Deadly Echoes (38 page)

She turned and found that Buck had opened the hatch on one of the enclosed lifeboats. She only had seconds. Buck pushed Janie into the fully enclosed hull, reached out and took Lauren's hand just as she felt herself being pulled away as the bow rose skyward. Lauren kicked and pushed, praying that Buck wouldn't let go. If he did, in a matter of seconds, she'd be swept over the railing and off the stern of the ship to plummet sixty feet into the icy ocean. She reached out with her free hand and clutched the opening as Buck grabbed the back of her waterlogged coat, and they both tumbled inside the boat. Lauren lay on the floor next to Janie, coughing up water, knowing her shoulder was probably separated.

Buck slammed the hatch shut just as the sound of tearing steel rose above the roar of the water. Then he was thrown hard into the side as the forward davit ripped free, and the hull of the tiny boat slammed against the steel of the ship.

“Everyone hold on to something!” Buck threw himself on top of Janie and gathered Lauren in close.

Lauren clung to Buck, who in turn protected Janie. The noise was deafening as the full force of the wave hit, and Lauren felt the G forces press her against the floor as the lifeboat began to tumble wildly inside the hundred-foot wave.

The three of them were slammed repeatedly against the rigid hull of the boat. All Lauren could think about was the Coast Guard seaman who explained to her that the lifeboat could survive in any sea state. Her tortured shoulder felt like it was on fire as the boat
rolled over and over in the rushing water. She wondered what it would feel like if the hull failed and they were flung into the ocean.

Caught in another onslaught of tumbling, Buck lost his leverage, letting Lauren slide away from him. Her legs whipped around, and she hit something hard with her head before Buck once again gathered her close. She felt the small boat shoot up and down, bobbing in the remainder of the wave until it slowly righted itself as the tsunami raced past.

Curled up on the floor of the lifeboat, Lauren felt something warm trickle down her scalp toward her ear. Then her entire torso began to shake from both the freezing cold and the adrenaline surging in her system. She touched her head and her fingers came away covered in blood. She lay next to Janie and could see that her heart was beating through a vein in her neck. Buck was conscious; he, too, was bloodied, but they were all still alive.

Buck tried to stand and immediately doubled over, holding his midsection. “That's not good,” he said with a groan.

When Lauren tried to move, her shoulder responded with pain that nearly took her breath away. The portholes were well above where she lay. It seemed the worst was over. They were afloat. She could feel the hull beneath her rock and sway. Favoring her shoulder, and careful not to step on Janie, Lauren managed to get to her feet so she could see out of the porthole.

Not far away, she spotted one of the Coast Guard cutters racing toward them, its sharp bow plowing through the still heaving sea. She staggered to the other side and took in the scene. A quarter mile away was the
North Star,
water streaming off the massive ship, but it was afloat and looked to be in one piece. Hard to tell exactly where they'd ended up, but she could see they were still inside the containment booms. Lauren saw that the tugs had hauled in the slack from their lines. Churning froth from the tanker's own massive props told her that Captain Flemming was in the process of bringing his ship to a stop.

“What do you see?” Buck asked.

“There's a cutter bearing down on us. The tanker's floating in
one piece. It might have worked after all,” Lauren said as she moved down and sat next to him. “How are you doing?”

“Busted ribs,” Buck groaned, “and my leg is messed up.”

“The Coast Guard will be here shortly. Janie's out of it, but she's alive,” Lauren said through chattering teeth.

“You're hypothermic. Take off your wet coat.”

“I can't, my shoulder won't move.”

“You're bleeding.”

“We all are, but we're alive,” Lauren used her good hand to reach out and cradle Buck's face. “I don't know how you managed to get me inside this boat, but you did. Thank you.”

Buck took Lauren's hand into his and they entwined fingers. She heard the beating sound of a helicopter overhead, but neither of them made an effort to move. They sat, spent, wounded, safe in the closeness of the moment, a bond of survival that only people who'd been there could ever know. They waited in silence for the rescue swimmer to open the hatch from the outside.

“The
da Vinci,”
Donovan said the words like an electric shock had passed through him. He raced to John's desk. His hands shook as he brought up the secure website and typed in the password that would allow him to tap into the real-time satellite feed being streamed from the
da Vinci.
William stood at his side as the system went through the protocols and finally displayed a small video image.

Donovan expanded it to full size and realized that they were looking through the spinning rotor blades of a Coast Guard Jay-hawk helicopter hovering over a blaze-orange lifeboat. The top hatch was open and they were easing someone out into the basket. Janie. She had on a neck brace, an inflatable cast on her left arm and bandages on her head, but she was conscious and moving. She was hoisted up, and as soon as she was aboard, the basket was lowered again. A mane of auburn hair popped through the hatch, and an involuntary gasp escaped Donovan's chest. His eyes clouded with tears. Lauren was alive, though her shoulder was wrapped, pinning her right arm to her torso. As soon as she was away, the process was repeated. This time Buck emerged, his leg was in a cast, and through the high-resolution capability of the optics, Donovan could see he was in great pain.

The warble of multiple sirens grew closer and then stopped as the police arrived outside. Moments later, officers with their guns drawn charged into the room.

Escorted out of the den by the arriving police, Donovan was placed in the dining room, one of the few rooms downstairs that didn't contain a body. When the paramedics arrived, a quick check
confirmed five dead. As a precaution, William was loaded on a stretcher, headed to the hospital for a full evaluation. A paramedic bandaged Donovan's bloody hand while a detective named Gonzales began taking Donovan's statement.

“Who's in charge here?” a man in a suit asked as he walked into the room.

“I'm Detective Gonzales, Orange County sheriff's office. Who are you?”

“I'm FBI Special Agent Christopher Hudson. This crime scene is now under federal jurisdiction. Detective, I'll need to ask you and your men to assemble outside,” Hudson said. Then he spotted Donovan. “You get around.”

“I could say the same about you. How come you're here?”

“I'm working with the task force we set up to find these people.”

“Wait a minute,” Gonzales held up his hands. “You can't walk into my crime scene and start shooting the shit with an eyewitness. I'm going to need to see a badge and verify this with my bosses.”

“I understand,” Hudson handed Gonzales his credentials. “We'll get all this squared away outside. Let's let my crime-scene people do their job.”

“Can I have my phone?” Donovan asked. “Oh, and by the way, Amanda Sullivan is on her way over. I've promised her an in-depth interview.”

Hudson turned to Gonzales. “Let's make Mr. Nash comfortable. He's not a federal suspect at this time, so I think we could return his phone.”

“Hayes!” Gonzales called out to another detective. “FBI's taking over. Get all the men outside and someone bring me Nash's phone.”

“You've seen what happened in there?” Donovan asked Hudson.

“Just briefly, I also managed to speak with Mr. VanGelder as they were putting him in an ambulance. He gave me the quick-and-dirty version of what happened. You're a lucky man.”

“How'd you get here so fast?” Donovan asked.

“You met Agent Martinson in Alaska? She uncovered evidence that led us to believe the suspects chartered a jet out of Anchorage to come here. We've been trying to track their movements ever since. When the call came in for a possible shooting at the Stratton estate, I was already at John Wayne Airport. I'm just the first, there are a lot more agents on their way, I promise.”

“What about the other hijackers who were aboard the
North Star?
Have you found them?”

“FBI agents in Anchorage found the abandoned helicopter they used to escape from the tanker. There were five bodies aboard. They'd all been shot. One was killed by multiple gunshots, probably from your chief of security as they departed the tanker. The others were shot at point-blank range. According to the footage taken by your plane, there were still two people unaccounted for, my guess is the two people lying dead in there cleaned house before they left Alaska.”

“You're saying it's over? All the people are accounted for?”

“It's too soon to say for certain, but every person captured on film in Hawaii or video in Alaska is in a body bag.” Hudson said. “I do have to ask. Why go for media coverage now? From what I saw in Hawaii, you were dead set against giving any kind of statement.”

“I'm trying to save Eco-Watch from what those bastards did to us. They used the media, so I will too, and I have better sources as well as the luxury of the last word.”

“The woman in the hall, she's the one you saved in Alaska.”

“She saved William. Hell, she saved everyone.” Donovan could feel his throat constrict and tears begin to form. “I'd be very grateful if one day you'd explain to me how she got all the way from an emergency room in Anchorage to that doorway, in time to kill a professional assassin.”

“I can do that,” Hudson answered.

“Thank you,” Donovan said as Hayes opened an evidence bag and handed him the phone. Donovan turned it on. “Now, if you'll excuse me I need to make some calls.”

“Take it outside, but don't leave the premises. Someone will take your statement, then you and I need to talk.”

Donovan did as he was told. As he walked, he dialed Stephanie.

“Donovan, is it you?” Stephanie asked.

“It's me, it's over. William is okay. They took him to the hospital as a precaution, but he'll be fine.”

“What about Garrick?”

“Dead.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Probably not,” Donovan answered truthfully, though it had nothing to do with Garrick. He had pushed himself from paralyzing grief until he was now running on adrenaline and rage. Later, when both were spent, he would start paying the price for all that had happened in the last few days. In the background, he heard the unmistakable announcement that a commercial flight was boarding. “You're at an airport. Where are you taking my daughter?”

“Not on an unsecured line,” Stephanie replied. “This was where I was headed when we last spoke. It's part of an escape plan Lauren and I had in place. We're boarding, I need to go.”

“You don't have to run. It's over,” Donovan said.

“I just spoke to Lauren. She called me from the back of a Coast Guard helicopter. I brought her up to speed on what was happening.”

“So all she knows is that Garrick is holding William hostage, and I'm on my way to deal with the situation.”

“I'm sorry, that's all I knew at the time. I have to respect her wishes.”

Donovan closed his eyes and took a deep breath while he considered the implications. He'd wanted to be the one to explain the situation to Lauren, but that was no longer an option. He didn't blame Stephanie. He'd only wished it had gone differently. “How did she sound?”

“She's tired, hurt, and more than a little scared. Donovan, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll call you later.”

Donovan heard the beep from his phone that alerted him to an incoming call. A quick check told him the number was blocked. “I have another call. I'm glad you were here, Stephanie.”

“You'd be there for me.”

Donovan jumped to the other call and immediately heard the muffled sound of a helicopter's rotor blades. “Lauren, is that you?”

“Can you hear me?” Lauren asked.

“I can hear you. I saw what happened. How bad is everyone hurt?”

“First things first. Stephanie told me that William had been taken hostage, that you were in Los Angeles. Is William okay?”

“He's fine. It's over,” Donovan glanced around to make sure no one could hear him. “Garrick and Nikolett are dead. Call Stephanie and tell her not to leave.”

“Are you crazy?” Lauren replied. “Are they all dead, every single last one? Can you guarantee me that all the people who attacked Eco-Watch are dead?”

Donovan felt himself deflate under Lauren's blistering tirade, made even worse by the fact that she was right. “No, there are no guarantees, but the risk is negligible.”

“Not good enough.”

“Look, Stephanie and Abigail and I can fly up to Anchorage in the morning. We can sort through all of this tomorrow.”

“Donovan, I can't. I won't.” Lauren paused as if searching for the right words. “Once again you deserted me, and I had to clean up your mess. Nothing's changed. I was almost killed today, I'm hurt, I'm upset, and I can't see you now or anytime soon.”

Donovan lowered his head in defeat. She wasn't wrong and her anger wasn't misplaced. Arguing with her now would be pointless. A judicious retreat might at least keep things from getting worse. “I understand.”

“Is Erica with you? Did you find her?”

“She was the one who warned William, allowing Stephanie and Abigail to escape. She showed up in Los Angeles on her own. She saved us.”

“So she's there? That's just perfect. I don't know what kind of arrangement you made with her, but here's the one I'm making. Tell her I have her jump drive with the files she took from Germany. If she so much as breathes a word about your past, or in any other way jeopardizes my daughter's present or future well-being, I'll open the files and then turn them over to the agency that'll do her the most harm.”