her bound … she might have hope after all.

Pinned beneath several of them, she felt the shackle reattach, then another clamped onto her arm. When the men moved aside, Dani pulled herself onto her knees and slumped against the post. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

“You stole something from me.”

The blueprints.

“And they never believed you.” He chuckled. “But you still violated my trust.”

“Trust?” she scoffed.

“And that must be repaid. The world must know that nobody can steal from me and get away with it.” The playfulness leeched out of him. He snapped his fingers. “Please, Senator, come and explain things”—a man stepped from beneath a shade tree—“to your daughter.”

Dani froze as her father stepped into the light. “Dad!”

Malice painted a wicked mural over his face.

“Dad?” Her pulse puttered to a stop as he stood there, unmoving. “Help me! Make him let me go. Tell him the U.S. will make sure he’s dead.”

Bruzon leaned toward her father and offered him a cigar. “What do you think, Mike? Should we help her?”

To her shock, her father accepted the cigar, lit it, then jeered. “She’s just like her mother.” Her father turned and stalked out of sight.

Shock pinned her to the hard earth. Just like her mother? What did that mean? “Dad!” She rushed forward, only to have her arms ripped backward. “Don’t leave me!” The rain and thunder drowned her screams. “Help me, Daddy!” She stilled, the chains clinking as she lowered her hands. And in that moment she knew …

I’m alone
.

DAY SEVEN

N
ow … where …? Oh yes. The strike. The very word terrified our warriors. We had seen such things close by. Villages burned. Bodies burned. Ground burned
.

“No, no air strike,” Bayani said again to the big Spaniard
.

“Listen.” He grabbed Bayani’s shirt. “We can take the people up into the mountain. Get them to safety, but the strike—”

Bayani shoved the man back. “We both know they wouldn’t be clear of the site in time.”

“It’s our only choice.”

“I said no.”

Bayani and the others made choice to fight. The big dark man told our warriors to run and get more weapons. Bayani, who still looked confused or upset, told the women and children to get supplies. So we hurry, hurry. We all run here and there to get ready. The children and women and I prepared to climb into the hills. While we packed up, I heard noise. Like fights. And more noise like big thunder
.

Through the reeds, I saw Bayani and his outsiders searching the skies. A feeling came to my stomach that made me feel sick. As I stepped outside, I saw Bayani’s face go very angry. Red angry. He shouted at his outsiders. They started running. I knew something very bad wrong. I ran to find Chesa. She and I saw Bayani coming very fast toward us. He was screaming, shouting. But we must get …

I cannot go on. I cannot
.

    “Please, Mrs. Mercado.” Matt leaned over the bed and mopped the silky skin with a cool cloth. “I know it’s tiring, but please finish.”

She tried to swallow but gasped. Tears streaked down her face as
she shook her head. “No, it hurt too much.” A wail ripped through her, awakening the child.