Overfall (25 page)

The Beaver seaplane landed on the small inlet that they called Lodge Bay and made it past the breakwater arriving at the dock on momentum alone. It was a slick, fast landing with the radial chugging and spluttering typical of these old twelve-cylinder workhorses. When Sam stepped off the pontoon onto the dock he noticed the clear water, the white sea anemones, maroon starfish, and the small minnows visible below.

It was a blustery day with mottled, battleship-gray clouds with folded, dark creases. Sam, Anna, and three armed-to-the teeth Canadians—two ex-Mounties and one ex-military and all licensed private investigators—walked up the dock and took in the wilderness: bald eagles teetering on the wind, the rush of blowing trees, and the grandeur of towering granite. Any more men and it would have looked like an invasion.

Of the three men that Sam brought along, T.J., one of the ex-Mountie officers, was the natural leader. He was a brown and silver-haired, mustached forty-five-year-old who looked sharp and acted tough. Sam knew he was both, but also knew that he had fallen on hard times. A painful divorce and kids in college had left him broke. Sam worried about such things affecting a man’s performance under fire, but in this case he seemed committed and it was obvious that he was totally impressed by Anna.

Duke, black-haired, squat, and broad, an amateur fighter with stone hands, seemingly more oak than man, walked second to last and carried his weapon as though he expected to use it.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Anna whispered to Sam. He nodded but didn’t reply, concentrating on detecting what might be hidden.

Bringing up the rear was Jeff, a tall and quiet man who lived like a coiled spring.

Sam kept his finger on the trigger of his assault rifle, an M7, and the others did the same. Only Anna was unarmed. At the head of the dock a broad plank walkway traversed the rock and boggy heather beyond. A small stream murmured but did not put them at ease. The slap of their feet on the wood diminished as they hushed their footsteps.

After walking inland a good three-quarters of a mile, they came to the side door of the lodgelike main house. Sam moved along the windows, ignoring the door for the moment. Someone was on the floor and judging from the alabaster-white skin of her legs, it was the housekeeper fitted with a gray bag over her torso and trussed up so that she couldn’t move. Beside her was a man in well-worn blue jeans—maybe the handyman—then next to him another groundsman and beyond him another woman—a cook or housekeeper.

“Someone’s been busy,” Sam said. In a couple of minutes they had broken the door and were inside untying people.

“Where is Jason?” Anna said.

“They didn’t come back from their walk. The men must have taken them,” the first housekeeper answered.

“How many were there?”

“We saw several,” the man spoke up. “Maybe six but there were no doubt more.”

“Weapons?”

“All kinda strange guns.”

“Where is Nutka?” Sam could see the worry in Anna’s eyes.

“Still with her family. Coming back this afternoon in time for the massage.”

“Let’s go.” Anna turned to run down the path Jason would have taken.

Sam grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Plan. Remember the plan.”

“The plan is we go look for him.”

“Whoever did this is dangerous,” Sam said.

“That’s why we’re in a hurry.”

“Just a minute.” Sam turned to the staff members. “I’d stay here if I were you.”

Sam started walking. “This trail here?” he asked Anna, pointing to a route just above the beach.

“If they were going to the point, that’s where they’d go,” Anna said.

Running down the path would be dangerous, but moving slowly off the path in the brush would be extremely time-consuming; he opted for speed over safety. They went quickly, guns drawn.

Sam slowed at every corner and peered around the nearest available tree, listening intently for any sound. Now they were strung out with at least thirty feet between them, winding along the base of the mountainside through the thick foliage and dense new-growth trees, over the small footbridges, through the mint-green clover, all the way feeling completely vulnerable to ambush. When they had covered about half the distance to the point, Sam thought he heard something. They were in an unusually dense thicket. He raised a hand for the others to stop and crept forward by himself. There was a muffled scream and he guessed what he would find.

Sam looked back at Anna and held up his hand, knowing her tendency to charge headlong. As quietly as possible he stepped off the trail to the right and began a slow circle. The others remained in place. Forcing himself to be patient, Sam listened and looked with every step. Whoever was doing the muffled yelling could be victim or bait or both.

After he had circled ahead of the sound he moved slowly toward it. He found the two bodies trussed on the ground—helpless. One of them was screaming, out of control and hyperventilating badly. Still, it could be a trap, so he retreated into the forest and came full circle.

“There are two men on the trail,” he told Anna. “From their builds neither is your brother.

“They sound in agony.”

“It’s their fear.”

“Then let’s go.”

“I’m sure it’s Roberto.”

“So?”

“We could learn something.”

She studied him, and then he could see that his idea was dawning on her. “That’s inhumane. I am ashamed of you that you would even say such a thing.”

“Okay. But remember it’s your brother’s life. Now I want you to bear with me.”

Sam nodded at T.J., who got in front of Anna.

“Please, just stay here for a minute.”

Anna shot around T.J. and Sam grabbed her.

“I swear to God I will handcuff you to a tree.”

With that, some of the fire went out of her eyes.

“Okay, but I’m going with you.”

“On this, with your brother’s life, there is no plan B.”

He waited while the moans down the trail continued.

“No plan B,” Anna said.

Just around the bend they came upon the two figures.

Sam knelt down near Roberto’s thrashing head.

“Roberto,” he whispered. The head slowed. “Roberto.”

“Help me,” he shrieked, hoarse and breathless.

“I will. You can get up and be free, but first you have to tell me some things.”

“Please, please, please!” He was hysterical and barely rational. Sam reached down and ran the zipper halfway up, providing a little airway.

“Relax. I’m not letting you out until you relax.”

The man whimpered and cried, nearly incoherent, but his breathing slowed.

“Okay, Roberto, now all you have to do is tell me the truth. And I will let you up.”

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly it was as if the old Roberto had come back. Sam sensed resistance.

“I thought you had learned. I guess not.” Sam reached out and closed the zipper. Roberto’s body jumped as if Sam had hit him with 120 volts. Suddenly he was screaming and shaking. T.J. winced and looked at Sam, obviously worried, pointing to his heart Anna bent, her lips low to Sam’s ear.

“Please, Sam, I can’t take this.”

Sam loosened the zipper; maybe he was pushing it. If it didn’t work this time, he would let the man up.

“Roberto, I think we may just leave. Up here somebody may find you. Or when we move you off the trail they may not.”

“What do you want?” He became incoherent. He was crying and had defecated in his pants.

“Tell me where Jason is.”

Roberto talked.

Sam pulled the zipper down; he supposed Roberto could see light. When they had established that he knew nothing of Jason’s whereabouts, that Jason had been taken, Sam knew they should move quickly.

“Who shot the rocket at my boat?”

“Jason.”

“Were you with him?”

Silence. Sam reached for the zipper.

“I was.”

“What did Grace Technologies do to Jason’s brain?”

“He had a rare disease and they experimented. I don’t understand it. Something about changing his brain cells. Chellis and his scientists understand it. Chellis knows how to make Jason paranoid so he stays close to home. The massages help his symptoms—it’s the oil, but I don’t know how.”

After a few more questions it became obvious that Roberto didn’t understand the mechanisms involved. They would need to go elsewhere.

Ten people or more had kidnapped Jason. Probably across the island. Sam released Roberto and listened while he cursed.

“Panic is your worst enemy, Roberto. If you don’t tell Chellis, I won’t. Seems to me you ought to be on our side.”

“Fuck you,” Roberto screamed, no doubt imagining the fury of Chellis and the death of his own career. Now that he was up and looking at them, he surely realized that they would have freed him with or without the confession. Humiliation fused with anger made him hateful, and Sam could see it in his eyes.

“Relax. Any one of us could have had your reaction. Once the mind starts flying free you never know where it’s going to come down. You just flew a little further than most.”

“You are despicable,” Anna said to Roberto. T.J. stepped out of the brush and handed Sam a filterless cigarette butt with a small gold insignia stamped on one end.

“Middle Eastern,” Sam said.

“We should chase them in the helicopter,” Roberto said.

“Very handy, a helicopter. A beanie on a coffin. They’ll blow it out of the sky about the way you blew my boat out of the water.”

“Jason did that,” Roberto corrected him.

“While you watched,” Anna said.

“Well, I’m sending the chopper anyway.”

Sam just nodded; he would try to take advantage of the idiocy.

“We’ll need boots, water, warm clothing, preferably wool or moisture-wicking, a lighter, water, knife, and some fully automatic weapons if you have them.”

“We have the weapons.”

“And a rocket launcher?”

“We have one of those as well.”

“Good.” Sam moved off toward the lodge at a jog. “Let’s roll.”

As soon as they started they heard a seaplane circling low and dropping. Sam ran, suspecting that the plane was to pick up the intruders at Lodge Bay. If they had not done so already, at any minute the intruders would discover that their plans were being interrupted. Even as he thought it he heard the approaching plane apply power and fly low over the island. It sounded to Sam like a large twin-engine seaplane. No doubt the intruders had gone back toward the lodge, then turned and gone overland toward the other side of the island.

It took only five minutes to get everything on Sam’s list. They grabbed some food bars for good measure and some of Nutka’s salmon jerky.

“I suppose you want to go with us,” Sam said to Anna.

“I can act the part of a commando. My performance will be convincing.”

Sam allowed his eyes to tell her she was a dope.

“Give her a gun,” Sam said. She snatched an M-16 from T.J. It was made of camouflage-colored plastic and steel.

“Can you use it?”

Anna popped out the clip, pulled back the bolt, and checked the chamber. With a business like
ka-chink
she replaced the clip.

Sam nodded his approval.

Sam, Anna, the men, and Roberto left the lodge before Sam said what was on his mind.

“I want to have the pilot take us to the far side of the island in the Beaver. Roberto, you can come when your helicopter arrives.

“The Beaver will be there before the overland troops. It will come in fast and low and land. Still, it may get shot up. These kinds of people are going to have a lot of firepower.”

“Okay, I’m going,” Anna said.

“It will hold five. But you really shouldn’t go.”

“Why the hell not?” Anna said.

“Death. Horrible disfigurement. Those good enough reasons?”

“I’ll risk it.”

“What if it increases the risk for the rest of us?” Sam let his serious eyes make his point.

“You can’t make me stay, Sam.”

Sam hesitated, gauging her, then took her aside. “Look, I’ll spend my time worrying about you and I won’t be as effective. Neither will the others. T.J. will be busy trying to save you.”

“Sam, don’t do this to me. I can shoot.”

“I’m not taking you. You’re obsessed with your brother—you don’t think straight.”

“How are you gonna stop me?”

“We’re wasting critical time.” She locked eyes with him and he knew he had a problem. Her hand went into her purse and she came out with a satellite phone. She unfolded the antenna.

“I gotta go,” he said. “Keep the gun. You may need it. Go in the house with the others.”

Anna said nothing, but she knifed him with her look.

Sam turned and trotted to the dock with T.J., who had been a few paces back and was listening.