“I’ve got them, Dan,” Nick shouted. “I’m using our satellite image. They’re on a dirt road east of town, heading due south.”
“I’m going up to get a better view,” Dan said.
Nick heard the helicopter’s rotors whirl softer as the chopper lifted away from the ground diminishing the echoes. The truck was in a clearing but would get to the tree line within the next mile or two.
Julie seemed frightened, but she was no amateur hostage. She’d been an FBI agent wife for fifteen years and knew to search for ways out. She wasn’t going to go easily. It was probably why they threw her in the bed. The driver was the only one visible in the cab.
“Got ’em,” Dan said.
Nick felt a rush of anxiety. He was grateful to see his family still alive, but knew these gunmen would not give up and he forced himself to stay focused.
“Listen, Dan,” Nick said. “These are drug-running experts. They’ve been chased by choppers before. They know where to shoot. Keep your tail away from them.”
“Roger that,” Dan said.
By the reaction of the gunman in the back of the truck, the helicopter must’ve come into their view. The gunman in the bed of the truck pulled Julie into a choke hold and held the muzzle of the gun to her head. A threat to back off.
“Dan, who’s with you?” Nick asked.
“Parker and Jenson.”
“Have them put on their headsets.”
“You got it.”
Nick thought it through. Both men were adroit sharpshooters. Julie was alive because the gunmen needed her for protection, but the sun was setting fast. Once they had the cover of darkness they’d ditch the truck and go it on foot. In that terrain, they had a solid chance of escaping. He needed to give them hope. He needed them in that truck as long as possible.
“Okay, Dan, get out of there,” Nick said. “Move west. Stay low to the ground, just over the treetops.”
The helicopter’s engine whined again, changing speed and direction.
“We can’t afford to lose them, Nick,” Dan said. “It’s pretty dark up here.”
“I know,” Nick said. “When you’re out of viewing distance I want you to double back, go even further south. The road they’re taking makes a sharp turn to the east into the trees. I’ll guide you there.”
“Back it up more,” Nick said to Stevie. They watched the helicopter move away from the truck. “Stay with the chopper.”
Stevie’s fingers glided over the keypad with the agility of a stenographer.
Nick pointed to the screen. “There,” he said. “Mark that spot.”
A red X popped onto the screen right next to the road, ahead of the speeding truck.
“Dan,” Nick said. “You’re too far east. Head northwest from your location.”
“What are we doing?” Dan asked.
“You’re going to drop off Jenson and Parker on that dirt road ahead of the truck. Have them roll a spike strip on the path. Then have them ready to make a nest up in the trees ten yards apart. When the truck hits those spikes, I want Parker to take a shot at the gunman in the truck bed. Then have Jenson take out the driver.”
There was a pause on the line while Nick and Stevie watched the helicopter follow a northwestern flight path.
“Nick,” Dan said. “That’s pretty risky for the hostages.”
Nick understood the behavior of terrorists; once those gunmen realized the hostages were simply cargo-they were dead. They could see the truck in the distance, flying over potholes, a trail of leaves floating in its wake. Nick’s chest tightened. “Dan, they killed Jennifer Steele. I trust Greg to take the shot.”
There was another long pause, until Greg Parker’s voice came over the phone. “I’ll get him, Nick.”
Of course it wasn’t the gunman Nick was worried about taking a bullet and Parker knew that. The helicopter was following the dirt path now, low to the ground, approaching the red X.
“Slow down, Dan,” Nick said. A moment later, he announced, “Right there. Drop them off right there.”
The chopper hovered for a moment while the two men scrambled out and rolled a spike strip across the narrow dirt path. The helicopter’s nose came down and moved along the road directly at the truck which was coming around a corner a hundred yards away.
Nick knew what the pilot was doing; he was attempting to distract the driver so he wouldn’t spot the snipers waiting for them.
“Don’t get cute, Dan,” Nick ordered. “You’ve got their attention, now get up high and out of range.”
A pool of sweat gathered around Nick’s ear where the phone had been fastened. He switched ears and wiped the damp one with his shoulder.
Stevie and Nick watched the truck take the final turn too fast. They watched it almost tip over, coming up on two wheels before recovering and slamming back down on all four. The sweat continued to drip down the side of Nick’s face as the vehicle approached the spike strip lying across the road.
Stevie put his hand on his forehead as if waiting for a head-on collision between two passenger trains.
“Lord, be with them,” Nick murmured, the tightness in his chest growing stronger.
As the driver spotted the spike strip, he did what every criminal has ever done in that situation. He slammed on the accelerator. Something about the brain which creates the belief that a vehicle going fast enough can fly over the spikes with impunity.
Nick’s lunch worked its way up his esophagus as the truck plowed over the spikes. A puff of dust emerged as the wheels scraped against the ground. The truck hobbled forward, leaning right and struggling ahead with a maniacal demand from the driver.
Watching from the satellite gave the images a creepy feel. The absence of sound gave the scene more gravity.
Julie was still holding Thomas to her chest when the gunman’s head next to her lurched back. A blotch of red instantly appeared on the back window. Julie and Thomas went down too. The driver must’ve heard the gunshot and immediately skidded the truck to a stop. Nick’s first thought was, he’s going to kill them. If they’re not already dead. There was no telling where the bullet came from and where it went after penetrating the gunman’s head.
The gunman in the truck bed lay slumped, his head unnaturally drooped to his right.
The driver jumped out of the truck and placed his hands on his head, turning in a circle, looking for the snipers. Nick didn’t trust him; he hoped Parker and Jenson didn’t either.
Julie and Thomas were still down, with no sign of movement. Nick had his hand over his mouth, while Stevie craned his neck closer to the screen.
Parker emerged from his nest, his rifle out in attack mode. He approached from the rear of the truck.
On the wireless headset, Nick heard Parker say, “You got the driver, Bill?”
From the opposite side of the road, and the front of the vehicle, Bill Jenson crept out of the woods, knees bent, rifle ready.
“I’ve got him,” Jenson announced.
It was over. But Julie and Thomas weren’t moving. Nick was paralyzed with fear. What had he done? Parker dropped his rifle and pulled himself over the tailgate. Nick could hear him breathing hard as he maneuvered around a lawnmower and got to his knees. First he examined the dead gunman, then shoved his corpse aside. He bent over Julie. Silent. Nothing. Nick’s knees were giving out. He leaned against the desk for support.
Parker placed a hand on Julie’s back. It was dark and hard to see, but there seemed to be some subtle movement.
“Are you okay?” Parker said.
Then Nick saw the most glorious sight he’d ever seen. Parker leaned back and held his thumb up to the satellite image.
“They’re fine,” Parker said into the headset.
Nick gripped Stevie’s shoulders, while Stevie clapped his hands in celebration. Nick had to wipe his eyes while he caught his breath.
The door to the office opened and Matt walked in carrying a cardboard container with three coffees as Nick and Stevie finished off a high five.