Dangerous Secrets (54 page)

‶
There′s no place to hide.
I want to get them close enough to us to cause an accident,″ he said.
Morgan didn′t question Jack′s decision. She glanced over her
shoulder and through the window to the mirror, sometimes holding her breath,
but she trusted him. Jack took his hand off the steering wheel long enough to
squeeze the hand she gripped the armrest with. It was cold with fear. She looked
at it for a moment, then at him. Trust shown in her eyes. Jack returned his
hand to the steering wheel and his attention to the ground.

The three trucks were close enough now for him
to determine the make, model and color of each one. He wove side to side in a
cat-and-mouse attempt, playing on the psychology that he was sure they′d
think he was trying to get away from them.

When they were a third of the way between the
two hills, Jack headed to the right. Immediately one of the trucks behind him
took to that side, climbing higher than he did in an attempt to cut him off. A
second truck took the other hill.

‶
Good,″ he whispered to
himself. They did exactly what he expected. If this trick worked he′d
take out the three of them in one tragic swoop. Jack eased back on the
accelerator, swinging the sporty van from side to side. Each of the trucks on
the hillsides went higher and lower as he did while the one behind him got
closer. He was betting it all. Either this worked or he and Morgan would be in
the hands of the people they′d been running from since they left St.
Charles.

He glanced at Morgan. She was beautiful. Her
skin was tight and she clenched her teeth, but Jack thought she′d never
looked better. He wanted to run his hands down her cheek, touch her, reassure
her that everything would be fine.

He couldn′t.

He didn′t know when of even if things
would get better. Morgan would only appreciate knowing the truth. He
didn′t have to tell her what was about to happen. She already knew.

The two hills on either side were mirrors of
each other. Their steepness rose at the same angle. Several yards more, Jack
thought. He looked behind them. The four vehicles could be a convoy. Formed,
three crossed and one behind, they traveled at the same pace. The ground ahead of
him was flat for several hundred yards. The hills would rise steeper, then fall
away. It had to be
now.

Jack waited. He watched the truck behind him.
It got closer. He could see the man in the driver′s seat. He wasn′t
Korean or any extraction of Oriental heritage. He could have been from any
European country or from any state in the lower forty-eight. His features were
taut and determined. He drove with concentration and purpose. Jack′s eyes
made contact with his in the rearview mirror. They held for a second, then Jack
floored the accelerator and took off.

On cue, each of the trucks behind him did the
same. The incline on the side of the twin hills grew steeper by a sharp degree.
Both trucks began to slide downward into the path of the oncoming truck that
pursued Jack with unbridled abandon. The truck on the right hill hit a rock and
started to roll. It fell onto the flat ground just as the one on the left came
to a stop. The impact of the two trucks swung them around in a weird promenade
that was joined by the third truck crashing into the first two and jumping into
the air. The metal ballet fell short of an in the air split. The three of them
slid together like Siamese triplets trying to turn in separate directions.

They came to a crashing halt of tangled metal,
their noise magnified by the valley between the hills.

‶
Yes!″ Morgan whooped,
looking backwards.
‶
You did it.″ She reached for him, but the
trappings of her tight seat belt and harness kept her in place.

Jack bumped along the nearly flat ground.
Several yards ahead it ended in a turn. Swinging the vehicle around, he came to
an abrupt stop. Ahead of them sat a military helicopter. Jack recognized the
heavily armored McDonnell Douglas AH-64 Apache. This gunship had less speed and
range than its successor, a Russian Mil Mi-24 Hind used in the Afghan war, but
the sophisticated navigation, ECM, and fire-control systems on board more than
made up for the lack of speed. In any case, Jack was trapped. He couldn′t
outrun it. It stared at them like a fierce animal, big, green, its rotors
silent, its gun pointing straight at them.

***

‶
Why the hell didn′t you
tell me, Clarence?′′ Hart Lewiston slapped the week-old newspaper
on the desk of the FBI Director. ″Someone tried to kill her.″

‶
The newspaper doesn′t say
that.″ The paper said there was a gas leak and a neighbor investigating
the smell had been killed in the explosion.

‶
It doesn′t have to. You
and I know what newspapers don′t say. Her house blew up and someone was
killed. She hasn′t been seen since. Where is she, Clarence?″ Hart
glared at the FBI director.

Hart Lewiston was a senator. He was running for
president and likely to win. He never traveled alone, but he′d stormed
into the office of the director without a single security agent following him.

‶
Hart, we′re trying to
find her. We′ve been on this since the incident occurred.″

‶
You knew, didn′t you,
Clarence? When I walked in here two days ago spilling my guts about a child I
didn′t know existed, you already knew?″

Clarence took the seat behind his desk.
‶
Sit
down, Hart.″ He said it quietly. The man in front of him was angry and
might get angrier. Clarence decided to tell him the truth. He was her father.
He deserved to know.

Hart hesitated, but took the seat. He looked at
Clarence with an unobstructed view.

‶
Morgan has been under limited
surveillance for twelve years, since she returned from the Olympics in Korea.
We offered her witness protection. She refused it.″

‶
Witness protection. Why?″

‶
Morgan was a gymnast and she
was on the Olympic team. She had a legitimate reason to go to Korea.″

‶
I know that everyone on the
planet has seen the video of her winning the gold medal. Why should that
matter?″

‶
We had a man in a Korean prison
with information in his head. We needed to get him out.″

Hart came out of the chair so fast he nearly
toppled it over.
‶
I don′t believe it. Are you saying that
girl″—he pointed at the newspaper—″that nineteen-year-old was the
person who got
me
out of that Korean
jail?″

Clarence looked up at the towering senator.
‶
Not
entirely, but without her you would have died there. When she agreed to do it,
no one knew either of you were related.″

‶
Why not? You′re the damn
FBI. You know everything.″

Clarence explained the details of her birth
outside the United States. Her years of being homeless and then adopted. They
needed someone who could do what she did and, at nineteen, no one thought there
was a connection between a homeless adoptee and you.″

Hart sat down. He nearly collapsed into the
chair as though his leg muscles had stopped functioning.
‶
When
did you find out?″

‶
A few days ago.′′
He didn′t know before that, but Ashleigh had.

‶
You should have told me.″

‶
I wasn′t her mother. If
she chose not to tell you and Morgan didn′t tell you, it wasn′t my
place.″

It was a weak answer, but it was the truth.

‶
Where is she now?″

‶
West Virginia. She should be at
FBI headquarters in less than an hour.″ Clarence checked his watch.

‶
I want to go there.″

***

Fear manifested itself immediately in the
coldness that gripped her, shooting through her body like pure heroin injected
into several veins at once. Morgan′s hand shot out and grasped
Jack′s arm. Breath caught in her throat, preventing her from screaming. A
cold finger slid down her spine, its coldness so stark her entire body
shuddered. She blinked at the huge green monster, expecting it to open fire,
cutting them down in the weakly protected van.

‶
Get out of the
vehicle,′′ a voice boomed through some kind of address system,
metallic, authoritative, decisive, imposing. It vibrated through her like a
cold Chicago wind. ″Hands in the air.″

‶
What do we do?″ Morgan
asked, not taking her eyes off the two men in the helicopter.

‶
Comply,″ Jack said. He
opened the door and raised his hands.
‶
Morgan, do exactly what they
say.″ She heard the warning in his voice.

She opened her door, raising her hands in the
same fashion as Jack. As soon as she was outside the helicopter door opened. A
man in fatigues stepped out, pointing a rifle at them. The man was a giant,
dressed in the same colors as the helicopter. His dark skin blended into the
surroundings, but the rifle remained brilliantly black, the sun glinting off
its barrel.

‶
Who are you?″ Morgan
tried to keep the quaver out of her voice.

‶
I ask the
questions.′′ His voice was gut deep. It barreled through Morgan,
enforcing her fear. ″Move away from the vehicle.″ He jerked the gun
to the side.

Morgan stepped in the direction he indicated.
She glanced through the door at Jack. He moved one step also.

‶
You!″

Morgan jumped as he shouted at her and shoved
the gun. She felt more than saw Jack move. The giant swung the gun toward Jack.
He stopped.

The big man pulled a pair of handcuffs out and
threw them on the ground between Jack and Morgan.

‶
Pick them up,″ he snarled
at her.

Morgan looked at them as if a snake wiggled
there.

‶
Pick them up.″ This time
he spoke quietly and slowly, enunciating each word as if she spoke a foreign
language. Morgan stepped in front of the SUV and picked up the silver shackles.
‶
Put
them on him.″ He indicated Jack.

Morgan looked at Jack. She stared into
Jack′s eyes. He nodded slightly. She walked toward him, her eyes never
leaving his as she put the handcuffs on his wrists.

‶
It′ll be all
right,″ he whispered.

‶
Move away from him,″ the
giant ordered.

Morgan stepped back and turned around. She
stood directly in front of Jack. The giant threw another set of cuffs at her
feet.
‶
Those
are for you. Put them on.″ His snarl grated like blackboard chalk.

The look Morgan gave him could melt stone.
Obviously he was harder than stone. Morgan reached down and lifted the dusty
shackles. She stared at the green giant as she braceletted her hands together.

‶
Now, get in.″ He waved
the gun toward the opposite side of the helicopter. They both moved.
‶
Not
you.″ They both stopped, but he indicated Jack.

‶
Where are you taking us?″
Morgan asked.

‶
To hell. Now do as I say or
I′ll take a dead body back. It means nothing to me one way or the
other.″

‶
Morgan.″ Jack′s
voice held a warning.
‶
Do as he says.″

She responded to Jack′s commands and
walked toward the silent bird. The man sitting in the pilot′s seat
trained his gun on her, a small hand pistol. He opened the door as she
approached and stepped out. The back doors were already open. Morgan stepped on
the skid, but couldn′t get into the aircraft with her hands banded. The
pilot hauled her into the seat and slid the door closed. Jack was seated next
to her, but the giant additionally cuffed his leg to the bolted seat. Morgan
immediately knew these two understood each other. Had they met before?

Jack had known the man at the camp who tried to
kill her. Did he know this man too? Or was he known by his reputation? In any
case he was taking no chance that Jack would do something abruptly. The door
next to him slammed closed, making Morgan clench her teeth.

Above her the rotors started to turn. The noise
grew to a roar. Morgan thought quickly. She had to do something. They
couldn′t capture them both. Jack had sent the ring and papers to
Washington. They no longer had them. So there was no longer any reason to keep
either of them alive. If one of them got away, the other could buy time. Jack
could do nothing. He was shackled to the seat in which he sat. It was left to
her. Her heart thundered at the plan hatching in her brain. She′d never
expected anything like this. She would have to leave Jack. It was the only way
they could survive.

Quickly she looked at their killers. They had
placed earphones over their ears. Morgan turned to Jack.
‶
I′m
leaving,″ she mouthed, not speaking out loud.

Jack frowned, but made no move. Morgan
wasn′t sure he understood her, but she couldn′t explain. The
helicopter lifted off the ground. The green giant had stored his rifle. He had
a handgun bolstered on his right. It was out of sight. The pilot′s gun
was also stored. Both his hands worked the stick in front of him. Morgan stole
a glance at Jack. His eyebrows rose as if to question her motives.

She couldn′t explain. Every second
counted. There was no time to tell him that with both of them, their captors
had checkmate. They could play her against him, threaten him to get her to tell
them what they wanted to know. Jack might be strong and able to cope with what
they could do to her, although she doubted it. He played the strong, silent
type, but she knew underneath he′d cave as surely as she would in the
face of a threat to him.