The Search (16 page)

"That you stay here and give us the plane and pilot."

"No deal."

"You've just had that leg operated on. You don't know what kind of conditions we're going to face. What if you get an infection?"

"Then you'd have to take care of me as well as Monty."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Don't be. It won't happen. I won't be a burden." He struggled out of the chair and had to suppress a wince as pain shot through his thigh. "If I am, then I promise I'll stay out of your way. Now, make the call while I go to the bathroom and throw some water on my face."

She stood there, undecided.

"Go call Helen Peabody." He limped toward the bathroom. "You know I'm the best game in town."

"Look at you. You can't even walk without hurting."

"What do you care? Serves me right, doesn't it?"

"I don't want you to lose your damn leg."

"I'll take care of me, and you and Monty take care of the suffering millions of the world. I'd say that's fair." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Wouldn't you?"

She slowly nodded. "You're right. Why should I worry about you?" She turned away and picked up the telephone. "Come if you like. But don't blame me if you get more than you bargained for in Taiwan."

"I won't blame you." He closed the door and leaned against it, fighting the waves of agony. He should take some more painkillers, but he couldn't afford to be fuzzy right now. Once they left Tucson, he could let go for a while. In spite of her toughness, Sarah was a caretaker, and she would find a way to keep him from going if she realized he was hurting like hell. And sick. God, he felt sick. When the pain dulled to a throbbing, he pulled out his phone and called Galen. "I'm at Sarah's cabin, but we're leaving for Taiwan right away. Have you found out anything?"

"Not yet. I'm still tracking Sanchez. Taiwan?"

"It seems there's a mudslide in Taiwan. Her rescue team has been called out. I'm going with them."

"Christ. How do you feel?"

"I just had a bullet cut out of me. Not good."

"I don't envy you."

"Just find Rudzak. Even if he's hurt, I'll bet he's somewhere plotting and planning his next move."

He hung up and closed his eyes, gathering his strength. He'd gotten through the call. He could get through the flight. The trick was blocking the pain, operating on automatic, and not allowing himself to think.

He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

"Nice guy." Susie Phillips sat in the leather seat, her gaze on Logan at the front of the plane, talking to Boyd Medford. "You'd never know he was some kind of tycoon, would you?"

"Look around." Sarah's tone was dry. "I think anyone would be able to hazard a guess by this plane."

"You know what I mean. He's pretty down-to-earth. Have you known him long?"

"Not long."

"Then he must be a good guy to volunteer to do this for us. Particularly after he had that accident."

"Did he tell you he'd had an accident?"

"No, but it was, wasn't it?"

Sarah changed the subject. "How's Dinah been doing?"

"Fine. But she misses the searches. She looks so mournful when I take Donegan here out to my pickup." She reached down and stroked her German shepherd's head. "She doesn't understand that retiring after years of service is a reward, not a punishment." She glanced at Monty. "I know Monty's nowhere near that point, but it will be hard for him too. Maybe more than any other dog in the group. You should think about it. You'll need time to train another dog."

Sarah didn't want to think about it. She couldn't imagine working with another dog after all these years, and the thought of Monty growing old hurt her. "There's plenty of time to think about that." She rose to her feet. "Logan's looking a little tired. I think I'll go see if he needs anything."

Susie nodded. "Good idea." She took a paperback book out of her tote. "I'll see if I can read myself to sleep. It's going to be a long flight, and I'd love to spend it unconscious."

"So would I." Sarah could feel weariness dragging at every muscle as she walked down the aisle, stepping over dogs and carry-on baggage on the way to Logan. She couldn't wait until she was able to curl up and sleep as the other members of the team were doing. Actually, there was nothing to prevent her. Logan didn't need her. He could take care of himself.

If he was sensible. But if he'd been sensible, he'd have stretched out on one of the couches when the jet had left Tucson an hour before. Instead, he'd continued talking to Boyd, listening politely and growing more wan and exhausted-looking by the minute.

Men.

Boyd looked up and smiled as she stopped before them. "Hey, Sarah. Pretty nice digs, huh? Remember that cargo plane we hopped to Barat?"

"How could I forget?" She gazed directly at Logan. "You look like death warmed over. Go to bed."

"In a few minutes. Boyd was just telling me about the rescue operation in Nicaragua."

"He can tell you when you wake up." She turned to Boyd. "I'm kicking you out of here. He should have that leg elevated. He probably didn't tell you he had an operation yesterday."

"Hell, no." Boyd stood up. "I'm gone. See you later, Logan."

Logan nodded and watched Boyd walk down the aisle and settle down by Susie. "You know him well?"

"Years."

"I thought as much. You can be rude only to very old friends."

"You'd have been better off if you'd been rude to him. He's a great guy, but he talks a lot when he's not on a search."

"I liked him." He smiled. "And I'm fully capable of being as rude as you, Sarah. He interested me. He was giving me an insight into your work."

"And?"

"It was like a glimpse into hell. Intriguing to hear about, but I wouldn't want to live there."

"You don't have to live there. I do."

"Not unless you--"

"Stop talking. I'm dead tired, and the last thing I wanted was to have to run interference between you and my friends because you were too macho to admit you were in pain. Now, will you go and lie down so that I can get some rest?"

"Sure." He struggled to his feet and stood swaying with one hand on the back of the chair. "If you'll give me a minute to get the kinks out. I've stiffened up."

He probably just didn't want to admit that the long walk down the aisle was intimidating in his present state. "Do you want me to help you?"

He grimaced. "You won't let me get away with anything, will you?"

"Pride's pretty dumb if you're hurting."

"No one can ever accuse you of mincing words. Two minutes. If I'm not okay then, I'll let you sweep me up in a fireman's lift and carry me to my couch. Tell me why you hate mudslides so much."

"I told you, they're death searches. In an earthquake you have more of a chance of finding air pockets. When a mountain of mud comes down on you, you suffocate."

"Like a snow avalanche?"

She shook her head. "Snow is easy because it's porous, scent travels through it. Mud is different, the scent is sealed inside. It's almost impossible for a dog to pick up the cone. And the dog thinks he can walk on mud, which leads to trouble. He can get stuck, get carried away, or go under, and sometimes you can't get to him to help him. You have to watch him every minute."

Her words were shooting out like machine-gun bullets. "You can't search alone because you have to use one person as a spotter in case a searcher gets in trouble. And that happens frequently. Just getting a boot full of mud can be a death sentence. A handler has to make sure her rubber boots are well fitting and duct-taped on. Plus, it's still raining in Taiwan, and we can't search until the rain stops because the mud can shift at any time. So you sit and wait while the victims' relatives stare and curse at you. Is that enough problems for you?"

"Shit."

"Exactly. Are you sure you don't want to stay on board the plane instead of going to the village?"

"I'm sure." His gaze wandered over the occupants of the plane. "Nice people, but they must be as crazy as you to be willing to go through that. I'm afraid I was a little out of it when you introduced me. Tell me about them."

Her gaze followed his. "The fiftyish man with the black Lab is Hans Kniper, he's a vet and dog trainer. The small young man asleep by the window is George Leonard. He works at a supermarket in Tucson and trains dogs on the weekends. You met Boyd Medford, our team leader. I guess I know him best. He was with the ATF K9 unit before he bailed and bought a ranch. Theo Randall is the blond man with the black-and-tan German shepherd. He's an accountant with a luxury hotel. Susie's a stay-at-home mom with two kids and four German shepherds."

"None of you have much in common."

"Except a love of dogs and the willingness to train them to help. That's enough of a bond."

"Monty's the only golden retriever. Three German shepherds, two Labs, and Monty. Are some breeds better suited than others for this kind of work?"

"You'd get an argument from every owner on the team. I think the only true qualifications are intelligence, the search instinct, and a good nose. Are you ready to move now?"

"Slowly." He started carefully down the aisle. "Very slowly. Good night, Sarah."

She watched him walk haltingly, stopping for a moment to step around Susie's dog, Donegan. Susie looked up from her book, and he exchanged a few words with her.

Lie down, you idiot. You don't have to charm everyone on the damn plane.

He had gone past Susie and was sitting down on the couch. He took a vial of pills from his pocket and swallowed a couple with a glass of water. Painkillers? If they were, he should have taken them before. At that moment, when he wasn't aware he was being watched, his expression was haggard . . . and tormented. She could understand the haggardness--but torment? What devils were driving Logan?

Monty got to his feet, walked stiffly to Logan's couch, and plopped down in front of it. He could always sense illness and pain, which was only another signal that Logan had no business on this trip.

And Sarah would have no business on this mission either if she didn't stop worrying about a man who was too stubborn to worry about himself and get some rest. She sat down in the chair Logan had vacated and pushed it back until it was almost fully reclining.

Sleep. Don't think about Logan.

Don't think about that suffocating mud.

Taiwan would come soon enough.

God, she hoped it would stop raining.

The sun was shining brightly and there was not a cloud in the sky. All was right in Dodsworth, Rudzak thought with amusement.

"Why did you want to come here?" Duggan asked. "I told you it was too well protected to hit right now."

"I just wanted to see it." He gazed at the small brick building surrounded by ivy-covered stone walls. "What do the townspeople think is going on here?"

"Agricultural research."

Rudzak chuckled. "Trust Logan to pick a lie that would appeal to America's heartland." He turned away. "I suppose he's reinforced security?"

"Inside. Outside. Patrols, surveillance cameras, sensors, and personnel checks."