White drew himself up. “I wouldn’t cut you out. Besides, where would I hide her while I negotiated with the buyers? You’re the one with the network down here, not me. You’d find her in a heartbeat.”
Smoking Man just pulled on the cigarette, watching White with his hard, dead eyes.
“You want to see what we do to those who betray us?” He jutted his chin at Sumner, still held against the boulder. “Continue.”
The bodyguard stubbed out his own cigarette. He untied Sumner’s hands, grabbed Sumner’s right arm, and yanked it flat across the boulder, holding it in place. He dropped his weapon on the ground. He pulled a machete out of a holder attached to his belt. Smoking Man and White watched with anticipation for the bodyguard’s next move. He raised the machete high.
Emma realized in that instant what he intended to do. She let go of the rosary, flattened again onto her stomach, pulled the rifle into position, flicked it into automatic mode, placed the crosshairs on the spot where she’d buried the mine, and started firing. Bullets hammered into the ground above the device.
It exploded.
The force of the blast knocked both White and the bodyguard backward. The machete flew out of the bodyguard’s hand. White landed hard, but regained his feet and ran behind the hut. The bodyguard rolled to his stomach and crawled into the trees, dragging a bloody leg.
Emma wasted no time in sighting her second target, Smoking Man. She flicked the gun back to semiautomatic. She’d wasted only six seconds between blowing the mine and turning to her next shot, but they were enough to save Smoking Man. He dove downward. Emma’s single shot flew harmlessly over him, hitting the trunk of a tree growing thirty yards behind him. In a flash Smoking Man was on his feet. He dove behind the hut. Emma heard the ominous sound of helicopter rotors thumping in the dawn light, growing louder. The pilot was beginning his search for her.
At the sound of the shots, and the minute the bodyguard fell, Sumner was up and running toward the hut. Emma looked for White. She saw the driver’s-side door of the Range Rover open. Sunlight reflected off the moving window. White’s head and shoulders appeared above the metal door. Emma watched as he bent to put a key in the ignition. The Range Rover’s engine roared to life. The vehicle’s wheels spun on the dirt, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as White threw it in gear. He drove past the hut, headed away. The car bounced over the ruts in the dirt trail. Emma could hear the suspension squeak in protest. The car fell into yet another rut and the right side tilted at an angle.
The car exploded. Emma watched it burn with a strange mixture of elation and disgust. She dragged her attention away. She didn’t want to let herself feel anything over White’s death. She needed to keep her emotions in check until she got herself to safety.
Emma heard shouting from the soldiers at the boat. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were coming. Added to the sound of the soldier’s yelling came the ever-increasing noise of the approaching helicopter.
54
EMMA HAULED THE REMAINING TWO RIFLES OVER HER SHOULDER and headed for the hut to deliver them to Sumner and the wounded soldier. Sumner was there, bending over the soldier, when gunfire exploded through the hut’s back wall. The bullets punched through the wood, creating a dotted line behind Sumner’s head. He hit the deck, pulling the seated soldier flat. Emma threw herself down. The bullets winged over her head.
Sumner wrapped his arms under the soldier’s to drag him across the hut’s dirt floor. He kept low, crawling on one knee as he dragged. His crouch saved him. Emma watched as bullets continued to shatter the wood, this time even lower. Either Smoking Man or the injured bodyguard was behind the hut, shooting directly into it in an attempt to kill anyone left inside. Emma needed to get around the structure to see who it was.
The helicopter appeared overhead. Emma looked up and saw the cracked windshield.
“Sumner, stay where you are!” she screamed over the din. Sumner reached the hut’s entrance but stopped. The bullet holes appeared behind him. The helicopter hovered above him. Emma recognized the pilot and Smoking Man’s second bodyguard. The guard held an automatic rifle in his right hand. He yelled something at the pilot, and the helo swung around and began descending. While it did, the guerrilla began firing down, over the hut’s roof. Smoking Man continued to punch holes into the back of the hut, each set lower than the last, while the hovering helicopter rained fire at the hut’s entrance. Sumner and the soldier were caught in the middle.
Emma pulled her own weapon. Her angle was all wrong, it was unlikely that she’d hit the man hovering over Sumner. She fired anyway. She targeted the pilot’s window. Her first shot hit the helicopter’s body and pinged off harmlessly. The second cracked through the glass. She heard a yell and the helicopter reversed course, shooting up and away from the hut.
Emma grabbed the rifles and ran to the hut. Once she cleared the trees, she looked to her right. She could see the soldiers pulling the dinghy onto the beach. The helicopter spun around and turned back to face her. She continued running to the hut, the rifles banging on her shoulder.
MIGUEL REMAINED IN A HAZE of pain. He felt Sumner hauling him across the hut’s floor. He could see the bullets flying through the back wall, but he couldn’t bring himself to help Sumner by taking over and crawling on his own. It was as if his legs belonged to someone else, they didn’t move at his command.
The rising sun hit his eyes when his head was two feet from the hut’s entrance. Sumner was dragging him along on his back, so he got a wonderful view of the helicopter hovering over the hut and the man inside preparing to blow them away. Miguel was too weak even to yell a warning, but he thought he heard someone scream at Sumner to stay put. Sumner reversed direction and shoved Miguel back inside the hut.
Seconds later, Miguel saw the helicopter veer off. He took a look outside to see what had scared it away. He was astonished to see a wild woman running toward him. Her skin was caked with dried mud and her hair hung past her shoulders in dreadlocklike clumps. She grimaced, revealing white teeth that glowed against her blackened face. She wore a dirty gray T-shirt torn at the neck. She was thin and tall, and moved in long, fluid strides. While she did, she removed a gun off her shoulder and catapulted it into the air like a spear. Sumner reached up and caught it in one hand. She threw another that sailed over them. It landed on the hut’s floor and skittered across to the far wall. She disappeared around the corner.
Miguel wasn’t leaving that weapon behind. “Sumner, let go of me. I need that rifle,” he said.
EMMA CRAWLED ON HER ELBOWS and knees, her weapon held in her hands, around the hut. She stopped at the corner and peered around it. Smoking Man was busy reloading. He stood up to deliver another volley. Before he could, the hut’s wall coughed up splinters of wood as someone from inside shot through it. Two of the bullets hit Smoking Man. One in his thigh, the other in his arm. He staggered away.
Emma was up in a flash and ran back around to the hut’s entrance. The wounded soldier was conscious and aimed a rifle at the back wall. He’d shot Smoking Man. Recognition flashed across his face when he saw her.
“You’re Ms. Caldridge,” he said.
Emma didn’t bother to ask him how he knew her name. Sumner was checking the back of the hut. He swung around at the soldier’s voice. Some strong emotion rippled across his face at the sight of her. She directed her attention to the soldier.
“We’ve got to move. The helicopter is still out there as well as a small platoon of soldiers.”
“How many?” Sumner moved to stand behind the open door to survey the area.
“Four. One is a young boy. Do your best not to kill him. He helped me escape.”