Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (36 page)

“Ready?”

She sat up and grabbed the bag, her handcuffs
clinking.

Doctor Fenton sighed, clutching his tablet to
his chest.

John shot him a look. “Doc?”

“I don’t like this at all.”

That was fair enough, but they had to go
today or the whole plan would be screwed up. Still, Palmer didn’t
need to know. “She’s not okay to travel?”

“I’d say barely. She can’t walk far. She
shouldn’t be carrying anything and no sudden movements. It’s just
not worth making her injuries worse. Ms. Caleri has refused strong
painkillers, which means she’ll be in considerable pain if the ride
is bumpy.”

John figured Palmer intended on making the
ride as bumpy as possible. He wanted Andra to know he was sorry,
but couldn’t do that with the doctor and Palmer looking on.

“We could wait until next week.” John saw his
deputy tense in the edge of his vision.

The doctor scratched his chin. Palmer strode
over and took hold of Andra’s elbow. “She’ll be fine. Where Andra’s
going there’ll be plenty of medical attention when she needs
it.”

The deputy had his gun on his hip. He was
wearing a vest only because John told him he needed it. The man
knew next to nothing about prisoner transfer, at least not until
John explained that to him too. John guessed he was supposed to
chalk most of what was about to happen up to Palmer’s inexperience.
Did Palmer really think he was stupid?

John grabbed her bag and they walked her to
the Jeep. Just as they pulled up at the ranch, the helicopter
landed. Palmer hauled Andra out of the car, but John stopped their
forward progress while he grabbed two things from the trunk. John
shut the rear door so Palmer couldn’t see what else was in
there.

He put a vest and a helmet on her, while she
stared up at him with those dark eyes.

“Is that necessary?”

John didn’t look at Palmer, he wanted this
moment of Andra’s focus on him to communicate, without words, he
intended to do everything to make sure she got through this in one
piece.

Her dark eyes were wary. John tightened the
chin strap. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Ms. Caleri,
would we Palmer?”

“But she’s guilty of murder.” Palmer’s voice
betrayed him, like he didn’t quite believe his own lie.

“It’s still our responsibility to safeguard
her until she goes to trial.”

He tightened the chin strap. Andra’s brown
eyes looked more gold in the morning light. It was almost eleven,
but the sun was starting to peak over the eastern mountains. Why
hadn’t he noticed their color before?

“Once you’re on the chopper she’ll be your
responsibility, Palmer.” He glanced at the man. “Got all the
paperwork?”

“Yup.” He swung his backpack over his
shoulder.

Having one hand holding the strap wasn’t
going to help him much. In a fight, Palmer would be dead before he
dropped the bag and had the chance to draw his weapon.

John stepped back. “Looks like you’re all
set.”

Over at the aircraft, Matthias was helping
unload the mail. John waited while Palmer assisted Andra into the
chopper and the door was shut. Within minutes, they were in the air
and over the mountains.

Seconds after they disappeared, a small plane
glinted white in the sunlight as it peaked the mountains. John
watched as it banked an arc in the sky above Sanctuary and the
Cessna landed on the road.

While it taxied around to face the other way,
John opened the trunk of his Jeep. He took off his uniform shirt
and pulled a vest over his white undershirt, then topped that with
his blue shell jacket with US MARSHALS stenciled on the back.

After glancing around to check no one was in
viewing range, he sat on the edge of the trunk, shucked his shoes
and pulled off the awful uniform pants, changing them for blue
jeans before he put his boots back on. He buckled his belt and
transferred his weapon to the holster at his waist. He pulled out
his shotgun, too, just for good measure. And topped it all with the
ball cap Grant had given him for Christmas two years ago, which
he’d only just broken in.

The airplane steps popped open and lowered to
the ground. Two men climbed out, one with a considerable limp.

John shook his head. “You guys cannot be
here. This is a massive breach of security.”

Nate grinned his touchdown smile. “You wanted
a plane.” He waved at the Cessna behind him. “Voila, Nate to the
rescue.”

“And him?” John waved in the direction of his
brother, Ben.

Nate said, “I needed a pilot.”

Ben, who tended to be as quiet as their other
brother was effusive, frowned at Nate. “I can speak for
myself.”

“You were supposed to send anonymous
personnel. Retired military, or someone else Grant could approve.
Pat is going to be ticked off you guys were here and he didn’t see
you.” John sighed. “They just left. We have to get going.”

Nate raised one hand, palm out. “I vote to
stay here and hang with Pat.”

“You can’t. This town is the federal
government’s best kept secret.”

“I swear, I won’t say a thing.”

John wanted to groan, but there was no time.
“You know what? No. I love that you want to see my son. But the
people who live here, their lives count the security remaining
intact. Now get on the plane. We have to go.”

Nate cracked a smile. “Man, you’re testy when
your woman’s in danger.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Ben’s lips, but he
sprinted up the steps. John followed them and Ben pulled the door
shut.

John stopped beside his brother. “You really
know how to fly this thing?”

Ben lifted his dark blue eyes. “Their chopper
is bigger and heavier. It won’t take long to catch up. They have to
radio in regularly, so if we can find their signal we’ll know where
they are.”

John nodded.

“You haven’t put on weight, have you?” Ben
tipped his head to the side. “Because these things have a
limit.”

John shoved him toward the front of the
plane. “Just get us in the air.”

Nate had settled on the rear seats, four on
either side facing in from the walls. He set his bandaged foot on
the opposite seat and buckled the belt, donning bulky
headphones.

“Ready!”

The ceiling didn’t allow John to straighten
all the way, so he bent and walked to sit with his brother up
front.

John glanced at Ben and they grinned. Nate’s
exuberance reminded him of Pat. His brother and his son definitely
needed to spend time together before Nate went back to Florida.

Ben got them moving, smoothly lifting the
plane off the ground. They flew over Main Street on their way over
town before banking right toward the mountains. Beyond the peaks
stretched miles and miles of terrain which dipped and swelled. Snow
dotted the whole area as they flew low, following the southerly
route the military aircraft would likely take back to Mountain Home
Air Force Base.

The radio crackled and Ben reached low on the
console to flip through channels of static. John glanced at his
brother, who kept his attention out the window while he searched
for the channel the military was using. None of them knew what Ben
did for a living and it didn’t help to ask either, because he’d say
they didn’t have the clearance to know. When questioned, their
stoic brother simply withdrew further, barely speaking at all.

The crackle smoothed out.
“…Delta-Tango-Seven-Six. I’ve got a light on signaling low coolant.
It’s dipping pretty fast. I might have to set her down, over.”

Ben glanced in John’s direction for a second.
“He’s downplaying it. He could very well have to make an emergency
landing.”

A voice on the radio replied, “Roger that,
Delta-Tango-Six-Seven. Keep us apprised. Out.”

John looked out the window. “Where’s he going
to set down out here?”

“Not sure.” Ben waved to the far side of
John’s lap. “Get the map out. See if there are any flat spots, or a
stretch of highway. He won’t need much to be able to set down.
We’ll need more. A quarter mile is plenty if we’re going to stop
without hitting a mountain and exploding into a ball of fire.”

“Good to know.” John pulled out the map, but
it was all mountains.

Ben pointed to the center of the page. “This
is where we are. We’re going south-east.”

“There’s nothing but mountains. A river…”
John looked further out. “There’s a highway to the south.” He
tipped the map so Ben could see it. “You think they’re down there
already?”

“Count on it. Those things might be bulky,
but they can move.”

John folded the map so the highway was on
top. It snaked across the county. There was a straight stretch just
under a mile long.

“Base, this is Delta-Tango-Six-Seven, we’re
setting her down.” He rattled off a series of numbers.

Ben glanced at the map and then pointed.
“That’s where they’re headed.”

“Requesting emergency assistance. Over.”

John’s already tense stomach tightened
further. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

The other person on the radio confirmed help
was on its way. Ben said, “It’s a leak. It could happen at any
time.”

John shook his head. “Do you really believe
that?”

“Given what Grant told us when he briefed us
what’s going on… No, I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“Someone sabotaged the military
aircraft.”

Ben nodded, his eyes focused on the window
and his jaw was tight. “Likely, yes. They want your girl, so
they’re probably going to intercept the chopper on its way and
extract her.”

John pulled off his headphones and called
Grant to fill him in.

“I agree with Ben’s assessment.”

John squeezed his free hand into a fist. “Can
we get some help? We have no idea how many there will be.”

“No can do, sorry. There’s no personnel
anywhere near you except who the military sends out. They can help.
And Ben is armed.”

John glanced at his other brother. “Why is
Ben armed?”

“Let’s just say he’s worth at least three
Marines, and that is no slight to the Navy.”

“That’s not exactly helpful, either.”

“It’s the best you’re going to get. And I
only know because the President read me in. I have higher security
clearance than God now.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

Grant said, “The connection to Sanctuary is
back up. We’re hoping someone will make a move so we know who the
murderer is, assuming it was a woman and not Palmer.”

“And Pat?”

“The First Lady sent me an email saying they
had cupcakes and both she and Pat had chocolate on their faces. So
he’s doing okay.”

Some of the knot in John’s middle unraveled.
“Thank you.”

“You’ll get this done. You always do.” Grant
paused. “And Ben will help.”

“Later.” John hung up.

Grant had faith in him. Maybe it didn’t
matter if John wasn’t convinced he could pull this off. Was he
enough? Andra’s life was at stake, and there was no way he was
prepared to have this end with any of their deaths.

“Base, this is Delta-Tango-Six-Seven. We’ve
set down and shut down. Over.”

“Help is on its way.”

Ben banked the plane to the right and they
topped a ridge. Empty highway stretched out in front of them.

“Where are they?”

Ben said, “South. Mile and a half.”

The radio clicked on. “Base, we’re being
approached by a black SUV. We may be able to catch a ride,
over.”

“Understood, Delta-Tango-Six-Seven. Help is
ten minutes out.”

John didn’t like the sound of this. Unless
the SUV was a federal car, it might not spell anything good. “How
long?”

Ben pointed at the hill where the highway
disappeared. “Over that hill.”

John set the phone in his lap but didn’t put
the headphones back on. Instead, he closed his eyes.

Okay, this is weird.
It was like being
a kid again, saying nightly prayers. Why didn’t he do that with
Pat?

God, Andra loves You. She needs Your help
right now. She won’t fight what’s going to happen, but I can’t lose
her.

He figured giving God an ultimatum wasn’t
really the thing to do, so he said,
Help me save her.
Please.

Strong fingers and a calloused palm touched
the back of John’s neck. He looked up at his brother and Ben
squeezed.

John stuck the headset back on. “For what
it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

Ben nodded. “It’s worth a lot.”

The chopper had landed on the highway, a ways
down from where the road leveled out. He checked his watch. Seven
minutes until more Air Force personnel showed up to help.

Ben hit some levers and dipped the rudder
forward to lower the nose. They slowed, descending onto the highway
beyond the chopper. Ben flew to the end, circled around and then
landed the Cessna on the road facing the military aircraft. There
was no one else in sight.

A wrong feeling settled in John’s
stomach.

Ben shut down the plane and John didn’t wait.
He flipped the stairs down and drew his weapon as he ran to the
chopper.

The front window was smashed, a small
circular hole in the center of both sides where bullets had taken
out the pilot and co-pilot. He sprinted around to the side. Ben
caught up to him as John approached the open door. One airman lay
with his torso out of the chopper, blood on his chest. Dead.

Three down.

And it was empty.

“She’s not here. She’s gone.” John sucked in
a choppy breath. “We were too late.”

Andra unclipped the helmet and slipped it
off, even though she was still handcuffed. She tossed it on the
floor by her feet

Death hadn’t changed, not in all the years
since she’d seen it up close the last time. It was still cold and
ugly, and there was nothing honorable about it. That was a lie
people told to make themselves feel better. In reality, the only
people who benefited from the farce were those left behind, and it
didn’t do them much good either.