THE SEAPLANE’S ENGINE COUGHED AGAIN, and then died. The propeller froze. Jake went into emergency mode—all extraneous thought pushed aside while he worked to solve the problem. He switched off the master switch and lowered the flaps while looking for landing options. They were only a thousand feet above the ground. With a 9:1 glide ratio, that meant they could travel nearly two miles before touching down. If they maintained their current course, that would put them well past the flats below. However, they’d never reach the river beyond. They’d crash in the forest and wouldn’t live to talk about it. Plus, they were too far from the lake to turn back.
There was only one choice, and his gut churned. He gauged the distance between the two groups of mercs—one to their right, the other dead ahead—and chose a point at the edge of the flats to his left that was equidistant from both. He banked the plane and increased the angle of descent.
“Fasten your seat belts as tight as possible. We’re going to come down hard and fast. And as soon as we land, we’re piling out of here and running for the tree line. Understood?”
Alex gritted his teeth as he tugged on his seat belt to tighten it. “I’m ready!”
“Me, too,” Lucy said.
“Just before we touch down, I want you both to unlatch your doors. That’ll keep them from jamming if we hit too hard. We need to get down, get out, and climb over the debris berm like our lives depended on it. I’m going to roll the plane right up next to it. Understood?”
“I got it, Dad.” Alex’s voice was shaky, and Jake patted his knee. When he glanced back at Lucy, she gave him three rapid nods.
Jake aimed the plane’s nose at the tree line. As they got closer to the berm, he realized the mercs would probably catch up to them before they could disappear over the top.
“Now listen up. I’m going to slow the mercs down with the shotgun before following you.” Alex opened his mouth to object, but decided against it when Jake shook his head. “And here’s the most important thing to remember. Both of you. If I get hung up for any reason, don’t wait for me!”
“But—”
“I mean it, Alex. You and Lucy have to get to the forest. After that, Lucy’s skills will keep you hidden. You can head back to the village, and one way or another I’ll find you.” He prayed this was true.
Alex’s lips tightened, and his eyes teared up.
Jake softened his voice. “No matter what, you keep running. Okay?”
Alex nodded.
“We can do it,” Lucy said.
Jake refocused on the ground ahead, grateful the surface was relatively flat. “Thirty seconds,” he said, pulling his door handle. “Unlatch your doors and hang on.” They complied. Though the rushing wind kept the doors closed, they rattled against their frames. He was coming in hot, forty knots above the airplane’s normal landing speed. After they touched down, he’d have to stand on the brakes to keep from crashing into the berm. Even though the aircraft was amphibious, the wheels only projected partway from the pontoons, and he worried whether the impact would be too much for the undercarriage to handle.
“Fifteen seconds.” He noticed movement on top of the berm ahead. It was one of the merc groups from the lake, and the first two men over the ridge raised their rifles.
“Hang on!” Like a crop duster at the end of a run, the Cessna climbed out of the dive, with Jake yanking the stick back and over to exchange airspeed for altitude as they turned back toward the flats. But without power, he had to dump the stick forward at the apex of the climbing turn. The Cessna went weightless and the unlatched doors flew open. Alex and Lucy screamed. When Jake leveled the plane, he heard a loud clunk in the backseat.
“I’m okay,” Lucy shouted. “The shotgun floated for a second and crashed to the floor.”
Jake steered toward the only remaining side of the flats that didn’t have mercs streaming onto it. They’d never make it close enough to that berm to get away, but he was out of options. He’d bled off his excess airspeed and lost most of his altitude, and now the laws of nature took over. He lowered the nose and glided toward the ground, knowing full well their pursuers would be on them within minutes. They touched down, braked to a stop, and spilled out.
Jake checked the shotgun. It still had several explosive rounds left in the drum. They wouldn’t be enough to stop all the mercs, but he might be able use them to negotiate freedom for Alex and Lucy. Barring that, he sure as hell wouldn’t go down without a fight. He flipped off the safety.
“Get behind the pontoons and keep your heads down.”
“Can’t we run?” Lucy asked. The empty berm was only two hundred yards away. “We could beat them there. Once we’re over the top and into the forest, they’ll never catch us.”
“You can’t outrun a bullet from an assault rifle, Lucy. And we’re already within range. Please, hunker down behind the pontoon. I’ll handle this.”
“Dad’s right,” Alex said, taking her hand. “Come on.”
They moved behind the plane, and Jake took several steps to one side to make sure they weren’t in the line of fire of any of the mercs.
The groups trotted toward him from three different directions. As they got closer, he noticed the troops were dressed differently. One group appeared to be uniformed soldiers, and Jake was reminded of the stories he’d read about nearby Peruvian army factions who secretly worked for the drug cartels. Like the other mercs, they sold their talents to the highest bidders. The other two groups were dressed in a hodge-podge of clothing and equipment, but they appeared every bit as hardened as the soldiers. He had little doubt they all shared dark histories and a healthy appetite for the almighty dollar, or Brazilian real, or whatever. Despite their differences, the mercs all had two things in common: they bristled with weapons, and they wanted Jake’s head.
And that makes every damn one of you expendable.
The uniformed group increased its pace, and the other two were quick to match it, each one striving to be the first to claim the prize.
He counted twenty-three men in all. Any one of them would likely kill another if it meant gaining the reward. He wondered if there was a way he could turn them against one another. He got his hopes up when a sprinter broke from the rightmost group, and several men from each of the other groups hauled ass to catch up to him. One of the runners shoved a competitor, who tripped and fell. The third man, one of the uniformed soldiers, raised his weapon at the two of them.
“That’s right, suckers,” Jake said. “Turn on one another like the filthy, backstabbing scum you are.”
The apparent leader of the soldiers fired two shots into the air. All three of the runners stopped and looked back at him. The man barked an order, and the subordinate pointing his rifle lowered the weapon.
Damn it.
The groups caught up to the runners, each squad moving warily, keeping their distance from one another. The uniformed officer who’d fired his weapon holstered his pistol and approached the other groups. The two other leaders joined him, the three had a powwow, and then shook hands.
A score of men armed with assault rifles against one with a shotgun, a pistol, and a Bowie knife—on an open field. Jake didn’t have a chance. But the mercs seemed to take comfort in their new alliance, and as they walked en masse, they relaxed their weapons. Their prey was trapped. All that was left to do was chop up the remains and split the reward.
But Jake had an ace up his sleeve. The men probably weren’t aware he had high-explosive rounds in the AA-12. Sure, he’d still be cut down in the end, but so what?
You can’t hurt me. I’m already a dead man.
He longed more than ever for a surge from the mini to blast the lot of them to kingdom come. But the artifact was gone forever. He still had his brain, which was already calculating angles and vectors. He adjusted the muzzle of the shotgun, maintaining a less threatening hip-fire grip in the hopes of keeping them off guard. The men were less than two hundred yards away, well within the kill zone.
He took comfort in the knowledge that even though his life was forfeit, the men would go to great lengths to keep Alex alive. That made him rethink his strategy about the kids staying put. Casting his voice over his shoulder, he said, “As soon I start shooting, run as fast as you can. And don’t look back!”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He opened fire.
The burst tore through the center of the pack of mercenaries, toppling a handful like pins at a bowling alley. The others scattered and started shooting. Jake cut to the right, slid to one knee, and fired again, grateful to discover his fast reflexes were intact. Two more men went down. Bullets pierced the air around him. He tucked, rolled, and squeezed the trigger again.
The shotgun jammed after the second round.
He dropped the weapon, rolled again, pulled his pistol, and put lead down range. Another man dropped. Rounds dug into the ground around him, and a sudden pain along his scalp made his vision go white. He pushed to his feet and fired blindly until his magazine went dry. Then he holstered the SIG, pulled out the Bowie knife, and swept it back and forth in front of him, realizing only then that his berserk cry was the only sound he heard. The return gunfire had ceased, replaced by angry shouts. Blood dripped down his forehead.
“Grab them!” someone shouted.
Jake wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Alex and Lucy stood five feet in front of him. He blinked.
“I couldn’t let them kill you,” Alex said. The surviving mercs weren’t shooting, but they were coming fast. His son had moved in front of Jake to shield him, knowing they wouldn’t fire for risk of damaging their prize. In a sign of solidarity that would certainly result in her death, Lucy had joined him.
“Dear God, you two. Get behind me, quick!”
Neither of them budged. Jake slipped the knife into its sheath, edged between them, and held their hands. Both of them trembled. “You were supposed to run.”
“We did run,” Alex said. “As fast as we could. Any slower and you’d be dead.”
The quip did little to make Jake feel better. Even though Jake suspected he’d be dead in the next few minutes, a part of him believed his son would go on to lead the long life Gualu had granted by healing him. The mercs would sell Alex for millions of dollars to the highest bidder, but whoever got their hands on him had another thing coming if they figured Alex would be simple to control. He might go easy at first, but all the while his brain would be setting up the play that would take them down.
Like father, like son.
That day over eight years ago in the MRI, facing a terminal diagnosis, Jake had wished for only one thing—to live long enough to make a difference in this life. He looked down at his son and realized he’d done exactly that. He smiled.
The mercs were twenty paces away. They were mad as hell, thirsty for blood, and there was nothing Jake could do to stop them.