John ducked under the edge of the wing and continued to back away. “The compliment would mean more if you hadn’t tried to kill me earlier.”
“Oh, that little thing. It was business, not personal. I admire your capabilities, but studying you convinced me you would never let me walk off with Ms. Maxwell without making an attempt to get her back.”
“You studied well,” John said and backed out from under the wing.
The whine of the port engine was loud, and he could feel its intake drawing air across his head.
Dewatre raised his voice above the roar of the engine. “That’s far enough, John. If you don’t stand still, I’m afraid I’ll just have to shoot you again.”
“I figured you’re planning to do that anyway.”
Dewatre shrugged. “Ten minutes ago I would have.”
“Oh? And what’s changed?”
“I saw that you and Ms. Maxwell have used the prototype. You’ve configured the communicators to your brain waves.”
“So?”
Dewatre stopped at the wing and rested his gun hand on its surface. “Well, I hate to give anything away, but my information is that each device can only be configured once. Like the old CD-ROMs, they can be written, but not erased and then rewritten. Therefore, if we want to study their operation before we build our own we will have to study you and Ms. Maxwell here.”
“Really? That’s interesting, and then I suppose I can draw my gun and shoot you instead.”
Dewatre actually smiled at him. “I hardly think so. In that case, I would have to shoot you. The scientists would just have to wait until they get one built. It shouldn’t take but a year or two.”
John stared at the dark opening in the Glock’s barrel. At fifteen feet, John had no doubt that Dewatre had the sights centered between his eyes.
The sirens had drawn close enough for John to be able to hear them above the jet engine that was four feet from his head. “But even if I go with you, how are you going to get away? The police will be here in a moment.”
“The police aren’t a problem. My diplomatic passport will keep them from interfering with our take off.”
“Just as long as we’re off the ground before Holdren gets here, eh?”
“Oui. Holdren can be a problem.”
John held up the heavy metal case. “All for this. You really want it bad don’t you?”
“My government does. Me, I just obey orders.”
“All right then. Take it.”
John lofted the case upwards, not toward Dewatre, but into the throat of the TFE731-20 turbofan engine.
“No-o-o!” Dewatre screamed, too late.
John ducked under the tail of the Learjet as the heavy case slammed into the intake with the slap of metal on metal.
Then, nothing.
Dewatre’s response turned from dismay to anger and bullets whizzed by John’s feet, ricocheting off the cement floor and whining away into anything that happened to be in their path.
John had his own weapon out and was firing back, not taking the time to aim, just trying to keep Dewatre’s head down while he found cover for himself and Caitlin.
Flashing blue and red lights reflected off the overhead glass panels as the first of the police cars slid to a stop in the open hangar doorway.
John ducked behind a cabinet-size toolbox as the police loudspeaker blared at them.
“This is the police. Drop your weapons!”
Two rounds hit the toolbox as Dewatre made another attempt at finishing what he’d started.
He peered around the edge of the toolbox and saw that Dewatre was at the foot of the Learjet’s stairs and was going inside. He gauged the opening between the hangar doors. The police car only blocked a small portion of the gap. Dewatre might be able to get away if he hurried.
John scanned the wall behind him. An emergency exit was just twenty feet away. Staying low he made for the exit, reached it, and pushed through.
Outside the hangar, the snow still fell, but there was a faint glow to the east.
He could hear more sirens approaching, but they couldn’t do anything to Dewatre even if they arrived in time. Once he was free, he’d track them down, and it would start again. No, John couldn’t let that happen. It had to end with Dewatre here and now.
A luggage carrier sat outside the next hangar. He trotted to it as the whine of the Learjet’s engines increased in pitch. Pulling back the canvas side, John laid Caitlin inside and then dropped the cover back into place.
She’d be as safe there as anywhere.
He ran full out toward the tarmac and reached the corner of the hangar as the nose of the plane turned toward him. The dual landing lights mounted on its nose gear illuminated the snow with a blinding glare. The police weren’t even firing at him. They were letting him get away.
John waited until the cockpit was even with him, Dewatre would be in the left seat, facing the other way, and then made his move. He holstered his gun as he ran for the starboard wing. He leaped and gripped the leading edge with both hands, then pulled himself up.
One of the policemen yelled something, but the roar of the jet’s engines drowned his words. Peering through the portal, he could see Dewatre hadn’t taken the time to reinstall the emergency escape hatch. The plane accelerated down the taxiway. Snow stung his face, and the cold air billowed his jacket. He grabbed one of the small UHF antennas on the top of the cabin and used it to pull himself up.
On top of the cabin, he rested for a moment. The blood loss was starting to tell. Normally this much activity wouldn’t have bothered him, but now he felt like he’d already completed a marathon. Three
