Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dirk began pulling gear out of the bags he had taken from the chopper. His ribs were aching, but he didn’t think they were broken. The cut on his head could use a few stitches, but they’d found a first aid kit in the helo and Meg had helped him construct a butterfly bandage that would have to do. He’d have a scar, but he had plenty of those already.
“We’ve got a couple of one-man tents and a pair of sleeping bags,” he told Meg. “Water and a couple of MREs—that’s meals ready to eat. They’re not too bad in a pinch. Elliott had a GPS and batteries in his gear bag. Looks like he carries a Glock nine mil. We’ve got plenty of weapons. Might be able to hunt up some food if we run out. I found blankets and a big canvas tarp in the helo.”
He went back again to the old Sikorsky Elliott had been flying, scrounged around, brought back a handful of water bottles and a few more MREs.
Dirk walked over to Luke. They had immobilized his shoulder and packed ice around his ankle; best they could do for now.
“The radios are down,” Dirk said. “No help there. The satphone took a hit. Case is smashed. It won’t send, so we can’t call anyone.”
“Leave it on. It might be transmitting a signal. Maybe someone will pick it up.”
Meg walked up just then. “Nick went to Chile on the jet. He’s going to know something happened to us when we don’t make it to the airport.”
“Unfortunately he’ll start looking in Argentina,” Luke said. “He’ll figure something went wrong with the op.”
“We can’t wait for someone to find us,” Dirk said. “Not with Elliott’s head injury and being low on supplies. We need to get the camp set up. Put up the tents and get everyone ready for the cold tonight. Elliott wisely chose to dump the chopper in the snow. Judging from the angle that blade sheared off, he probably saved our lives.”
“Yeah, that was some flying,” Luke said. “Amazing we didn’t end up crashing into the side of the mountain.”
Meg shuddered. Dirk shot a warning glance at Luke and put an arm around her shoulders. Meg didn’t need to be reminded how close she had come to dying—again.
“Unfortunately we’re going to freeze our asses off if the wind comes up,” Dirk said. A flurry of snow whipped off the ground, proving his point.
He studied the terrain beyond the snow line, where the ground was ruthlessly steep and covered with dense forests and heavy vegetation.
“According to my GPS,” he said, “we’re only about fifteen miles from a road. If Luke and Elliott weren’t injured, we could walk the hell out of here.”
Luke sat up a little straighter. “Are you kidding? I just need to make myself a crutch and I’m good to go.”
Meg rolled her eyes and Dirk grinned. “You need to stay here, keep Meg and Elliott safe. I’ll head out for help. You can hold the fort till I get back.”
Luke raised a dark eyebrow. “So you trust me with your woman?”
Dirk grinned. “After seeing what she did to Gertsman and you not being a hundred percent—yeah.”
Luke laughed. It was a good sound, one that promised everything would be okay.
“Let’s get this place tricked out,” Dirk said. “Then I’m out of here.”
* * *
By noon Dirk was ready to leave the camp. Elliott was conscious, with a pounding headache and fighting nausea. Without his helmet he was a good-looking, dark-haired man, powerfully built, with dark eyes, a strong jaw, and a cleft in his chin. Meg had used the snow to make an ice pack for the back of his head.
They’d used broken pieces and parts and cut up upholstery from the chopper to immobilize Luke’s shoulder and get his arm in a makeshift sling. He downed a handful of aspirin from the first aid kit with a swig of water, then insisted Dirk make him a crutch out of a long strip of heavy aluminum he found.
Dirk figured a way to pad one end with chunks of foam rubber, and though Luke’s shoulder must have been hurting like a bitch, he was hobbling around the camp as if the funny-looking crutch was attached to him.
They put up a lean-to against the relentless sun beating down on the glaring snow, and managed to locate a couple of pairs of sunglasses. Dirk shoved Elliott’s wraparound shades over his eyes and walked over to pitch the tents and get the sleeping bags ready. There wasn’t much they could use for a signal fire, but he did the best he could, then soaked the debris with fuel dripping out of the chopper.
He strapped on a backpack he’d loaded with his GPS, a water bottle, and some energy bars. He’d run out of bullets for the Walther so he was carrying Elliott’s Glock. His palm-sized .22 rode in his front pocket.
Gertsman’s men had missed it. The little gun had been part of his escape plan as he’d walked down the hall with Neville, a desperate plan at best. Thanks to Helmut Mueller, he hadn’t had to try it.
He was ready to head out when Meg walked up to him. “I wish I could go with you.”
“You aren’t dressed for it, baby. Those boots have to be killing you, and the truth is, you’d just slow me down.”
She pressed her lips together and he could see she was fighting not to cry. “I know.” She looked into his face. “I need to tell you something. You don’t have to say it back. I just ... I love you. I—”
“Jesus, Meg, you picked a piss poor time for this.” Dragging her into his arms, he kissed her long and deep, ending the conversation. “I’ve got things I need to say to you, too, but not here. Not now. Not until we’re out of here and safe. Yeah?”
“I just ... I wanted you to know.”
“Dammit, I love you, too. I wish we were somewhere else. Somewhere romantic so I could say it right.”
She smiled, leaned up, and very softly kissed him. “You saved my life. There’s nothing more romantic than that.”
“Yeah?”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“We still have a lot to discuss.”
“I know.” She kissed him sweetly. “Please be safe. I don’t want to lose you again.”
Dirk started to tell her not to worry, that nothing could keep him from coming back. He’d spent weeks in the mountains of Afghanistan. The Andes were higher, just as harsh and remote, but he knew what he was doing. He had to get Meg safely home to her son. That was reason enough for him to return.
A distant sound caught his attention. It was the distinctive whopping of a chopper. Hope surged through him. He looked up to see a helicopter coming straight toward them. Dirk threw his hands in the air and started waving. Meg was jumping up and down, waving her arms and shouting.
“Light the fire!” Dirk shouted across the camp, but Luke was already crouching down on the snow, setting the fire ablaze.
“They see us!” Meg shouted. “They’re circling!”
Dirk watched the big red search and rescue B-429 hover, then sink lower, finally settle itself gently on the snow. When the heavy doors slid open, Nick Brodie jumped down from inside, followed by a two-man medical team who headed straight to where Elliott lay on the snow.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” Dirk said as Nick walked toward them.
“Not as glad as I am to see you.” Nick leaned in and clasped his shoulders in a solid man hug.
Meg hugged Nick, and Luke hobbled over to join them. “Good to see your ugly face, cuz. How the hell did you find us?”
Nick smiled. “The satphone. Sadie’s been keeping track of our movements all along. When the signal stopped just over the border on this side of the Andes and you didn’t show up at the airport, I figured you were in trouble. Sadie charted your last location and I called search and rescue at Puerto Montt. It’s one of Chile’s SAR bases, only seventeen miles from the airport at El Tepual.”
“So as usual Luke was right,” Dirk said. “I’m damned glad you were on the jet instead of with us on the chopper.”
Nick smiled at Luke. “Yeah, and I’m sure he’ll never let us hear the end of it.”
Luke just grinned.
It didn’t take long for the rescue operations people to have Brandon Elliott secured and aboard, then Luke. Meg refused to go, determined to stay till the helicopter returned to bring Dirk and Nick out of the makeshift camp, along with what they could gather of their gear.
By the time the second group had reached the El Tepual airport, Luke had been patched up, Elliott had been admitted to a nearby hospital, and Interpol had phoned, clearing their way through customs. They owed Helmut Mueller again.
Once aboard the G6, Dirk settled next to Meg. He reached for her hand and held on tight, and Meg snuggled against him. She fell asleep on his shoulder before the jet surged up off the tarmac.