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“So,” Robert said, “it’s probable whoever’s chasing us won’t have access to that information. Okay. Maybe a half mile more.”

With Robert in the lead, the small group resumed walking, moving faster than before as the vegetation thinned somewhat next to the south bank of the river. The temperature was still mild and the sun at a steeper angle on the western horizon. In less than twenty minutes they stopped at the edge of a broad clearing, staying out of view as Steve pulled out the emergency radio, turned on the GPS function, and turned on the beacon. That done, he handed the radio to Dan to transmit a voice message.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. We are five of the eight survivors from Meridian Flight Five. Two others were murdered by the occupants of an American-built helicopter, a Huey, that arrived at the crash site just after dawn. A third has been killed by… an explosion in the jungle. We need immediate aid and protection at these coordinates. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday.”

DA NANG AIRPORT, VIETNAM

Kat watched the state-of-the-art Global Express business jet drop away as her Huey gained altitude, and wondered if she’d made the right decision. If it was gone when she returned, it would be all but impossible to track. With over a 6,000 mile range and the transponder turned off, they could escape to practically anywhere on the planet, moving out of radar coverage almost immediately.

The flight back to the crash site seemed very brief. When the pilot pointed to the ugly gash marking the site, Kat slipped carefully over the barrier separating the passenger seats from the front and into the left copilot’s seat.

“Okay, bring us down to treetop level and start from the northwest corner of that clearing, heading west.”

The pilot nodded and moved the controls to comply as Kat wondered why she was hearing a new sound above the native roar of the helicopter. It was intermittent and high-pitched, like an electronic warble, and it was very distant. She tried to concentrate on scanning the landscape ahead of her, but the sound kept interceding until its origin finally dawned on her.

Kat turned and motioned to Pete Phu, pointing to her purse. He handed it to her and she yanked open the flap to pull out the satellite phone and unfold the antenna.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was too soft, and she struggled to raise the volume.

“Hold on! I’m in flight and it’s hard to hear.” She toggled it up to maximum and held it to her ear again.

“Kat, can you hear me?”

“Who is this?”

“Jake!” he replied.

“Okay, Jake. Talk loud.”

“We’ve received an emergency message by satellite, Kat. You were right. There were eight survivors. Three are dead. Five need immediate rescue.” Jake repeated the message that had been recorded, and gave her the coordinates.

“Thank God! We can do it, Jake. I’ll call you as soon as we have them,” Kat promised. She disconnected and leaned toward the pilot. “Do you have a GPS?”

He shook his head no.

“How about a map?”

The major nodded and handed over his area navigation chart. Kat buried herself in it with the coordinates and a pen, finally bringing the lines together and circling the resulting point on the surface. She looked closely, following what appeared to be a river to a point just east of a highway bridge, and handed the folded map back to the pilot.

“Here. We need to pick up five people right here.”

The major looked skeptical as he brought the Huey into a left-hand orbit and began matching the features below with the map. After a couple of minutes, he looked up, smiled at Kat, and pushed the cyclic control forward as he inclined his head to the west.

“About six miles,” he said. “No problem.”

CHAPTER 26

IN THE JUNGLE,
19 MILES NORTHWEST OF DA NANG, VIETNAM
NOVEMBER 13—DAY TWO
5:43 P.M. LOCAL/1043 ZULU

Dallas placed her hand gently on Dan Wade’s shoulder, causing him to jump slightly.

“It’s Dallas, Danny. How’re you doing?”

He reached up and patted her hand. “Better, I think. I mean, maybe it’s false hope, but I’m daring to think that maybe the damage to my eyes isn’t permanent. The pain has diminished. Whatever it was that got us, I only got a glancing blow.”

“Are you seeing any light through that bandage?” she asked.

“I think so, but Graham said to keep it on for now.”

She squeezed his hand. “Here’s hoping and praying.”

“What do you see out there?” he asked.

“Well, we’re about ten yards back from the edge of a clearing. I guess you’d call it a clearing, or sort of a natural open space in the jungle. It’s pretty wide, probably about a quarter mile across to where the trees get thick again. I gotta tell you, Dan, this isn’t like the scary, snake-infested, tiger-prowling jungles I expected, although the bugs aren’t far from the stereotype.”

“Those jungles are to the south, Dallas. They’re beautiful, but can be deadly, too.”

The distant sound of rotor blades slapping the air at considerable forward speed vibrated into their consciousnesses.

Dallas turned to Steve. “I think that radio of yours attracted some attention.”

“Hope so,” Steve said, his eyes scanning the sky behind them, where the sound seemed to be coming from. The volume increased steadily. Robert got to his feet and joined Steve Delaney’s attempt to spot the source of the sound in the eastern sky.

The helicopter popped over a ridge, the rhythmic noise slapping at them until it flew directly overhead and pulled its nose up, slowing rapidly before turning and descending into the clearing. The pilot brought the craft to a hover less than fifty feet from the eastern edge of the clearing, moving along slowly as a figure in the open left door stood and waved.

“That’s a woman,” Dallas exclaimed, looking startled.

“My God in heaven,” Robert MacCabe said under his breath, his eyes fixed on the face of the female in the doorway. “I don’t believe it. That’s Kat Bronsky!”

* * *

Kat leaned toward the pilot, trying to make herself heard. “Keep coming forward slowly. They’re out there somewhere.” She resumed waving as broadly as she could, her eyes scanning the perimeter of the clearing, but seeing no one at first.

Without warning, five figures suddenly burst into view, running toward the Huey and waving back.

“There!” She turned to the pilot. “Land! Now!”

He turned and tapped his ear, then understood her gesture and unloaded the blades, lessening the lift they produced and letting the Huey drop rather smartly onto the surface.

Kat jumped from the open door, waving at what appeared to be a black woman, a man with a bandaged face, a young boy, another man… and Robert MacCabe! She felt a small shiver of excitement as he waved back.

Pete Phu had jumped to the ground as well, and the two of them helped the five refugees into the Huey, with Kat bringing up the rear. Robert reached out to help her in, pulling her up and into his arms for a surprising bear hug and kiss, a broad grin on his face as he aped a very bad Bogart accent. “Of all the sleazy meadows in all the sleazy jungles in all the backwaters of the world, you fly into mine!”

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you alive,” Kat said, pulling away from him to close the door and order the pilot to take off. “Okay, let’s get back in the air and…”

There was a popping noise from somewhere to the right and glass shattered in the cockpit. The possibility of a mechanical problem crossed Kat’s mind as she wondered why the pilot was leaning so far to the left. There was a broken window on his right as he continued to fall over the center console.