Ice Woman Assignment (29 page)

Felicity stood behind Morgan with her head down, her hair obscuring her face, as if she was hiding behind her partner.

“And you, Mister Stark?”

Morgan responded to her question, staring at his captor. His gaze seemed to glance off those silver orbs but he held her eyes anyway.

“If this is it, bitch, I'll be waiting for you in hell,” he said.

Anaconda looked around. This was a perceptive woman, and Morgan, following her gaze, could guess what was happening in her mind. She was noting the subtle shifts in body language and less aggressive facial expressions. She would note how gun barrels swayed away from their intended targets. For a moment she seemed uneasy, aware of her men regarding Morgan with respect. Too much respect. Morgan started a small smile. Then Frederico, ignored until now, faced his brother who stood just behind
Anaconda. His eyes were sad.

“You will die with her, you know,” he said. Frederico's pronouncement made all her men nervous. The situation would become critical if they stayed on the ground any longer. Anaconda quickly boarded her helicopter, along with Quesada and her pilot. Anthony climbed in last, just as Anaconda ordered the pilot to lift off.

While the big rotor slowly started turning, Morgan was cataloging the situation. The rope, now tied to the helicopter's tail, had a good forty feet of slack. If he managed to somehow free himself quickly, he would get a bullet in the head. If it took him more than a minute, he'd face a long fall to an unpleasant death. He had run out of good options at last. Feeling the biting wind the rotor sent down, Morgan tried to twist his head around.

“Time for an idea,” he said to Felicity.

“Do not worry,” Frederico said. For the first time, Morgan became aware of him, and the confident look on his face. “You are the puma, and she, the hawk. Together you will pull the flying serpent from the sky.”

Morgan's response was jerked out of him when the rope suddenly snapped taut and dragged them into the air. At first it was a dizzying ride. They were swaying under the rising helicopter, spinning as the twined rope uncoiled. The cold cut into Morgan right through the thin jumpsuit, and two ropes bit into his skin. The earth twisted below in all directions. The continuous helicopter sound from above quickly became the meaningless drone of white noise.

Soon the twisting stopped and they were hanging straight, a few hundred feet in the air. Morgan pulled his stomach in, trying to turn. If he could face Felicity, his body and Frederico's would protect her, hopefully until the rope frayed and broke from impact with the trees. He was half turned when he saw tears flowing freely from Felicity's eyes.

“God damn it!” Felicity swore, startling Morgan as much as Frederico. She looked up at Morgan through tortured eyes he did not understand. “I was going to do it, but I can't figure out how the damn thing works.”

“What?” Morgan never finished his question because Felicity held her hands up as far as she could. Her left held the small paper package that held C4, and her right had a single pencil fuse.

“When we fell, I was over the helicopter runner and I felt this stuff in the tall grass. I grabbed them, but only got one of the fuse things. Sure and I would have set it off too, so you'd never know what happened. No time for fear. But I can't figure out how to get the fuse to go off.”

A rush of thoughts, facts, and ideas flashed through Morgan's mind, first and foremost being “Thank God.”

“Red, you're brave as hell, but it wouldn't have worked. The blast wouldn't have reached the copter. But maybe, maybe I can. Shit, the boy could turn out to be right.” If I really can climb like a puma, he thought.

“Can you get this damn wire off my wrists?” Morgan asked. Felicity bent her neck, Morgan raised his hands, and the girl applied her teeth to twisting wire. It seemed agonizingly slow under the circumstances, but in fact she freed Morgan's hands within two minutes. Then she worked at the inner rope, separating him from herself and Frederico.

“Look out!” Frederico called out and Felicity's eyes grew wide. Morgan half turned and saw the top of a huge fern rushing at him. He had almost forgotten they were moving. He hugged Felicity, gritting his teeth.

The sharp edges of fronds and branches heightened the jarring impact. Morgan felt his back getting warm and wet, and knew why. The crash had shredded the nylon shell away, leaving his back covered with only blood. The helicopter turned. Positioning for another pass, Morgan
assumed. He placed the pencil fuse in his mouth like a cigar, and clutched the plastique under his chin.

“You two hold tight to the outer rope, and we'll see if we can go out with a bang.” With a forced smile toward Felicity he squirmed free and started climbing.

In difficult situations, you thank the Lord for any help that appears. Morgan appreciated the thick, rough hemp rope because he could easily grip it and climb. He moved upward slowly, trying to ignore the raw wounds on his back, the grating on his hands, the rough cord scraping across his crotch with each move upward.

Twenty feet up the rope, Morgan felt a directional shift. They were making another run for the ferns. He looked down at Felicity who nodded her head stoically and began to swing. Despite their forward momentum, she managed to get a good swing going, side to side. Morgan, halfway up the rope, pulled in rhythm with her. Their swing became pronounced as they approached the next tree. As they came even with it, Felicity and Frederico reached the end of a lateral swing. Long fronds lashed Felicity's limbs but that had to be much better than hitting the springy trunk.

Morgan kept moving up the rope, but his progress was slowing. Damage done during their private war with Anaconda was taking its toll. A lancing pain in his right forearm from a knife wound was being echoed by his left calf, thanks to a bullet hole. Pain sapped the strength in those muscles, making a difficult climb impossible. The downdraft from the rotor shoved against him, forcing him to close his eyes. The noise was ear-splitting. Vibrations travelling down from the copter tail made his grip less dependable each second.

Just two meters from the helicopter's body Morgan realized he could not push himself any higher. His grip was failing and he had no desire to become part of the beautiful rain forest landscape he now flew over. Instead, he
wrapped his right arm in the rope, looping it three times. He held the explosive plastic in his left hand.

The fuses were so simple, it was no wonder Felicity had not figured out how they worked. You had to look at one to see how the mechanism did its explosive job. Inside each detonator was a thin metal band, like you find in electrical fuses. Squeezing the pencil rod ruptured a squib of powerful acid. Fuse delay time depended on how long it took the acid to eat through the metal band. When the band snapped, it would release the plunger which, he hoped, would trigger the explosion. Felicity had only grabbed one, a fairly short one, but it would have to do.

One handed, Morgan pulled the paper wrapping from the plastic lump and squeezed off half. He bit down on the detonator, releasing the acid and beginning the countdown. It was a one minute fuse. He swung the small wad of putty up toward his mouth, jamming it onto the detonator. Then he swung his arm back and tossed his explosive ball straight up into the powerful wind.

Fire shot through Morgan's upper arm where a knife had so recently been, but the lump of plastique hit and stuck to the helicopter's belly. Sucking in a deep breath, Morgan slid back down the rope, a bit more quickly than he wanted.

“And?” Felicity asked when Morgan reached her. Her hair was scattered in all directions and he thought he could see goosebumps on her flesh where the wind pressed her jumpsuit tight against her arms and shoulders.

“We'll know in a few seconds,” Morgan replied. Over Felicity, he could see Frederico's mouth gape open and this time he did not wait to be told. He wrapped himself around Felicity anticipating another impact. They were driving in at another tall tree fern, faster this time. Morgan clenched his teeth and clamped his eyes shut. It would be close.

The world's sound track was cut, and a tangible silence surrounded Morgan. A shock wave instantly deafened him,
followed by a wave of searing heat that swept him from above. The rope went slack. His eyes opened a crack but the world was spinning so wildly it did not help. The feeling of weightlessness spurred the vertigo.

When the impact came it was on his side, and Morgan clutched wildly at fronds that broke off in his hands. He managed to grasp the woody stem that imitated a trunk for the tree fern. The outer rope's large, loose loop dragged on him, threatening to tear his grip loose. In a burst of panic he struggled to free himself from it but before he could, he realized he was holding up the other two captives. In a moment that weight eased. Frederico was holding the stem below him and Felicity was pulling herself up to Morgan's level.

Morgan could taste last night's dinner, his last meal, again. Felicity did not look as if she enjoyed the ride any better. Most of her jumpsuit's top half had been torn away. Shaking his head to clear it, Morgan spotted the helicopter listing in a wide circle away from them. It was losing altitude unevenly, as if the pilot were somehow trying to keep his ruptured aircraft flying. The tail boom was almost completely disconnected, and without a tail rotor, the copter gyrated wildly. Two bodies flew from it just before it landed with a heavy thump next to the drug production plant and erupted in flames.

Felicity stared long and hard into Morgan's eyes before saying, with dramatic understatement, “Well, you did it.”

“We did it,” he answered. “I was out of ideas until you came up with the plastique.”

“Okay, we did it,” Felicity said through a giggle. “Now, how do we get down?”

Hands moving stiffly, Morgan pulled in the rope they so recently dangled from and tied its end to the treetop. Frederico and Morgan then gripped it and lowered the three of them to the ground.

“Now what?” Morgan asked the sky. He leaned back against the tree fern's stem, then snapped forward, wincing with pain. His sleeves slid off, having nothing to hold them up.

“Well, I figure the house is only about fifty meters away, and everybody just ran out of it toward the wreck,” Felicity said. “I'm thinking that's the place to be.”

“They are not running to the crash,” Frederico said. “They are running in all directions, disappearing into the jungle. They fear Anaconda's death, and without a clear leader, the Escorpionistas will begin fighting each other for dominance. No one wants to be in that battle until they know which way it may go.”

Morgan nodded, and struck out for the house. The grass was wet and sharp against his toes and it felt good. The sun had risen a bit and its warm rays felt good too. He was not sure he deserved to be alive, but he sure appreciated it.

Felicity gripped Morgan's arm. He staggered and almost fell over. When he looked at her with a question in his eyes she pointed off to their right. At first he saw nothing, but he soon focused on a figure in the grass. He was propped up on one arm, holding a gun with the other but unable to aim it. Oily hair hung straight down his forehead to a scar stretching out from next to his right eye.

“I'm thinking that's unfinished business,” Felicity said, and Morgan nodded. He left Felicity behind and walked toward Quesada. He stopped when he stood five feet away. The Colombian's gun hand wavered aimlessly. Morgan looked down at the helpless figure and smiled a crooked smile.

“Rough landing,” Morgan said. “Break your leg?” Quesada looked up at Morgan and dropped his gun, trying to sit straighter. “No, it's your hip that's broken, isn't it?” Morgan knelt beside him. “They left you behind, didn't they? And you can't walk, can't even crawl, can't defend
yourself. You don't want to lay here and wait for blood loss or thirst or the wolves to come for you.”

Quesada looked up at Morgan, his eyes pleading. Morgan leaned toward him and wrapped an arm around Quesada's head. “By the way, the girl's name was Mary. Mary Carter. Got it?” Quesada nodded. “Good. When you get there, make sure you tell Marta. He doesn't know why I killed him.”

Morgan looked toward Felicity. Although she was facing away from him, he saw her jump when she heard Quesada's spine crack. A moment later, he rejoined her, handing Frederico a torn jacket, which he wrapped gently around Felicity's shoulders.

Numbed by all that happened in the last half hour, it was a moment before Morgan felt the eyes on him. He turned to face a snarling maned wolf. They had not looked this big before. Morgan and the wolf locked eyes. As long as he faced the animal, it hesitated.

“Frederico, get Felicity to the house,” Morgan said. “Slow and easy.” Why didn't you pick up Quesada's gun, he asked himself.

Morgan felt danger from another source and glanced quickly behind himself. Felicity had almost reached the back of the house, and she was face to face with evil. She was staring at Anaconda who, impossibly, was standing almost unhurt, pointing a pistol at Morgan.

“I cannot be destroyed so easily,” Anaconda said, her silver eyes wide with madness. “Don't you understand? I will always come back. I have power. I have a destiny.”

Frederico opened the sliding glass door and thrust Felicity inside before turning toward his former mistress. “I am sorry,” he said. “Your story ends here.”

Uncertainty crossed Anaconda's face as she waved her small pistol from Frederico to Morgan and back. Morgan watched her closely, gauging distances and timing,
knowing full well that in his present condition he could never reach her before she shot him.

Then a growl made Anaconda turn. A maned wolf was racing toward her. He stopped when she spun on him, but she panicked and shot him. Four others stepped toward her. While the animals focused their attention on Anaconda, Morgan sprinted for the house. He heard a second shot behind him, then the nerve shattering clack of a hammer falling on an empty chamber. Tiny footsteps followed him toward the door, falling hopelessly behind.