He saw no sign of the fourth man. Unless he was a lot more agile than John was, he’d have to hoof it out to the road in order to get back. That gave John a moment of freedom.
The man he’d clubbed tried to rise. John clubbed him again, and he decided to sleep instead.
John rolled him over and patted him down. He had a wallet and a badge holder in an inner coat pocket. John shoved both items in one of his pockets, and then was suddenly unable to control himself any longer.
He emptied his guts over the prone man. He couldn’t stop until there was nothing left but dry heaves. John wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, coughed once, and spit out a foul taste.
His minute was almost up. Time to get moving or he’d have another killer to handle. He took an Uzi carbine from the front seat of the Suburban and a satchel of 30 round magazines. John stopped long enough to take the driver’s Uzi from his corpse.
It didn’t make sense, but the puking seemed to help. John reached the Jeep without needing to stop to catch himself. He slammed the rear hatch closed and climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life. John threw the transmission into reverse, backed around the Suburban, shifted into drive, and accelerated toward the road.
When he turned toward town, his headlights lit a figure climbing onto the pavement. John aimed the Cherokee at him as the man raised his gun. For an instant, John thought he’d try to shoot, and then the man dove back off the road, and disappeared into the night as the Jeep thundered past.
John turned his head as the man disappeared from the road. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and turned it toward him as he accelerated. Blood matted the hair on the left side of his head. Some of it had begun to dry, but it was renewed by a continual seep from the remains of his ear and from a tear in the side of his scalp. For the first time since he’d been shot, he noticed that sounds reached him oddly. The bullet that had taken off part of his ear must have done something to the inner ear also unless the ear canal was just full of blood. There wasn’t time to clean up the mess and find out just now. He had to locate Caitlin before Dewatre shot her too.
He slowed and turned toward town onto Black Forest road. His guess was that Dewatre would either take her to a safe house for questioning or to the airport so he could get her out of the country. There was a French consulate in Denver, but he didn’t think the French government would want to be too obvious about their involvement. It was one thing to have DGRG spies working in an ally’s country, but quite another to kidnap one of their citizens and take them onto consulate property.
John turned and spotted the canvas bag he’d left on the floor of the back seat. He stretched back to get it and was rewarded with a fresh stab of pain from his upper back.
“Damn sonofabitch!”
Refusing to let the pain stop him, John clutched the bag and dragged it into the front seat. The movement gave him a sticky feeling beneath his shirt. That wasn’t good. He’d thought his back was just tender from taking a round in the Kevlar vest, but sticky meant blood. What had Dewatre been using? Teflon bullets? Maybe even those solid copper bullets the French had produced back in the eighties. He didn’t think they were still available, but government agents would have them if anyone did.
Reaching Powers Boulevard, John slowed and turned toward the airport as he opened the bag. The transceiver was in its own leather case. He pulled it out, flipped back the cover to expose the controls, and turned it on.
“Caitlin. Caitlin can you hear me?” he transmitted.
***
Caitlin was being dragged by the arm across the tarmac toward a hangar when John’s voice sounded inside her head. She stumbled and nearly fell, but Dewatre jerked her to her feet.
“None of that now, Ms. Maxwell, I thought we had an understanding.”
“I slipped, damn you. If you weren’t pulling so hard, I might be able to keep my feet.”
Dewatre had holstered his weapon when they parked the Explorer. He’d warned her that as long as she cooperated, he wouldn’t hurt her.
“John, thank God. I was afraid he’d killed you.”
“He came close. Where are you now?”
“We’re at the airport. Take the old terminal exit off Powers. We’re going into an older hangar. There’s a big sign that says Rocky Air Freight over the doors.”
“All right, I’m crossing Constitution now. I’ll be there in five minutes. Keep me informed on what’s happening.”
“Okay, I’ll try to repeat everything. Are you all right?”
“I’ll live, which is more than I can say for our friend Dewatre when I catch up with him.”
They reached the hangar and went in a small door set in the large hangar doors. “John, that’s what he said you’d do. He said it was why he had to shoot you.”
“Really? I wish I knew how he knows me so well. If I get the chance, I’ll ask him before I kill him.”
Caitlin received no emotion in his transmission. Strange that when they shared so much while touching they only shared words when apart. His words were enough, though. How could
