Midnight Jewels (47 page)

"We won't be able to see a tiling," Mercy said quietly. "Even your night vision can't be this good."

Croft went down on one knee beside Isobel and quickly searched the pockets of her jumpsuit. "Luckily for us, Isobel is ever the prepared pilot. She's got a small flashlight on her."

Isobel groaned at that moment and coughed. Croft scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

"I'll carry her and go first. Stay right behind me, Mercy."

"Believe me, I'm not going to be dragging my feet."

"Good."

"Remind me to tell you about the microfilm when we get out of here."

"What microfilm?" He aimed the flashlight down the long, rocky tunnel.

At least there was something he hadn't already figured out, Mercy thought. "Croft, you don't know what a lift it gives me to catch you off balance occasionally."

"What do you mean occasionally? You seem to do it on a regular basis."

"I only do it for your own good," Mercy explained with deep sincerity.

The trip through the upward sloping tunnel was uneventful. He had guessed right, Croft decided as he emerged on a hillside overlooking the estate. Gladstone had provided himself with a reliable escape route. There was always a certain satisfaction when the logical analysis of an opponent's actions proved correct.

The darkness that was waiting outside the tunnel was alive with the leaping flames of fire that were consuming Gladstone's mansion. The roar of the blaze filled the night.

"Good God," Mercy breathed as she emerged beside him and stood gazing down at the inferno that was destroying the house. "I can't believe we were trapped in there just a few minutes ago. How did the fire get so big so fast?"

Croft dumped Isobel carelessly down onto the ground. "He must have used explosives to start it. Did a good job of setting them, too. There won't be anything left in another few hours."

"The dogs," Mercy whispered, suddenly remembering the animals.

"I set them free hours ago."

Isobel stirred and opened her eyes. She coughed wretchedly, trying to clear her lungs of the smoke she had inhaled after Gladstone had left her to die. "I'm the one who did a good job setting the explosives."

Croft glanced at her. "Gladstone has a nice way of showing his appreciation."

Her dark eyes blazed with a bitter fury. "That bastard. He blamed it all on me. He was the one who insisted on getting the book back. If he hadn't been so eager to get hold of it, you would never have found us."

"Don't count on it." The sound of helicopter rotor blades whipping into life brought Croft's attention back to the scene below.

"He's getting away." Mercy was incensed. "He can't do that. We can't let him escape now. Not after everything we've been through because of him."

"He's not going anywhere," Croft said softly.

Isobel raised herself up on one elbow to stare down into the compound. "So that's why he insisted on having me give him flying lessons several months ago. He said it was for safety reasons. I should have known he didn't care about anyone's safety except his own."

"A typical drug trade employer," Croft remarked. "The attitude goes with the territory. Everything and everyone is expendable."

"He has the lives of a cat," Isobel whispered angrily. "He told me once he always survives. He was right."

"Not this time," Croft said quietly. He looked at Mercy. "Stay here with Isobel."

She looked up at him anxiously. "Where are you going?" Even as she asked the question Croft saw the realization dawn in her eyes. "No, wait, Croft. He'll be armed. You can't stop him alone. We'll find him again. He won't be able to hide from you."

He touched her dirt smudged cheek. "He's not going to get away. I'm going to finish it this time. Understand?"

She closed her eyes. When she opened them again her gaze was as clear as ever. "Yes."

"I love you, Mercy."

"I love you. Be careful."

"I will." He turned and moved quickly down the incline. The helicopter was just starting to lift off the ground. Gladstone hadn't seen Croft yet. He was concentrating on his flying.

Croft reached the compound wall and swung himself up onto the top of the stone barricade just as the copter rose a couple of feet, shuddered and suddenly settled back down onto the landing pad.

Gladstone must have just taken a look at the fuel gage and realized there was almost nothing left in the tank, Croft thought in satisfaction. Gladstone would know now that his first escape route had been cut off.

In that moment Gladstone looked through the glass bubble that surrounded him and saw Croft hunkering casually on the wall. The glare of the flames from the house revealed Falconer, who smiled like a dark ghost in silent, predatory anticipation.

Shock and stunned fury turned Gladstone's patrician face into a mask of hatred and fear. Croft dropped lightly down from the top of the wall. He broke into a run, heading for the crippled helicopter.

Gladstone scrambled frantically around inside the cockpit as the rotors whined to a halt. Then he found what he was seeking. He leaped out of the confines of the helicopter clutching a small pistol in both hands. The paper wrapped package containing
Valley
fell to the ground at his feet. He ignored it as he brought the nose of the gun up, aiming at Croft.

But it was too late. Croft was already too close. He put ; out a hand in an almost casual movement that was so fast Gladstone didn't have time to register it. The weapon went flying into the darkness.

"You goddamn bastard," Gladstone screamed. Instinctively he stepped back out of range. "Stay away from me, you son of a bitch. Stay away, damn it! What are you? Some kind of ghost? You're supposed to be dead."

The leaping flames of the fire were reflected in Croft's eyes as he moved toward his victim. He said nothing, closing in on Gladstone with a slow, relentless tread that had a temporarily mesmerizing effect on Gladstone. It was obvious Croft was in no hurry to finish this. This time he would be certain.

From her vantage point on the hillside, Mercy had a clear view of the action. The moment Gladstone had leaped from the helicopter with a gun in his hand she had instinctively started forward. But a broken cry from Isobel jerked her attention back to the other woman.

"It can't end like this," Isobel screamed. "I won't let it!" She was pelting forward down the hill, racing past Mercy and heading for the gate in the wall.

Mercy flew after her. She dashed through the gate a few steps behind Isobel and realized the woman was heading for the helicopter. Against the backdrop of roaring flames Croft and Gladstone were still playing out the deadly game of predator and prey. Both men were oblivious to the women.

Isobel reached into the helicopter and fumbled beneath the seat. Breathing quickly, her muscles propelled by a surge of adrenaline, Mercy reached the machine just in time to see Isobel scrambling back out of the cockpit with a gun in one hand. She had apparently kept it stashed under the pilot's seat.

Mercy's foot struck an object on the ground and she stumbled. As she caught herself she saw the package containing
Valley
. She knew that shape and size. She also remembered the weight of the book. Without stopping to think, aware only of the fact that she needed a weapon to counter Isobel's gun, Mercy reached down and grabbed the heavy package.

"I'll kill him," Isobel was yelling. "I'll kill both of them." She was ignoring Mercy, steadying herself for a shot at one of the two men who were moving slowly toward the wall of fire.

In that moment Mercy couldn't tell if Isobel was aiming at Gladstone or Croft. She couldn't take the chance that it might be Croft.

Mercy swung the book in a violent arc that connected with Isobel's gun arm.

Isobel yelled and the gun fell to the concrete pad. Mercy leaped for it.

"You little bitch!" Isobel was holding her injured arm, her fury and pain clearly revealed in the light of the fire. "I'll kill you. I'll kill—"

Gladstone's scream of rage and terror interrupted the threat, paralyzing both women for an instant. Both Mercy and Isobel swung around just in time to see Gladstone trapped between the fire and Croft. Croft was deliberately closing the gap, giving his victim a hellish choice of fates.

How could either man stand the heat of the flames? Mercy wondered. They were both so close to the fire. She kept the gun clutched tightly in her hand as she watched the awful ritual played out to its final conclusion.

Gladstone was screaming what sounded like gibberish as Croft closed in. But just as Croft was gliding into the final step that would bring Gladstone within reach, his victim succumbed to the hysterical panic that was obviously clawing at him.

"No! No, I won't let you do it. I won't let you do this to
me. You and all the others are trash. Stupid, blundering trash. You're not worthy… There's always a way out. There must be a way out..."

Gladstone turned and ran straight into the flames. Something heavy fell from the roof, an object that was alive with fire. It struck Gladstone just as he crossed the threshold of his once proud home.

Mercy saw Croft start to dart forward. "Croft, no! He's dead. You can't touch him now. It's over." She ran toward him, fearful that his need for vengeance and certainty would carry him forward into the flames.

Croft swung around at the sound of Mercy's voice as if halted by an invisible chain. He stared at her for an instant as she raced toward him. His body was silhouetted by the lethal glare and the heat was washing over him. Then something flickered in his gaze, an expression of longing and unutterable need.

"Mercy!"

"It's over, Croft. It's over." She threw herself into his arms and he caught her close in a savage embrace.

"I know," he whispered hoarsely. "I know." He led her quickly away from the intense heat. , Together they ran back toward the helicopter. Mercy glanced around in amazement.

"Isobel's gone!" she shouted.

"No loss. Let's get out of this compound."

Croft led her through the gate and back up the hillside. There in the cool darkness Croft stood watching for a while, fulfilling his need to be sure this time.

After a moment Mercy asked quietly, "What went wrong with the helicopter?"

"I drained the gas tanks last night before I entered the house. The Jeep doesn't work, either. I didn't want him to have any exits this time."

Mercy touched his hand. "Is it over now?"

He knew what she meant. "It's over. This time they'll find his body in the flames. This time I'll be sure. I saw him go down. He's dead." He paused and then he said quietly, "I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

"To call the authorities. That's what you've wanted to do all along, isn't it?"

"Finally! Shall we start with the sheriff?"

"I was thinking about the nearest fire station. There's so much cleared land around the compound that with any luck
that blaze probably won't be able to spread very far. But there's no sense taking chances."

Mercy stared at him in disbelief. "No sense taking chances? It's a little late to start thinking about that, isn't it? But then, that's one of the things I've always admired about you, Croft. Your sense of timing."

But she was reaching out to catch hold of his hand, threading her fingers securely through his. Croft felt the reassuring energy of her love pouring into him and he drank it into all his senses. It revitalized him, nourished him, comforted him. He needed her, he realized, in ways he had never needed another human being. It was safe to need her because she would always be there for him.

"Are you all right, Croft?"

"Yes," he said. "I am now." Mercy was safe and the last of the screams left from three years before had faded away forever. The old Circle was closed and a new one lay before him.

"What about Isobel?" Mercy asked reluctantly. "She got away."

"I think she's smart enough to keep going." He saw the package containing
Valley
in her hand. "Don't tell me you managed to save that damn book."

Mercy glanced down. "It came in rather handy a few minutes ago. Isobel got a gun out of the helicopter. She was
going to use it on either you or Gladstone or both. I couldn't tell which. I used
Valley
to knock it out of her hand. Worked like a charm."