High Seduction (18 page)

“There's a pocketknife inside my coat. Right inside breast pocket.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”

“They weren't concerned about frisking me, just in getting here.”

She bit the tip of her glove and pulled it off, unzipping his coat and slipping her hand inside to find the blade. “I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anything to do that wasn't going to put you guys in danger.”

“There was nothing you could do. We need to get out of here, though, because once we're not needed . . .”

He didn't want to bring back images of the pilot. Deadweight, Ken had said.

At what point did he and Erin become deadweight?

“You did good,” he assured her. “And they had you refuel the chopper—so maybe they still need you to fly them somewhere.”

Erin lowered her voice. “I was considering a spinout. I thought about stalling. I thought about taking us straight to a manned airport—and I didn't do any of them because I was afraid—”

“For good reason.” He pulled the last of the tape from his wrists and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. “Oh God, Erin, I did the same mental wrangling, and there was no solution. If you'd done any of those things we might all be dead right now.”

Erin slipped her hands up to his chest and pushed him back slightly. “Do up your coat. How are your hands? It's cold, and if we're going to have a chance to get away, we need to be as warm as possible before we go out there again.”

Both of them were deliberately ignoring the impossibility of getting Matt out from right under the kidnappers' noses.

“Look around in here, see if there's anything that can help us.” Tim tucked things back into place, slipping his knife into his main right pocket.

She had her coat open and was placing the strips of duct tape she'd cut off him onto her clothes. “Just in case we need them later,” she explained. “And I know it's no use right here, but there's a gun in the chopper.”

Well, now. “You knew about that, did you?”

Erin closed her jacket while she answered. “Of course I knew. Marcus and I had a bit of a fight over it initially, but in the end he agreed it was a good idea.”

For the first time in a while Tim actually felt like smiling. “I wasn't talking about you having a gun. I was talking about the one I have hidden in my medical supplies.”

“You're shitting me.”

“Nope.”

She snuck under his arm briefly, putting their heads close together. “I knew I liked you. You're devious.”

“So are you. We fit well together.”

Their smiles faded, though, as the reality of their situation grew clearer again. “Look around, right?” she asked.

There wasn't much there. A couple of smaller old barrels. A bunch of rags. Tim tried the door, but for a run-down old shed, the thing barely budged, even when he slammed his shoulder into it. There was nothing that could get them out. “Great. Well, we can burn the place down around our heads if we want to.”

“Let's save that one for tomorrow,” Erin suggested.

He tipped the empty canisters over and created a seat of a kind. The rags became a layer of cushioning that he sat on, then he tapped his lap. “Come, conserve body heat.”

She slipped in next to him and curled up tight. They tucked their hands between their bodies and tilted their heads down, a small bundle of humanity keeping as much of their body heat in as possible.

“So. Any plans?” she asked.

“They need you to fly them somewhere else. That's the only reason I can think of for the refueling.” Tim made sure they were speaking softly enough to not be overheard even if someone stood right outside the shed. “Sounds as if they're treating Matt a little better—looking for the extra cash.”

“I hope he's okay.” There was real fear in her voice.

“I hope so, too, but he's a smart guy, and he does have the money if it comes to that. But mostly we're trying to buy time for someone to help us.”

“Which is not going to happen very quickly, Tim.” She sighed. “I never got out a distress call—I was too scared to try anything. That means the chopper not showing up is our only warning to anyone. Which means no one will even be out looking until tomorrow.”

“Which is why I think your idea of the nearest airport is a good one. Doesn't matter if Matt and I are lashed to chairs. Go in low, out of air traffic range but high enough to get on radar. You set down on the edge of a runway, and our kidnappers will have nowhere to go but through the security that will show up.”

“There's a ton wrong with that, though. Even with security blocking them, they could hole up in the chopper. They could shoot you. They could shoot Matt. What the hell are they running from, anyway?”

“I thought smugglers first, but they said they were out of Anchorage and headed to Seattle. There were no drugs on the plane, and they barely took anything with them when we left.”

“Bullshit on them being out of Anchorage.” Erin's breath brushed his neck, a steamy stroke that warmed him deeply. “The pilot had to have registered the flight, but there was no way they would have been passing over the mountain they were when they went down. Anchorage to Seattle is an all-coastal route, and we were inland far too much, even changing direction to head toward the new coordinates once they were in the air.”

“Interesting.” Tim pulled his arms free to rub her back slowly. “Possible starting points?”

“Major airports? Offhand, only Whitehorse comes to mind. Yellowknife, maybe—the route would make sense if the pilot was trying to avoid cutting over any main air traffic routes, staying off the radar. Private airstrips could be anything between those two points.” Erin sighed. “I wonder if he had the heart attack because of being hijacked.”

He soothed her the best he could. “Don't. We can't change it, and we're not going to focus on that now. Now we're all about getting out of here in one piece.”

“Okay. Landing at a major airport—safer for civilians than a shopping mall or main highway.”

“They can't take off and hide as easily, either,” Tim pointed out. “But if a highway is all you get, take it.”

“They can still shoot you. I don't think they have much respect for life at this point.”

He agreed, but that wasn't what she needed to hear. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “I wish this hadn't happened. I wish to God we were back home and safe. But we will get through this. We'll keep our eyes and ears open, and the next chance we get, we're going to do what we can to get out of here.”

She slipped her hand from her glove and cupped his face, her palm warm against his cheek. “We'll do what we can.”

CHAPTER
19

Erin fell into an uneasy doze, relaxation coming in spite of her fears. There was nothing to do in the small space, no room to move around, and the tight position she and Tim ended up in grew warm enough that she'd closed her eyes and actually slept. The darkness around them felt like a tangible thing, dimming sounds, blurring her mind. No matter how hard she looked she couldn't see anything, and the sensation of total blindness was strange.

“Erin. Someone is coming.” Tim pushed her upright gently. “There's been not a lot of noise for about an hour, but I just heard something from toward the cabin. Sounded like a bit of a scuffle.”

She slipped to her feet and helped him up, the two of them wiggling slightly, moving their feet in an attempt to get the blood flowing again. “How late is it?”

“About ten. Be ready.”

Her ears ached from listening. Was that a footstep? The wind? All the clues seemed muffled.

“You awake?” A deep voice, not Ken.

“We are. What do you want, Red?” Tim asked.

No sound for a moment. “We need to get out of here. If I let you free, will you drop me off somewhere safe? I have a gun, and I will use it if I have to, but—”

“Where are your friends?” Tim snapped. “Why should we trust you?”

“They're in the cabin. I tied them up with that duct tape we used on you. I'm opening the door, and I have the gun. We need to move now, though.”

“He's telling the truth.” Matt's voice.

Shit.
“Matt? You okay?”

“Yes, so hurry up.”

Erin raised her voice. “Let us out.”

The door swung open a bare inch. Tim pushed it open all the way, revealing the big man with, as promised, a gun pointed at them. Matt stood a little ways away, his hands still taped in front of him, but a grin on his face shining in the faint line.

They were still in deep shit, but the sight of Tim's friend eased a small spot of panic. “Good to see you, Matt.”

Red shook the gun. “Talk later, we have to leave.”

“Point that thing some other direction,” Erin snapped. “I'm sick of people sticking guns in my face when they want my help.”

Tim cleared his throat, but she was too pissed to care.

Red motioned with his head to the chopper. “I tied them up, but if they get free, we're in trouble. The chopper is ready to go, right?”

They were headed toward the chopper, her feet stinging as blood rushed back into them. “It'll take me five minutes to get off the ground. Where do you want to go?”

“Edge of the nearest small town is good. Just give me a way to get away from them, and I promise not to hurt any of you.”

They were running now, racing for freedom. Erin pulled herself in and started the routine to get the bird off the ground.

Matt was right behind her. “Anything I need to do?” he asked.

“Belt yourself in, put on a headset so you can hear what's going on. Then shut up.”

He took the closest seat to hers and followed orders. She was too busy to regret snapping at him.

Behind her, Tim moved a little slower, talking to their supposed rescuer, who still held the gun trained on his back. “You're going to be in trouble with your partners for letting us go.”

“They weren't my partners. I was hired, like the pilot. There was no need to kill him,” Red said.

“Ahh.” Tim paused. “Figured out you were probably next?”

“Yeah. If they killed him, they have no reason to keep me around, either, not once they get where they're going.” Red spoke louder as the noise level rose. “Please, don't use the radio. Don't turn me in.”

“Right now you're our best friend, Red.” Erin pulled a headset from the dash and held it in the air. “I won't call the authorities, but if you put one of these on, it will save all of us our hearing. Tim can show you how it works. Liftoff in two minutes.”

Then she concentrated on making the final preparations.

The normal actions of getting the chopper ready soothed her. Calmed the panic flipping through her veins as the reality of what could have happened flicked like trailer shots through her brain.

The unexpected freedom was nearly giddy-making.

Bullshit on not calling in details, although she'd wait until they were actually off the ground. On this one she agreed with Red—the farther they were from the men with the happy trigger fingers, the better.

The radio flicked in her headset, Tim's voice coming in. “Push this button to talk. Channel three, okay?”

“Got it.” Red spoke softly. “Hurry.”

Tim settled into the second seat, pulling the seat harness across his chest and slipping on the headset. “Nearly ready.”

Light flashed briefly from the left, and Erin swore. “What's that?”

“Company. Take off now, Erin,” Tim shouted. “Shit. Shit,
shit
.”

She pulled them skyward, rotating the chopper as she lifted, attempting to get out of range as quickly as possible.

Curses rang from beside her. “They're shooting at us. Leave, now.”

Erin throttled forward, sensing the bullet's contact with the chopper body more than hearing it. The faint light pouring from the cabin door showed two bodies standing in the beam, hands raised, as she headed over the treetops and away from their captors.

She took a deep breath, then eyed the control panel. “Nothing major showing up as hit so far.”

“How long to somewhere to put Red down?” Tim asked. “It's an emergency.”

Those were the prearranged code words Tim had established before they'd started the rescue—Erin already knew what he had in mind. “Let me check the map.” She clicked channels to number one to speak privately to Tim. “Really put him down?”

Tim answered immediately. “Yes.”

Dammit. She hadn't expected that response, but she switched back to the open channel immediately before their passenger knew she'd been gone. “Outside a town, right, Red?”

“Anywhere I can get a ride.”

“They'll be after you,” Tim warned. “We'll tell the police where Ken and John are, and hopefully they're caught, but if they get away, will those two know how to track you down?”

“They don't know much about me. I was hired to transport a bag to them. Then they asked if I wanted to do one more job. I was supposed to be a bodyguard. They didn't say anything about shooting anyone.”

“Where did you fly out of?” Tim asked. “Will they be able to track you by going back there?”

No answer.

“Hey, you don't have to tell me. Was just curious, but don't worry about it.” Tim turned and faced forward as Erin mentally suggested he shut up and leave this one alone. “What's the nearest point you can do a touchdown, Erin?”

She was having a harder time than usual keeping things in a straightforward direction. “There's a town about fifteen minutes for us, hours by road for Ken and John in case they had a vehicle up at the cabin. Hang on, though, I'm having issues here.”

Tim sat upright. “What kind of issues?”

“They shot something, Tim. I'm not sure what, but I'm losing control of my tail rotor in spurts.”

“That's not good?” Red asked.

“Not good at all,” Erin confirmed. “I can land, but it might get bumpy before then. Strap yourselves in, guys, I'll see what I can do.”

* * *

Tim glanced at their passenger. “You know what to do?”

The man was scrambling with the chest harness, twisting it the opposite direction to what needed to happen. “No.”

“Do you want some help?” Tim offered.

Red glanced up, and now instead of just seeing the massive size of the man, Tim spotted how young he was. “Yes.”

Tim was out of his seat when they lost altitude. Just a bump, but enough to drag a shout from all three of them; him, Matt, and Red.

“Sorry, guys. Between whatever the shot busted up out there and the changing temperatures, I don't know how steady this flight is going to be,” Erin warned.

“You want to take us down the soonest possible?” Tim suggested as he made his way back to Red, clutching seatbacks and tie-downs as he moved in case there was another unexpected jolt.

“I want us down near civilization,” Erin muttered. “I've had enough of backcountry landing strips for one day, thanks.”

“Don't be too picky,” Matt ventured.

Tim pushed Red back into his seat so he could straighten the harness webbing. “I agree with Matt. What if you lose pieces of the chopper altogether?”

“Then we'll land sooner than anyone expects,” Erin taunted. “Stop fussing, old man, I know how to fly her, even if she's having a bad day.”

Tim found a thread of amusement in the middle of his stress. He clicked the final straps together on their passenger, glancing up at Red's face. “Notice she's talking to the plane like it's alive? See what I have to deal with all the time?”

The man didn't smile, but he didn't frown, either.

Tim gestured to the gun in Red's hands. “Why don't you put that away? If the trip does get rough, the last thing any of us needs are holes in vital places. Those kind of concerns make it tough to concentrate.”

Then he stepped away, slipping into one of the side seats and buckling himself in.

The fact that his medical backpack rested in the seat to his left was a big part of his choice of seating.

He strapped himself down. “Erin, did you put out a call yet?”

“No. I was waiting until we drop off Red.”

Shit. He glanced over at the young man. The gun was thankfully no longer out in plain sight. “Your call here, Red. The sooner Erin gets a location to the authorities, the sooner the guys might get caught.”

“But . . .” He frowned. “Yeah, I see that. Can you not tell them about me?”

“No problem,” Erin cut in. “I'm not going to do a ton of talking, only give them the coordinates of the cabin. The police will want to talk to us after we land, but you can be gone by then.”

Nice. Tim nodded reassuringly along with Erin's words.

Red paused, then gave his approval. “Do it.”

“Thanks, Red. I have to change to a different channel, but we should be down in a few minutes.”

Tim had his backpack turned toward him, the thin hidden zipper along the bottom edge opening easily and allowing him to slip his hand in and make sure what he needed was ready. “Good job, Red. When we touch down, you head wherever you want, and we won't even watch you go. We'll take off and hit the closest airfield for the rest. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“And just a suggestion?” Tim made a face. “Check out your prospective customers a little more carefully.”

Red's answer was lost in the sudden change of volume outside the chopper, and a huge drop in altitude.

Tim instinctively clutched his chest harness. “Erin?”

“Working . . .” Her words died off into an unintelligible mixture of grunts and vicious complaints.

“That sounds more like swearing to me,” he responded. “Tell me what's happening.”

“Nothing good.”

Then she ignored him, the chopper bouncing hard from side to side.

“Hold on tight, Red. This could get bumpy.” Tim followed his own advice, making sure he had his pack strapped in as well. He didn't need a heavy weight slamming into him unannounced at any time.

Under them lights were appearing more frequently. “We're into busier airspace, Erin,” he warned.

“Really. I wondered what all those shiny things were. Now shut up, and let me do my job.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Red. “She loves me, really she does.”

“Oh
shit
, hold on.”

Even her warning wasn't enough. It was like being back on a cheesy ride at the fair. The ones that spin in a circle, throwing you to the outside of the seat with a sudden jerk before crushing the inside person into the poor sod on the outside edge. Tim was pushed back in his seat, only the left side of his harness webbing preventing him from being shoved any farther. A rapid rotation followed—eerie and hard to handle in the daylight when there were visual cues to help pull his equilibrium back to normal. Now in the mostly dark, it was a Disney ride gone evil. No idea when it would end, or how it would end, or at least that had to be what Red was thinking.

“Make it stop now,” the man begged.

“My
God
.” The words shook free from Matt, taut and fear-filled. “Erin?”

“Lost the tail rotor,” Erin snapped. “Trying . . . I think . . . Just wait.”

She swore again before cutting off the radio, leaving him, Matt, and Red alone on the line.

“She's good,” Tim reassured the others, even as he clutched his thighs and concentrated on breathing through the rising nausea that was inevitable with the spin. He'd told Marcus long ago he had a cast-iron stomach, but he still had to work to keep in control.