stereo; there were statues in marble and bronze; there were fish tanks that looked like they’d come from the Monterey Bay Aquarium. There were four leather couches and two armchairs; past the living room Henry could see a dining room table and eight matching chairs that must have cost half of Arnold’s gross yearly salary.
But there was one way in which the two Svaco households were identical. Because everything Arnold owned was smashed and scattered around the floor.
And Arnold lay in the middle of it all, dead.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gus’ fingernails dug into the soft leather of his armchair. His muscles were screaming with pain, but he would not relax his hands. Not until the chopper lifted off again and took him out of this hellhole.
“That’s a good grip you’ve got there,” Shawn said. “If you apply a little more pressure, maybe your flesh will bond with the leather of the seat and you’ll become one with the chopper. Then they’ll never get you out.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Gus said.
“But if you’re going to expend all this energy to stay on board, you might as well wait until you actually need to,” Shawn said. “Like when the door is open.”
Gus lifted his eyes from their firm fix on the floor and saw that the door hadn’t slid open yet. None of the lawyers had gotten out of their seats. In fact, they were all still jabbing away at their miniature keyboards.
Gus forced his fingers to relax and felt a wave of relief run up both arms. “They don’t seem worried that they’re about to be dumped out in the wilderness.”
“Which is a sign that we shouldn’t be, either,” Shawn said. “They know Rushton a lot better than we do. He probably plays this kind of prank on them all the time. We’ll sit here for a few minutes, and then once everyone has had a chance to panic, we’ll lift off and head to our real destination.”
Gus nodded. That made sense. It was the only thing that made sense. Because the other lawyers were just sitting there working away, as if they knew enough not to be alarmed. He loosened his death grip on the armrest a little more and felt the blood tingling painfully back into his fingers.
Until there was a thump from outside and the helicopter rocked on its skids. “What was that?” he demanded.
Shawn glanced over Gus and out the window. “Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing,” Gus said. “I know what nothing feels like. It feels like nothing. That felt like something. Which means it couldn’t be nothing.”
“It’s just the pilot,” Shawn said, checking the view out the window again.
“He’s leaving?” Gus said. His breath was coming in short gasps now. “The pilot is abandoning his helicopter? How can we get out of here? Does anyone know how to fly a chopper?”
“Relax,” Shawn said. “He’s not leaving. He’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Unpacking.”
Gus forced himself to turn his chair so that he was facing the window. The pilot had opened a cargo door at the back of the chopper and was pulling out a series of large backpacks.
“What are those for?” Gus said, not wanting to hear the answer from Shawn any more than he would accept it from his own brain.
“I believe they’re called backpacks,” Shawn said. “You strap them on your back and carry things in them.”
“Maybe you do,” Gus said, his fingers reflexively clutching the armrest again. He risked another glance out the window. The pilot was closing the cargo door. At his feet was a line of eight backpacks: seven made of beige nylon stretched over metal frames, the last in blindingly bright green.
And still the rest of the lawyers didn’t seem to notice that anything out of the ordinary was happening. They kept texting away. Until the flat-screen went on in an explosion of static.
Oliver Rushton smiled warmly at them from the safety of the TV. Gus felt an irrational burst of rage. He wanted to reach into the screen and pull Rushton through, wheelchair and all, and leave him on this desolate mountaintop.
“Greetings, friends,” Rushton said. “I understand that the area you’re in is one of the loveliest parts of California. I wish I could be there with you today.”
“I wish you were here instead of me,” Gus muttered.
“It’s a constant challenge for me to come up with fun, creative, exciting retreats for this team, but I think you’ll agree that this is the best one ever,” Rushton said. “Because this retreat will not only test your strength, your intelligence, and your stamina, but it will also forge new bonds of friendship and trust. Here at the top of this mountain you are all individuals with your own agendas. By the time you reach the bottom, you will all be a family.”
“I had a family once,” Gwendolyn said. “I didn’t like it much.”
“So she auctioned off their organs and sold the rest off for medical research,” Balowsky said.
“I made a sacrifice,” Gwendolyn said, pointedly refusing to waste a glance at her colleague. “I chose to put my career-I chose to put the needs of this firm-over my own personal life. And that remains my intent. I want to work for this firm, I want to work for you, Oliver. But I don’t need these people to be my family.”
“I understand,” Rushton said.
Gus had been assuming that Rushton’s appearance was a pretaped video. But of course he was speaking to them live via videoconferencing. Which was excellent news, because it would give Gus a chance to plead his way out of this.
“But a firm can’t work as a group of individuals,” Rushton continued. “You need to be able to function as a team. That’s why I’ve designed this retreat. Because, as I said, by the time you reach the bottom of the mountain, you will be a family. Or you will all be dead.”
Chapter Thirty
For the first time, the other lawyers looked as if they’d realized this wasn’t just another bit of eccentricity from their boss. Maybe it was the way Rushton had emphasized that last word. Or maybe it was the sound of the helicopter door sliding open and the pilot stepping into the cabin. Possibly it was the sight of the gun holstered on the pilot’s thigh. Whatever the reason, Rushton now had everyone’s undivided attention.
“Sorry if that sounded a little melodramatic,” Rushton chuckled. “But these mountains are harsh, and nature is unforgiving. You will all have to learn to work together if you want to find your way down.”
“Or we could just use our GPS,” Gwendolyn said, raising her iPhone the way Tanya Roberts had wielded her sword against the temple guards to free King Zed.
“Yes, you could,” Rushton said. “I would prefer that you didn’t. But of course I can’t stop you. When this call is over, you’ll all step out of the helicopter, and there you will find your backpacks. Inside each pack is everything you will need for the five-day journey down the mountain, and supplies for one more day just in case you decide to take a little extra time to enjoy the scenery.”
“I don’t mind a little nature hike.” It was Savage, and indeed his muscles seemed to be on the verge of rippling right out of his body in anticipation. “But as much as I love my Bruno Maglis, they don’t provide a lot of stability, ankle protection, or waterproofing. I might as well be barefoot. And that leaves me in substantially better shape than the two women who are wearing heels.”
“That’s an excellent point,” Rushton said. “And it’s been taken care of. Hector”-at this point, the pilot gave them all a brief nod to introduce himself-“has not only suitable hiking shoes, but clothes as well for all of you. Once this call is terminated, you will each be given a few moments alone to change.”
There was a low murmur in the cabin. To his shock, Gus thought it sounded like gratitude, when it should have been the angry mutterings of the mob about to storm the castle with torches and pitchforks.
