Lights blinked through the trees around the next bend. As they continued on, the outline of buildings began to appear. Maybe they were nearing a village in the French countryside. Their fuel was almost out, but there might be enough to get them there. And if there were places to hide, it just might be their way out.
If only he could find a way to slow their pursuers down. Maybe they could…
He turned and pointed at the port and starboard sides of the craft. “Open those compartments.”
She moved toward the nearest one. “What am I looking for?”
“A flare gun. Do you know what one looks like?”
“I think so.”
As she opened the compartment door, Patrick marveled at how quickly he’d come up with the idea. Apparently, he was used to thinking on his feet while under duress.
Who am I?
“Found it!” Danielle held up a flare gun, which looked like a red-and-black revolver.
“How about flares?”
“There’s a whole box back here.”
They needed to move quickly in order for this to work. “Perfect. Now pop the barrel open and stick one in.”
She did as told. “Do you really think anyone will see—”
“Just do it.”
As they rounded the bend in the river, lighted homes appeared. It was a suburban neighborhood, with a park along the shore and houses beyond. Perfect. If they could manage to get a little more separation, they just might be able to pull this off.
He looked at Danielle, who had just snapped the barrel back into place. “Ready?”
She nodded.
A beach ran along the edge of the park. It was the perfect place to run the boat ashore, but Patrick couldn’t let the guards know what he had in mind. For all they knew, both boats had plenty of gas. That was where the flare came in. “Listen to me. I want you to fire directly at the boat then load another flare and fire again.”
“You want me to do it now?” she asked.
“Yes. Hurry!”
She bit her lower lip, lifted the gun, and took aim. Patrick faced forward, preparing to turn the boat as soon as she fired. Everything would have to happen in quick succession. One-two-three.
Not hearing anything, he looked back and saw Danielle trying to aim with precision. “Just fire it!”
She squeezed the trigger, and a loud pop rang out. The flare hissed toward the pursuing boat, causing the driver to veer toward the middle of the river. It was exactly what Patrick had hoped for.
“Do it again,” he yelled as he turned the craft toward the shore. “Quick!”
Danielle loaded another flare and fired a second time.
“Grab onto something,” Patrick shouted.
Danielle tossed the firearm aside and grabbed the gunwale. Seeing she was secure, he focused on the task ahead. The thin white strip of beach filled the view. About ten yards out, he let off the throttle, and the boat lurched violently as it glided up onto the sand, sending him tumbling backward. When the craft came to a stop, he slowly pushed himself up. As best he could tell, he hadn’t broken anything. His elbow throbbed with pain, but he wasn’t going to let that slow him down.
Danielle rushed over and helped him to his feet. With no time to lose, the two jumped off the boat, sprinted across the sand, and scaled a low chain-link fence. As they dropped down on the other side, two more shots were fired from the incoming boat. Patrick didn’t even bother to look back this time. Danielle was untouchable, so the gunfire was just meant to slow them down.
They sprinted across the park, weaving through a maze of bushes, sandboxes, and swing sets. Little light was left, but somehow they managed to make it across without tripping or running into anything. After passing through the park entrance, Patrick came to a halt. The neighborhood across the street stood dark and quiet, which meant it was probably well after midnight. He had hoped there would be people out and about who could call the police. Instead, the streets were eerily empty.
He glanced over his shoulder. Dark figures ran through the park, their gun-mounted lights waving back and forth like the eyes of dragons. At most, they had about a minute to get out of sight.
“What now?” Danielle asked as she caught her breath.
“We find a place to hide.”
Patrick motioned for her to follow him across the street. He had no plan in mind, but he knew they needed to keep moving. When they reached the other side, he saw a flash of red in his peripheral vision. A sign rose in front of the house on the left. He could read it from where they were standing: POUR LOUER. For Rent, he translated in his mind. So I speak French. The mystery of his past deepened. Unfortunately, he’d have to solve it later when he had more time.
Struck with an idea, he said, “Follow me.”
Patrick sprinted to the house. Thankfully, no dogs barked and no motion sensor lights turned on. Either would’ve ruined his plan. After climbing onto the porch, he crossed to the door, crouched down, and examined the lock.
“What are you doing?” Danielle asked.
“We’re going to break in.”
“So you were a burglar in your former life?”
“I’m beginning to wonder.”
Acting on instinct, he removed the laminated badge he’d taken from the man at the facility and slid it between the door and the doorjamb. He forced the edge of the badge against the point at which the latch bolt entered the strike plate and applied pressure. Slowly the badge gained traction, sliding the bolt back into the door. A few seconds later, it pushed all the way through, and the door swung inward.
Danielle’s eyes widened. “How did you do that?”
“Who knows, maybe I am a burglar.”
“When we get out of this, I want you to teach me how to do that.”
Patrick held a finger to his lips, indicating they should remain quiet. They crept inside, careful not to make any noise. Patrick shut the door behind them, locked it, then remained perfectly still, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior. They were in a room that ran across the front of the house. Directly ahead, a hallway ran to the rear.
Satisfied they were alone, he crossed to a window and lifted one of the slats. The guards had arrived on the other side of the street. One of them — a man Patrick assumed was the leader — pointed to the right, and immediately several men moved in that direction. The man then pointed toward the rental house and gestured for the remaining men to follow him.
Remembering something, Patrick stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out the contents. He looked at each item one at a time.
It has to be here. It has to be.
He crouched and looked on the floor around him, but there was nothing there.
It was then the truth hit him like a splash of cold water.
He’d left the badge on the porch.
Chapter Four
“They’re coming!” Danielle whispered as she stared through the blinds.
Her words fell on deaf ears. Patrick was too busy beating himself up for leaving the badge outside. After making so many good decisions, how could he have done something so reckless? As soon as the guards found it, they would swarm the house, and their escape attempt would come to a swift and potentially lethal end.
He pushed the negative thoughts aside. No, it wasn’t over. There was always hope. He just needed to remain positive and formulate a plan. He sorted through a number of options. Maybe he should wait and attack the first man through the door. He would grab the man’s rifle and use it to take out as many of the others as he could. After letting it play out in his mind, he doubted it would work. Even if he could somehow wrestle the man’s weapon away, he’d still be severely outgunned. Not only that, but Danielle might be killed or injured by a stray round. Her safety was paramount.