In the Heart of the Wind Book 1 in the WindTorn Trilogy (41 page)

“Must be wondering what the hell happened.” He heard one of the EMT’s chuckle.

“Can’t you make this piece of shit go any faster?” Tremayne snarled.

“We’ll catch them, Mr. Tremayne. Don’t you worry,” the ambulance driver yelled back at him. “I’ve got them in sight.”

Mary Bernice Merrill
glanced in her side mirror with anxious eyes to watch the flashing roof lights of the rapidly-approaching ambulance. She looked at the speedometer and pressed her foot harder on the accelerator, praying with all her might she could keep from hydroplaning on the slick Louisiana highway.

By her calculations, she was within four miles of her target, and she knew the rest of the team would be waiting.

She picked up the mike of her CB radio. “Break One-Seven. This is the Snowbird coming at you out of the rain.”

“How ya doin’, Snowbird?” a strange voice came back to her.

“I’m riding four-by-four, good buddy,” she shot back. “And feeling like singing a little song for my Ramblin’ man out there.”

“You can sing for me any time you want, little darlin’,” the stranger told her. “Do you know any Reba McEntyre, sweetness?”

“Hey, Snowbird? How you readin’ me? This here’s your gamblin’, Ramblin’ Hawk watching out for his little doll. How about crooning for me, babe?”

Mary Bernice breathed a sigh of relief. She had Dick Warrington on the line. She put up her hand and rapped on the glass partition between her and the men in back.

“We’re about three miles from the cut off, Doc.”

Doc Remington let out a long sigh. “Chirp at him, Mary Liz, until you’re down to two, then start singing.”

Dick Warrington
rolled down his window as Jake Mueller ran toward them. “They’re almost here, Jake. Open her up!”

Jake nodded and ran back through the pouring rain, shouting for Mel Vanderwoode. Mel jumped out of the cab of the semi and joined Jake at the back of the trailer.

“Here’s a little ditty I remembered you like, Ramblin’,” Mary Bernice said into her mike. “Anybody who wants to can sing along.”

“She’s got ‘em
right on her ass,” Thais growled to the female trooper beside him. “We’re gonna crank this baby up!” He started the car, pulled on his lights, flashed his high beams four times, saw the lights of the station wagon parked on the other side of the road come on and answer the signal, heard the blare of a siren, and watched as the vehicle directly in front of him begin to roll forward, its lights off. He prayed no other cars would come past them any time soon.

Mary Bernice could
see the ambulance behind her gaining. She glanced nervously at her side mirror, looked ahead of her, caught the sweep of chrome bumper up ahead on both sides of the two-lane road, and she began to sing into the mike.

Edna Mae and
Del were sitting at the rest stop, peering anxiously through the driving rain. Car after car had pulled into the parking lot, but none of them was the car they were looking for. Feeling conspicuous in the limo, seeing people eyeing them strangely as the travelers jumped out of their cars to venture into the restrooms, even knowing no one could see that well into the front seat, Del felt as though he were slowly being suffocated in the limo’s confines.

“Miss Edna?”

Edna Mae jumped. She looked up into the rear view mirror.

“Should I turn on the CB and see what’s happening?”

“I suppose so. I feel like I’m sitting in a red ant bed as it is!”

Del turned on the engine, flipped on the CB and heard Mary Bernice’s husky voice. He smiled. “That woman never could sing worth a toot.”

Andrew Tremayne
could see the watery flashes of light from the ambulance they were trying to catch. He frowned as the lights abruptly disappeared as the vehicle crested a long, rolling hill. His nails were digging into his palms, his palms sweating, and his jaw clamped so tightly he was getting an earache.

“
She’ll be coming
‘round the mountain. She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain...” Mary Bernice sang. Her hand began to lower the CB mike as she sang the third line to the verse.

“There she is
,” Thais shouted as the ambulance came over the hill behind him. He eased his foot down on the accelerator and pulled onto the outside lane of the interstate, glancing out of the corner of his eye as the station wagon pulled into the inside lane and kept pace with him.

“He’s moving,” the female trooper said in a quiet voice and watched as the vehicle in front of them, its lights still off, pulled out onto the interstate and began to pick up some speed.

Mary Bernice sighted
the off ramp, glanced briefly ahead to the two sets of tail lights moving eastward on the interstate. She dropped the CB mike and reached for the switch that would shut off the emergency flashers. Her fingers were damp with sweat.

She eased the ambulance onto the ramp.

“...when she comes,” she said.

Thais smiled as
three things happened at the same moment.

First, the emergency flashers, then the headlights of Mary Bernice’s ambulance died and the vehicle dropped out of sight on the off ramp.

Second, the vehicle ahead of him on the interstate, another ambulance, identical to the one Mary Bernice was driving, this one driven by Galen Whitney, turned on both its headlights and emergency flashers, and sped down the highway like a bat out of torment.

Third, the ambulance that had been following Mary Bernice came over the hill toward him at breakneck speed, but found itself blocked by the new vehicles running parallel to one another in the two lanes.

A blast of the ambulance’s siren sounded its warning and Thais turned to grin at the woman beside him, heard her hoot, then pulled his car to the side of the road to let the Tremayne ambulance pass. He saw the station wagon pull over into the right lane behind the ambulance.

“Ti...i...i...ime is on our si...ide,” he heard the DEA agent in the wagon singing from the CB and he answered, “Yes, it is!”

The ramp way
was dark as sin as Mary Bernice rolled slowly up it with her lights off. She’d seen the other ambulance flash by the ramp on its way down the hill, knew she’d fooled its driver, then heard the sweet tenor voice singing the ‘all clear.’ She pulled on the headlights and, ahead of her, saw the octagonal red glow of a stop sign.

“Open her up
,” Jake yelled as he saw the sweep of headlights jutting out of the dark rainy night.

Dick was out
of the driver’s seat of his vehicle, at its side door as the arc of the ambulance’s headlights swept across the windshield of his motor home. He heard it pass and could see the headlights playing over the trees behind him on the road as it turned and came back toward the motor home.

“Lights on, Jenny,” he called and blinked as the motor home’s lights lit the interior of the vehicle.

Doc Remington gave
Cobb his instructions and Kyle already knew what to do. As soon as the ambulance stopped behind the motor home, both he and Cobb were opening the ambulance’s back door, Kyle carrying an unconscious Gabe in his arms with Cobb carrying the IV bottle. As he stepped to the opened door of the ambulance, Kyle looked at Mel Vanderwoode.

“Be careful with him,” he said as he lowered Gabe into Mel’s waiting arms.

“Hurry up,” Doc yelled. “Get him inside before he gets soaked!”

Mary Bernice watched
Mel and Cobb disappear around the side of the motor home and pressed down her foot, heading for the car ramp by which Jake was standing. She drew in a deep, nervous breath, then drove the ambulance onto the ramp and into the trailer. Even before the engine stopped sputtering, she was out of the ambulance’s cab and running for the double doors. Her feet skidded down the slippery ramp and she began cartwheeling, and would have fallen had Jake not rushed forward to break her fall. She slid against him with enough force to stagger the old man.

“Easy does it, Mary Liz,” he said with a chuckle. “I ain’t as strong as I use to be, girl!”

Mary Bernice laughed as she helped him slam shut and bolt the trailer’s doors.

Inside the motor
home, Mel laid Gabe on the pull-out bed and stepped back as quickly as he could, brushing past Kyle as that man entered.

“See you!” Mel told them and rushed for the cab of his semi. He passed Mary Bernice, gave her a wet grin and heard her tell him to drive careful as she hopped up the steps of the motor home and the door slammed shut.

Even before he had the semi in gear and rolling, the motor home, now driven by Mary Bernice, had passed him and was heading for the entrance ramp to the interstate.

He looked at Jake once more in the passenger seat of the semi and grinned.

“That ran about as smooth as a colicky baby’s shit, wouldn’t you say?” Jake asked.

Galen Whitney
picked up the CB mike and started calling for the Ramblin’ Hawk. “How’s it goin’ there, little buddy?”

“The Eagle has landed,” Mary Bernice told him.

Galen glanced in his side mirror and watched the emergency flashers of the Tremayne ambulance coming fast toward them.

“How much further to the cut off, Carol?” he asked Doc Remington’s wife.

Carol Remington turned on her map light and surveyed the mimeographed sheet of rendezvous points. She looked over at Galen. “We should be coming up on it in about four or five minutes. Can you hold him off that long?”

“Longer, if I have to.” He eased the straining speedometer over the 110 mark.

Glancing back through the partition, Carol smiled at Ellen Vittetoe. “How you doing back there, lady?”

“I feel like it could be any minute now.”

Carol laughed.

Jenny Warrington
was busy taking Gabe’s blood pressure. Her husband, Dick, was preparing another injection as Doc listened through his stethoscope to the irregular rhythm of Gabe’s heart.

“He’s gonna be all right, isn’t he?” Kyle asked.

Cobb touched Kyle’s arm. “Don’t bother them, Mr. Vittetoe. They’re doing all they can.”

Andrew Tremayne
swore as he watched the ambulance ahead of them gaining ground. If it hadn’t been for those two local yokels getting in their way, they’d have caught the other ambulance by now and forced it off the damned road. He was fuming, his nostrils flaring. He wished he had his hands on James right then. He’d make the little son-of-a-bitch pay for every moment of aggravation he had caused.

“You just wait, James,” he seethed. “You’re going to wish you’d never been born.”

“He’s more’n likely kicked the bucket by now,” Beecher said. “I gave him enough juice to fry him up right.”

Andrew turned his angry glare to the orderly. “I can’t believe my father would order such a thing.” He narrowed his eyes. “If I find out you lied...”

“I’m Mr. Tremayne’s man,” Beecher defended. “I’ve been his man a long time. I do what he tells me, when he tells me!” There was an ugly glint in the big man’s eyes as he stared at Andrew.

Andrew looked away, hating the bastard beside him, thinking of ways to get rid of him when the time came.

He knew he’d enjoy it.

Dr. Bruce Lassiter
picked up his telephone. “How may I help you, Dr. Tremayne?”

Patrick Tremayne heard the strained quality in Lassiter’s voice. He knew to be careful. Very careful.

“I was just checking up on my brother, Dr. Lassiter. Has there been any change in his condition?”

“I don’t guess you heard then.”

A cold shiver ran down Patrick’s spine. His hand tensed around the receiver. “Heard, what?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Dr. Tremayne, but it seems your brother was abducted this evening. I am terribly sorry. I was not in the clinic when it happened.”

The cold shiver warmed. “Abducted by whom?” Patrick asked, letting anger and disbelief enter his tone.

“We don’t know really. One of my patients, a Mr. David Boudreaux, or rather someone claiming to be him, since I’ve now found out the real David Boudreaux is in a clinic in France, was being transferred by his mother this evening and your brother seems to have disappeared with this impostor. Your brother, Mr. Andrew, arrived to relieve us of James and it was then we found James was not in the clinic.”

“And what did Andrew say? Does he have any idea who could be responsible for this?” Patrick asked. He was aware he was sweating and that the cold shiver was now a hot flash of relief down his backbone.

“Mr. Tremayne believes it could be someone from out west who somehow found out where your brother was being kept. He’s gone after them, although they did have a rather substantial lead due to a malfunction with our gate that kept your brother outside the grounds for nearly ten minutes. Ironically, he saw the ambulance that no doubt contained your brother pass him.” Lassiter sighed. “I’m so terribly sorry this has happened, but what can I do?”