“So they’re on the loose.”
“That’s correct. They’re out and want the journal. Makes sense, because without it they weren’t able to find Paititi.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
Jack studied Drake’s face, noting the resolve in his gaze. “We need to put some serious distance between ourselves and them, because there’s not a doubt in my mind they’ll find us eventually if we let down our guard. Do you have a passport?”
“Sure. But it’s in my safe deposit box back home.”
“Well, hell. Let me think about that some. In the meantime, drop off the car, don’t call anyone or even hint at where you are, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll all get to live to see tomorrow.”
“How much did you tell Allie?”
“Enough. She’s wildly bright and knows me well, so she’s up to speed and understands we’ve got to take action. And she’s not a bad shot.”
“She’s got a gun?”
“Yup. I gave her one of the SIG Sauers. She’s had a lot of time on it, so she knows how to use it.” Jack smiled. “She was a tomboy growing up, and a girl in Texas learns how to shoot if she lives on a ranch.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Just don’t piss her off. She’s packing.”
Drake glanced at her sitting in the car. “Noted.”
Jack stopped at the truck and dropped his duffel in the bed next to the three gun cases he’d toted out earlier. He slipped a bulging backpack off his shoulder and slid it onto the passenger seat. “Drive the speed limit. Don’t attract attention. Get rid of the car, be pleasant to the counter clerk, and get out of there. We’re probably ahead of the game, but that won’t last forever. If we’re lucky, we just bought ourselves enough breathing room so that I can get you at least halfway ready before we take off. This isn’t the kind of job you want to learn on the fly if you can help it, because any mistakes once we’re in the field could cost you, or me, or Allie, our lives.”
Drake shook his head. “You’re really planning to let her come?”
“Try stopping her. I thought she was going to shoot me when I suggested she stay in the States. I’m serious. This, other than the murderous psychos stalking us, is her fantasy adventure.”
“Other than that.”
“Boy, you’re going to have hours to talk to her on the road, and you’re welcome to try to talk her out of it. My money’s on her.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“I haven’t lied to you yet. You got everything?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then. No point in dawdling. Get going. She’ll tail you to Austin.” He held out his hand.
Drake shook it, noting the hard calluses — they were a workingman’s hands. He climbed behind the wheel, twisted the key and put the car into reverse, and then executed a three-point turn and followed Jack’s truck out to the road.
Jack kept going past the on-ramp, bound for parts unknown, as Drake and Allie pulled onto the highway. Once up to speed, Drake checked every few minutes to make sure that Allie was still behind him. A vision of her flashing blue eyes and sultry looks filled his thoughts. He couldn’t figure her out — one minute she seemed friendly, and then the next she was cold and distant. But whatever was going on in her head, Drake couldn’t afford to spend much time worrying about it.
They were headed to a mystery destination that Jack had simply described as ‘someplace safe,’ with a truckload of guns and little else. Drake had already decided that he wasn’t going to tell Jack that he had the journal with him. That was his only ace in the hole, and he wasn’t going to give it up easily. The truth was that its actual whereabouts weren’t as important as the information in it, which he needed more time to pore over. His read had been cursory, and he hadn’t been as interested in the minutiae of his father’s reasoning about which patches of jungle were the most likely candidates as he had in the overall sense of the man he’d never known, and never would.
The rental clerk was sunny and efficient, and Drake was out of the office in less than five minutes and pacing to Allie’s waiting car. He’d paid cash, and the attendant had torn up the credit card form in front of him, so theoretically the trail ended at Austin airport, assuming the Russians could even access credit data. He’d done enough skip-tracing to know that many private investigation firms skirted the edges of the law, and that one could get banking records, phone records, and whatever one wanted if the money and motivation were sufficient. All it would take was one meeting, and within forty-eight hours his whole life would be laid out on someone’s table, his every financial move tracked by a system that frowned on cash.
Drake slipped into the passenger seat, noting that Allie smelled great, as he’d noticed she did when washing dishes. Her face looked as tranquil as an angel’s, with not a care in the world, for which he envied her no end.
“No complications?” she asked as she coasted out of the lot.
“Other than my life being turned upside down by this? No. All good.”
They drove in silence for five minutes, the radio on low, an insipid pop tune crooning about timeless love and shaking that groove thang.
“Where are we headed?” Drake asked.
“My dad’s got a friend with a spread between San Antonio and Corpus Christi. Only uses it maybe four months a year to dove and pheasant hunt. He’s some kind of Richie Rich type. It’s about the size of Connecticut. No exaggeration.”
“Wow. That’s convenient.”
Allie shrugged. “My father knows plenty of government types that seem to have an awful lot of money. I don’t ask questions. I learned that from him.” She sneaked a peek at his profile. “How are you set up for cash?”
“Actually, right now, great. Probably for the first time in my life. I got almost thirty grand from Patricia, with another seventy coming. So I’m good for a while.”
“You should talk to my dad about what it’s going to cost to fund a jungle exploration. It can’t be cheap.”
“I will. I’m still kind of hoping there’s a way out of this.”
“Right. And I keep hoping for gelato that’s good for you and tastes awesome.”
He laughed. “How’s that going?”
“My odds are better than yours.”
The trip took several hours, and when they pulled off a narrow strip of pavement onto a dirt road, it seemed like civilization was a thousand miles away. The tops of mature groves of trees rustled in a lazy breeze, and the flatlands seemed to go on forever, the green of the earth blending hazily into the crystal blue of an endless sky. They bounced down the rutted lane for a quarter mile and dead-ended at an elaborate iron gate suspended from two brick posts. Chain-link fence ran as far as they could see along the property on either side.
“A big place,” Drake commented as Allie climbed out of the driver’s seat and approached the barrier. The padlock was open, and she unfastened the chain and pushed the gate wide before returning to the car and pulling through.
“Close it and lock it up.”
“How do I know you won’t leave me here?” Drake teased, but only partially.
“Don’t tempt me.”
He did as instructed and returned to the car. Allie eased it down the road, now little more than a track with two ruts in the grass. Ten minutes later they saw a brown two-story log structure nestled among tall oaks. Jack’s truck was already parked at the side.
Jack materialized at the edge of the trees with a reel of fishing line in one hand. Allie parked next to the truck and they got out after she popped the trunk.
“Good. You made it,” Jack said as he neared.