Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (31 page)

She remembered the first time she met him, the lethality that he kept just under the surface, yet the kind and considerate manner in which he always conducted himself. How he’d protected Abigail, always thoughtful as to the effect his presence
might have on the toddler. Abigail loved him. They all loved him. Buck had meant so much to her and Abigail over the years, his calm demeanor, and his quiet confidence. He’d always seemed to know when to talk and when she’d needed solitude. He’d always been there for her. A phone call and he’d come to her rescue. Now all of that was lost forever. In a final act of selfless bravery, he’d saved the lives of four more people, including Donovan and Stephanie, and she’d never be able to thank him. She cried for her husband, she had no idea what he would be feeling. The empty seat next to him would be heart wrenching. He’d lost so many people. How would he cope with losing Buck?

Wracking sobs pummeled her as she felt arms reach around her and pull her close. She looked up and found Michael, tears streaked down from his pain-filled eyes. Beyond him stood William, his face etched with shock and disbelief.

“I can’t raise them on the radio, so I maneuvered the
Scimitar
past the Cessna’s left wing. I think the abrasion from the ash took out the Cessna’s antenna. I’ll use the
Scimitar
and start searching for a clearing, a road, anywhere Donovan can set the airplane down.”

Lauren watched as John focused the synthetic aperture radar image on the ground. At each possible spot, he’d zoom in and wait for Michael to make a determination. On the third try, John zoomed in on a road. It ran uphill slightly, with some kind of crop planted on both sides that would give the wings plenty of clearance. At the end, the road made a sharp turn as it reached a grove of trees.

“That’s perfect!” Michael slapped John on the back. “Now fly back to the Cessna and do whatever it takes to get Donovan to follow the
Scimitar
back to that spot. He’ll know what to do when he sees what I see.”

“How can he land a floatplane on a road?” John asked.

“Because he’s flying an amphibian, he has wheels. Remember when they took off from the runway in Guatemala City?”

“He’s right behind us,” John called out, as he found the
Cessna and zoomed in on Donovan. Lauren could see her husband’s long hair and beard streaked white with ash. Tears ran from his eyes, and Lauren felt her heart break a little more at the sight. She caught sight of Stephanie in the back, a young girl’s arms wrapped around her neck. Hidden in the shadows sat Eva. Lauren turned to William who stood next to her. Whatever he’d done over the years, what she saw this instant was an elderly man getting a glimpse of the niece he’d thought he’d lost. He tried to force a smile, but couldn’t.

As John banked the
Scimitar
toward the section of road that Michael had selected for the emergency landing, Donovan followed.

“Where’s Janie?” Michael asked.

“She’s headed this way. She should be on the scene within minutes of them touching down.”

“Thank you, John,” Michael said, and then turned to Lauren. “We’ll get through this.”

Lauren loved Michael for his encouragement. He was trying to hold everyone together until the Cessna was safely on the ground.

Michael turned back to the screen. “How far to the road?”

“Two miles,” John replied.

“How high is he above the ground?” Michael asked, a new sense of urgency in his voice.

“They’re twelve hundred feet above the section of road,” John said.

Michael squinted and cocked his head as he did the calculations. “That’s enough. It’ll be close. John, as fast as you can, use the
Scimitar
to circle the spot we found. The sooner Donovan can see what we have in mind, the better off he’ll be.”

Lauren clutched onto the reassurance that Donovan had Michael looking out for him.

“I’m there,” John said, as the
Scimitar
reached the road and then climbed away from the opening in the trees. He leveled off and then threw the
Scimitar
into a tight-banked
turn only a hundred feet off the ground. John zoomed in on the Cessna, and they all watched as Donovan rocked the wings in acknowledgment.

“He sees it,” Michael said. “Where’s Janie?”

“She’s coming in fast from the west,” John replied. “Her ETA is five minutes.”

“Is she going to be able to land on the road?” William asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Michael replied. “Either way, the new helicopter has a rescue hoist. They’ll get them all out safely. John, position the
Scimitar
to the east so we can see what’s happening without getting in anyone’s way.”

“Will do,” John nodded, and with a gentle flick of his wrist he climbed the
Scimitar
and set up a holding pattern, keeping all the cameras focused on the gliding Cessna.

Lauren took in the motionless prop, the damaged float, and the blackened, dented skin of the airplane Donovan was trying to land, and had no idea how any of this could turn out well.

Donovan spotted the
Scimitar
climb away from the road, effectively marking his spot. He was thankful that John had been so quick to find him a place to land. The interior of the plane was remarkably quiet, the air rushing only a whisper. He judged his descent rate and distance. Everything had to be just right; there wouldn’t be a second chance.

The road snaked up from a series of buildings, leveled out for perhaps eight hundred feet, and then turned up another hill. If he landed short they’d be in the trees; landing long would produce the same result. The drag from the float was the wildcard, forcing Donovan to do it all by feel the first time.

He tried to picture Michael’s description of the damage to the float. The Cessna’s heavy main wheels were housed inside each pontoon. If Donovan had to guess, they were located farther aft than the damage. The main wheels were stressed for the impact of landing. Hopefully, they would extend, but he wouldn’t know until they touched down.

Donovan turned toward the women, forcing himself to look past the empty seat next to him. “Is everyone buckled in as tight as possible?”

“Yes,” Stephanie replied.

“There’s a section of road that should work like a runway, but we’re going to treat it as a crash landing,” Donovan said. “When I tell you to, I want everyone to assume the position, heads down, and hands over your head. Once we come to a stop, unbuckle, and we’ll get out of the plane as quickly as possible.”

“Donovan,” Eva leaned forward and whispered so that only he could hear. “Whatever happens, don’t return Marie to her grandfather. She belongs with her mother in California. I have a feeling your wife knows what I’m talking about.”

Donovan nodded his understanding. He eyed the slender ribbon of dirt carved out of the forest and lowered the first notch of flaps. Seconds later he moved the lever on the console that lowered the gear. He heard noises from below, which told him that something had happened, but the light on the panel indicated the gear was unsafe. He wouldn’t know if the gear was down until they landed.

He lowered the next segment of flaps and allowed the Cessna to slow to seventy knots. He’d wait as long as possible to make sure he’d reach the road before he selected full flaps. Off the left wing, Mt. Atitlán loomed large. The rising plume drifted east, obscuring the entire sky. Donovan gave his own seat belt one last pull, then set the flaps to full, and the airplane slowed dramatically.

He cleared the trees, and the instant before they hit the road, Donovan eased back on the elevator and flared. The stall warning horn sounded and they touched. The vibration from the uneven surface shook the airplane violently and instantly the Cessna tried to veer left, off the road.

Donovan was helpless to do anything as the Cessna plunged into a shallow ditch that lined the road. In a painful shriek of tortured metal, the impact tore the already damaged floats from the airframe and spun the airplane sideways as they ripped through the field of thigh-high coffee plants. Acting like a net, the plants served to slow the Cessna quickly. In a roiling cloud of plants and soil, the airplane spun to an abrupt stop.

From the back of the plane, Donovan could hear Marie’s sobs. Stephanie let out a slow groan of pain that galvanized Donovan into action. He released his seat belt, popped open the door. With the floats gone, the fuselage rested on the soft ground. Donovan crawled out of the cockpit into the dirt, turned, and peered into the rear of the cabin.

“I may have broken my ankle,” Stephanie said through clenched teeth.

Eva untied the elastic bandage holding the gauze patch to her face. She pointed to a piece of aluminum laying in the dirt and Donovan quickly retrieved it, then bent it slightly and handed it to Eva, who gently fashioned a crude but effective splint for Stephanie’s ankle.

“Sit tight,” Donovan said to Stephanie, as Eva, who was closest to the door, began to crawl from the plane. Marie, hesitant to leave Stephanie, finally inched toward Donovan, taking his offered hand. With Eva and Marie free of the plane, Donovan eased in and sat next to Stephanie.

“I can’t move my foot at all,” Stephanie said.

“Okay, this might hurt a little, but I need to get you out of here.”

Stephanie nodded and unfastened her seat belt. Donovan backed out of the cramped space and inched her toward the door. He slid his arms beneath her and lifted her free from the Cessna. He ignored his pain and carefully set her on the ground beneath the wing.

“Help me up,” Stephanie said.

As Donovan lifted, she put her weight on her good leg, and together they hobbled away from the plane. He stopped and stood as the distant sound of a helicopter’s beating rotor filtered through the trees. To the west he spotted a white dot flying in their direction. He had no idea where the
Scimitar
or the
Galileo
were, but he knew he was being watched. He briefly raised both thumbs into the air to indicate that everyone aboard had survived, and then fought an overwhelming sense of loss at the fact that he hadn’t arrived with everyone.

He surveyed the destroyed Cessna, startled by the amount of damage to the top of the wings. Dents ranged from dime-sized dings to divots the size of a saucer. The antennas were all sheared off. Scorch marks from the destroyed engine streaked from underneath the engine cowling. Cessna’s sturdy little airplane had taken a pounding, yet still did all that was asked.

“I hope that’s ours,” Stephanie said, swiveling her head at the sound.

“That should be Janie.” Donovan turned to see if he could spot the helicopter.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” Stephanie laid her head on his shoulder.

“I can’t even think about it,” Donovan said, knowing that at some level Buck’s death was beyond comprehension, and also aware that if he let it, his grief would be all-consuming.

“Please don’t,” Stephanie whispered. “If you do nothing else with the rest of your life, hold the loss of Buck up to the light of day. Don’t bury it as you’ve done with the others. You need to deal with the past, and the present, or the pain is going to destroy you.”

“I’m not having that discussion now,” Donovan replied.

“It’s coming right toward us,” Eva said with an element of concern in her voice.

Donovan looked up and spotted the helicopter. It was close enough for him to confirm Eco-Watch’s brand new Bell 412. Janie was no doubt being vectored to their position by the
Galileo
. He waved his arm.

Janie brought the 412 in fast, raised the nose, and slowed dramatically. She then delicately eased the big machine down until the skids kissed the dirt. The side door was open, and Cesar jumped to the ground, keeping his head down he ran toward them.

“We must hurry,” Cesar called out. “The volcano is very unpredictable.”

Once again, Donovan lifted Stephanie; she looped her arms around his neck for support.

Cesar ran back to the chopper, climbed in, and readied himself for Donovan to set Stephanie in the cabin. The moment Stephanie was inside, Cesar secured her in a row of seats that allowed her to lie down. Cesar pulled a first-aid kit from its rack and Donovan helped Marie and Eva up into the cabin. Once they were aboard, he jumped up and went to the cockpit where Janie and Eric sat.

“Are we good to go?” Janie asked as she turned to him. “Where’s Buck?”

Donovan lowered his head. The sound of Janie using his name felt like a physical blow. He shook his head. “Buck didn’t make it.”

Janie looked up, closed her eyes, and let her head drop. She started to shake her head back and forth, as if trying to escape the information.

“He went quickly,” Donovan put his hand on Janie’s shoulder. He knew that she and Buck were close, that he had once saved her life, pulling her out of a burning helicopter. “Are you going to be okay?”

Janie nodded, swallowed hard, and then turned back to the business of getting the helicopter ready to fly.

“I’ll make sure everyone is settled,” Donovan said and then returned to the cabin. Cesar was attending to Stephanie, and Marie, already strapped in, sat close. Donovan looked around. “Where’s Eva?”

Cesar looked up, clearly surprised. “She was right there a minute ago. She helped the girl with her seat belt.”

Donovan looked at Marie. “Did you see where she went?”

Marie pointed in the opposite direction from the crashed Cessna.

Donovan inwardly cursed and went back to the cockpit. “Are there any guns onboard?”

“Yeah.” Eric removed a Glock from a holster tucked under his arm and handed it to Donovan, butt first. “Buck gave it to me this morning. Said we might need some firepower.”

“Thanks.” Donovan took the weapon. “How about a handheld radio?”

“On the bulkhead behind you,” Eric pointed.

“Eva bolted. I’m going after her.” Donovan turned on the radio, finding the battery fully charged. “Get Stephanie to a doctor. I’m going to instruct the
Galileo
to meet you when you land in Guatemala City. It’s essential that Marie, the young girl onboard, is delivered to Lauren. No one else. Understand?”