The Monarch (33 page)

 

PART SEVEN

Thursday

 

50

Tartaruga Island

6:30
A.M.
Local Time

“T
HERE IT IS,”
Thomas said. “Off to the left.”

Jonathan leaned forward and looked down at the seemingly endless sea. At first he couldn't see it, then he spotted the foam outline around Tartaruga as the ocean lapped at the green and brown growth on its surface. It was hard for Jonathan to believe he'd spent hours down there, never mind that his daughter was even now below him.

“Circle around and make a low pass,” Jonathan said. “I want to see what we're dealing with.”

“Okay. Just let me swing away to reduce our airspeed,” Thomas said. After heading away from the island for a bit, Thomas began to bank the plane and head back. They were moving slower now and were much lower. Jonathan could see the white caps on the waves below.

“Lew! We're doing a flyover. Have a look,” he called back into the cabin.

“Roger,” Lew said. He had his duster off and was sitting on one of the small tables while Emily dabbed at the wound on the back of his neck with some cotton. The first aid kit was open on the table beside him. They both turned and looked out the window. Jonathan could tell there was something real happening between them. He was glad for Lew, he just hoped it wouldn't get in the way.

As the plane turned, they got a slow, full view of the island. It looked like a turtle, which was probably where it got its name. Near the tail, a bald swath cut across the green canvas covering the island like someone had taken an electric razor and made one pass from beach to beach. It was the paved landing strip. A few small mountains rose up where the apex of the turtle's shell would be, though Jonathan could see nothing there besides jungle coverage. At the head was what looked like a dock, vacant of boats.

They swung around the back of the island and Jonathan saw the complex and the courtyard where the exchange would take place. He couldn't see any ­people, but he could make out the buildings. There were two smaller outbuildings and one larger, flat edifice with a hangar attached to the back corner. The hangar was almost three times the height of the complex, but Jonathan knew the most impressive part was underground. He figured the hangar was where they'd first taken him.

“It's huge,” Lew called from the cabin. “You say it goes four levels down?”

“Five,” Jonathan corrected, counting Nathan's vault and the generators.

“It's a good thing you know where Natalie's being held. If we had to search that place we'd be toast. No way could we do it in just an hour,” Lew said.

“Okay, take us in,” Jonathan said to Thomas. He walked back into the cabin. “You guys ready?”

“Just about,” Lew said, shrugging and wincing back into his duster.

“You're sure you don't want a gun?” Jonathan asked Emily, though he pretty much knew what the answer would be.

“I'm sure,” she said.

“Okay. Are we all clear on what we're supposed to do? If you have any questions or doubts, now's the time—­”

“Jonny,” Lew said, putting his hand on his arm. “It's going to be fine. In and out like grease through a goose. We'll be long gone before the attack gets here. Just please tell me we're not really saving this psycho's girlfriend.” Jonathan looked over his shoulder to be sure Thomas wasn't listening. He was busy bringing the plane in for a landing. Jonathan turned back and shook his head no.

“Atta boy.”

“We better get our seats for the landing,” Jonathan said. “Everyone but you, of course.” Lew smiled. The stakes were high—­higher than they'd ever been before—­and victory, despite what Lew said, was not even close to a foregone conclusion, but Lew looked like he was having the time of his life. Jonathan recalled that he'd always looked like this on jobs when things were at their worst. He gave Lew Thomas's cell phone number so they could stay in touch when the shit hit the fan, if need be.

“See you soon,” Lew said, shaking Jonathan's hand. Jonathan headed back up to the cockpit. By the time he strapped himself in and looked back to the cabin, he could see Lew bent over out of sight by the chair where Emily was sitting. Lew stood up and saw Jonathan watching him. Lew winked and headed out to the cargo hold, closing the door to the bathroom behind him.

The wheels touched down with a slight thud and squeal, the nose gear bouncing down a moment later. Now they were racing down the short runway at incredible speed, trees on both sides of the plane smearing past. Jonathan felt himself thrust forward as the brakes caught. When they were almost halfway out of runway, Thomas flipped a switch sending a chime through the plane. It was Lew's signal. A few seconds later they felt the plane rock slightly as Lew threw open the door in the cargo hold. The plane had slowed considerably, but it was still moving at a good clip. They couldn't see the rear of the plane, so they had to have faith that Lew had made it.

If they had waited any longer, the security cameras at the east end of the airstrip would have picked up Lew rolling out of the plane and scurrying into the jungle.

The plane came to a full stop and Thomas powered down the engines. Through the window, Jonathan could see a single small building at the edge of the jungle near a dirt road that led over the rise and disappeared into the trees. Parked by the building was a beat-­up, military-­issue Humvee.

“Now we just—­wait!” Thomas said, but Jonathan was already swinging the pistol at him. He hit him in the jaw and knocked him cold.

“Now we're even,” Jonathan said. He tied Thomas up and then he and Emily made their way to the Humvee with their prize.

There was a note pinned under one of the wiper blades. Emily took it and read it aloud.

“Follow the road to the clearing and wait. Do not enter the complex or your daughter dies,” she said. Emily looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. They got into the Humvee and looked down the runway to where Lew had jumped out. There was no movement down there. Jonathan took solace in the fact that there wasn't a body lying on the tarmac.

“He's fine,” Jonathan said as he started the engine.

“I know,” Emily said with false bravado, hugging the cryocase in her lap.

Jonathan put the vehicle in gear and they bounced along the rough road, disappearing into the jungle.

6:45
A.M.

L
ARA SEETHED AS
she stood near the ladder to level four, rage flowing hot through her veins like the steam racing through the pipes surrounding her. Sweat covered her body and the humidity had turned her hair into a white mass of tangles and kinks. She'd passed thirsty about an hour ago and was having trouble coming up with enough saliva to moisten her cracked lips. She checked her watch and realized there was no more time left for the hunt.

Nathan's order to take Sophia and the little girl alive had been frustrating. She'd hoped Sophia would stick her head out and an exhausted guard would ignore his orders and shoot her. Several times, preferably. It would have tied everything up neat and tidy and Lara would've gotten what she wanted without having to disobey her orders.

The only reason Nathan wanted Sophia alive was so he could get the research she'd no doubt taken with her, but a bullet or two to the head wouldn't harm whatever she was carrying. Lara imagined Nathan's beaming face—­metaphorically speaking, since his facial muscles didn't move noticeably anymore—­when she handed him the research, along with the news that Sophia had been tragically killed.

But no, Sophia couldn't cooperate. She had to stay hidden with the little brat. And any second now, her father would call Lara on the radio and the game would be over.

Lara kicked a stand of pipes in frustration. There was no point searching anymore. They'd been through the tunnels repeatedly and found nothing. Somehow she'd gotten past them. She was probably in the jungle by now. Lara was just about to double the guards at the helipad when her radio squawked with her father's simulated voice.

“Go ahead,” she said into the radio.

“They're here. Are the men in position?”

They weren't. She'd pulled the shooters off the roof to help with the search.

“On their way,” Lara said.

“Did you find them?” Nathan asked. It was a rhetorical question, but he wouldn't let up until she said it out loud.

“No. I'll keep some men searching, but—­”

“Never mind. Just get up here. If you can find your way,” Nathan said. Lara squeezed her eyes shut.

“Yes, Father,” she said.

“S
ON OF A
bitch,” Lew said to the corpses.

The smell had assaulted him as soon as he'd entered the hangar. The stench wasn't new to him, not after Iraq. It was a long time ago, but a million years wouldn't be enough time to cleanse his palate of that smell.

Inside a storage room off to the side of the hangar's massive, wire-­strewn interior, he'd found them. Over a dozen dead, all in lab coats.

Lew ran across the expanse to the long metal staircase leading up to a series of windows. He ran up the stairs and then along the balcony to an opening between the windows. Once inside, he headed straight for stairs that led to the roof.

It was vacant. He crouched by the door and checked his watch. Just over half an hour before the attack, whatever form it was going to take. The sound of a vehicle echoed from the jungle. Lew saw the open-­top Humvee come bouncing out with Emily and Jonathan inside. After they entered the courtyard they drove out of sight. He'd have to get closer to the ledge to see any more.

A noise on the other side of the door stopped him and he pressed back flat against the wall. A few seconds later, the door opened, and two armed guards, each with a rifle over his shoulder, came out. They crouched low and duckwalked toward the edge of the roof.

Shooting wasn't an option, so Lew put his gun away and just walked up behind them.

“Lose something?”

The guards looked at each other and then spun around, trying to pull their rifles off their shoulders.

Lew focused on the bigger of the two, punching him in the throat and the eye. He went down hard and wouldn't be getting up for a while. In the meantime, the other guard got his rifle free from his shoulder and swung the butt toward Lew's head. He caught it with one hand and kicked the guard's feet out from under him. The guard went down hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him. As he gasped for breath, Lew pulled the rifle free and slammed the butt into the side of his head. The guard grunted and then stopped gasping.

They had handcuffs on their belts, which Lew used to hook them to some pipes by the door. Then he took the firing pins out of the rifles and tossed the useless weapons on the ground After scoping out the area, Lew headed back in.

On the third level, Lew found the room where they'd been keeping Natalie. It was empty. He looked under the bed in case she was hiding and found one of her drawings.

“Son of a—­”

Voices sounded in the hallway.

Lew eased up to the doorway and peered out into the hall. A grate lay open and Lew watched two men and a woman with wild white hair climb out.
What the hell?

“Head downstairs and work your way up again. Find Sophia and the girl,” the woman said.

“Alive?” one of guards asked.

“We need the child alive for the exchange. Nobody says she has to be unharmed,” the woman said.

Natalie's alive!

“And Sophia?” the guard asked.

“I need what she has on her. If an accident happens, so be it. Understand?”

“Yes, ma'am!” The guards practically saluted before heading off down the hall. Lew eased back into the shadows as the woman passed by. He wanted to reach out and wring her neck, but there'd be time for that later. When he was sure she was gone, he called Jonathan.

“You survived, did you?” Jonathan said when he answered.

“Barely,” Lew said. “From now on I only jump out of airplanes that are ten thousand feet off the ground.”

Lew told Jonathan about the bodies he'd found, Natalie not being in the room, and then about the conversation between the woman and the guards.

“Yeah, that's Lara, all right,” Jonathan said after Lew described her. “Piece of work, huh?”

“We're doing the Aussie a favor by leaving her here,” Lew said. “What should I do, now? Look for Natalie?”

“No, you'll run into guards for sure. Get back up here and cover us for the exchange.”

“Okay,” Lew said. He always said that when Jonathan gave him instructions he didn't like. Apologizing later was quicker than arguing.

“Lew,” Jonathan said. “I mean it. Get back up here. We don't have time to be looking for you and Natalie when we're done here.”

“Of course. Be right up,” Lew said, hanging up the phone. He looked down the hall at the grate Lara and her guards had emerged from. Why were they in there? He checked his watch and then hurried over to it, slipping inside the complex's tunnel system.

7:00
A.M.

“D
AMN IT,”
J
ONATHAN
said under his breath.

If only there was a way to reach Sophia and
—­

He looked at the phone. At
Thomas's
phone.

Jonathan quickly scrolled through Thomas's contact list, and sure enough, he found her number. He selected “Sophia” and pressed send. The phone rang with a soft
brrr
in his ear. Then again. And again. Then he realized if she had Natalie, Thomas was probably the last person she wanted to speak to. He quickly switched from the phone app to messaging and sent a text:

Sophia, it's Jonathan calling. Pick up!

Then he called her again. This time it rang only once.

“Jonathan?” Sophia's voice said on the line. She sounded exhausted.