She nodded. The explanation largely made sense.
“I decided there was no one I could fully trust to come get you other than myself,” he said. “That’s why…”
Kat grabbed his sleeve and motioned for silence. She was looking intently toward the road in front of the cabin. In the growing light of dawn, she could just make out the dark shape of the Lincoln sedan that had brought Jordan as it idled in front.
“What?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sh-h-h!” she replied, kneeling down for a second and pulling him with her, her eyes riveted on the car. “Your car,” she whispered.
The front door of the car closed and a figure slid behind the wheel.
Maybe the driver got out for a moment, she thought.
But there was movement around the back of the car. Two figures, in fact, dragging something down the road and into the trees. With a start she realized they were dragging a body. Jordan James stiffened beside her as he, too, realized what they were seeing.
“Jordan, stay here. I’ll get Robert and the doctor out of there.”
“Then what?” he asked.
She shook her head and took off in a crouch toward the rear of the house. He saw her go in, watched several lights go out in the back, and more come on in the front of the house before realizing that the three of them had slipped out the back door and were running toward him, carrying their bags. As they reached James’s position, Robert finished fastening the hooks over the zipper of the oversized coat he had borrowed.
“Who are they?” Dr. Maverick asked, panting.
Kat shook her head. “I don’t know, but what’s behind your place? Any roads or police stations or anything?”
“No. Nothing. About a mile from here there’s a small shopping center, but it’s too far to walk through the woods.”
Another vehicle had turned the far corner of the road and was moving toward the house, slowing as it came. It stopped a hundred yards away, behind another parked vehicle, and killed its lights, but no one got out.
“Reinforcements,” Kat whispered. “It may not take them long to figure out we’ve left.” She turned to Dr. Maverick. “Does anyone around here have a car we could appropriate? And is there another way out of here?”
He thought for a few seconds, then pointed to the other side of the cabin. “Through that patch of woods, there’s a house with a detached garage that has a small snow tractor — a Sno-Cat, I think they call it. It can seat six people. But I don’t know if it’ll start, and we’d have to break in.”
“Would the owner be around?”
“No. Not this time of year. He spends November and December in France.”
“Let’s go,” Kat replied, letting Dr. Maverick move out first.
The lock on the garage was stout, but the screws on the hinge were weak enough to wrench free with the handle of a rake, and there was enough room for all four in the cab. Kat jumped behind the wheel, relieved to find the ignition didn’t require a key.
“How do we get out of here?” she asked as the engine rumbled to life.
“Right turn out of his driveway.”
The answer momentarily stopped her. “That would take us past your house!”
“No other way… oh! Of course. It’s a Sno-Cat. Turn left. We’ll crush a few gardens, but there’s another road about three hundred yards in that direction.”
“I’m going to keep the lights off,” Kat said, slipping the machine in gear and moving out of the garage. “It’s getting close to sunrise anyway.”
The sound of an engine in the predawn quiet caught the immediate attention of Arlin Schoen as he crouched behind one of the rented Suburbans. He lifted a small radio transceiver to his mouth. “What is that?”
“Don’t know,” the answer came back. “It’s a block or more away. Sounds like a road grader or snowplow.”
Schoen thought for a second, studying the bright lights in the living room of the Maverick cabin. He lifted the radio again. “How many do you see inside the house now?”
“Ah, at the moment, maybe one. Hard to tell. I see no movement.”
“Anyone talking?”
“No. They’re probably whispering.”
“Anyone watching the back?” Schoen snapped, standing bolt upright.
“No. We can see the back door through the front windows.”
“They’ve left, you idiots!” Schoen growled, and turned to the others. “Get in! Head for the sound of that motor.” He raised the radio to his mouth again as he climbed in. “Move in on the house. Now! Report back.”
The engine of the Suburban roared to life and the lights came on. The driver fishtailed away from the side of the street and accelerated as much as he dared. The headlights were picking up nothing as they crested a small rise on the other side of the cabin and followed the road to the left, braking hard to avoid sliding through a grove of trees at the end.
“This is a damn dead end. Where’s that sound coming from?” Arlin Schoen asked, leaping out to stand on the running board and listen. The engine could be heard in the distance ahead, moving away, but also to the right.
He jumped back in and slammed the door. “Turn around! Turn around! There’s got to be a road over there.”
The radio crackled to life as they roared past the house again. “Ah… you were right. There’s no one inside.”
“Find MacCabe’s damned computer and follow us!” Schoen barked.
“There’s a larger road just beyond,” Thomas Maverick said. “If we get to it and go a couple of hundred yards, we can go across meadows toward the town.”
“Which way to the airport?” Kat asked.
“Same way.”
“What are you thinking, Kat?” Jordan asked.
She turned partially in his direction as she kept the machine moving steadily forward. “Can you call your Gulfstream back? I’ve got my phone…” she offered.
Jordan pulled out a small digital cell phone. “I’ve got one.” He dialed in the appropriate number and made the necessary arrangements, then disconnected.
“They’ll be here in an hour and a half.”
Kat glanced at him with a stricken look on her face. “That won’t be soon enough.”
CHAPTER 46
The driver of the Suburban was sweating as he turned around at the third snowy dead end and accelerated back toward the one road he was sure of.
“Hurry, dammit!” Schoen barked, as he sat with his nose practically against the windshield, his eyes searching for any sign of the tracked vehicle they were trying to intercept.
“Probably a snowmobile of some sort,” the driver said.
There was no response from the right seat.
They rocketed down the feeder road and skidded to a halt just past another turnoff. The driver threw the Suburban into reverse, backed up, and turned onto the road. His headlights caught the glint of something crossing a half mile ahead.
“There they are!” Schoen muttered, his hands opening and closing around the Uzi he was carrying. “Go! GO, GO, GO!”
“I’m going! There’re limits, you know,” the driver replied.
“It’s a Sno-Cat,” Schoen said, watching the machine move off the right side of the road and accelerate toward a grove of trees, and open fields beyond. The driver skidded to a halt where the tracks crossed the road into the adjacent field.