Don't Look Down
"Close."
"Close, which way?"
"Since he's probably got this under cover with a long rifle, that way." J.T. nodded to the left. "I think we need to split up. I go after the ghost and Pepper, you stay here and watch if anything happens with our friends in the boat."
"No," Lucy said. "We're a team. We're not splitting up."
Wilder was silent for several moments. There was a distinct click as he slid the barrel into the receiver and locked it down. "All right. Got your gun?"
She fumbled with the holster and pulled out the Beretta, feeling about as stupid as she had the last time she'd held it. "Yes."
"Round in the chamber?"
"How can I tell? It's dark." Jesus. It's not like she did this every day. Only when she needed Pepper back. Hold on, honey, she thought.
"Here." J.T. took the gun, did something, and then handed it back. "You got a round in the chamber and the safety is off. So it's hot."
"Right."
"Put it back in the holster, carefully, and take this." J.T. held out his little machine gun. "It's also got a round in the chamber, safety off, set on automatic. You're going to spray a lot of bullets if you pull the trigger, so make sure there's a lot of people you want to shoot in the direction you aim."
"Thank you," Lucy whispered, thinking, I'm gonna trip and take out half the swamp. "But won't you need—"
"I've got this." J.T. held up the long rifle he'd just bolted together.
"Oh, good, yours is bigger." Lucy hefted the submachine gun. "You know, it's damn dark out here." She could hear the voices of Nash and Bryce and Althea, but she couldn't make out what they were saying, except that Nash was furious and Althea was bitching. They must have taken her hostage. Should have thought that one through, boys. She was pretty sure the swamp was not up to Althea's standards.
And the ghost, the fucking ghost had Pepper in this hellhole, all alone in the dark. "Pepper—"
"Ghost wants us over at the boat."
"With Nash?"
"Yep." J.T. got slowly to his feet, the long rifle in his hands. Lucy stood, too, trying desperately not to jar either gun and kill him. The submachine gun, in particular, felt wrong in her hands. Hell, nothing felt right at the moment, except for J.T. at her side.
"Let's go get our girl," J.T. said to her, and Lucy bit back tears.
"I love you, too," she said.
J.T. nodded. "Yeah, I know. Come on." Then he walked up onto the road.
Tyler slowed the ATV, cutting the engine noise, then finally killing it and letting the three-wheeled vehicle roll to a stop. He knew from his recon that he was about a hundred yards short of the rendezvous point.
He slung the Kid over one shoulder and with the other grabbed a bag of gear out of the cargo rack along with his sniper rifle. Then she kicked him, wriggling to get away, and he realized she'd been faking unconsciousness for a while. Fucking stupid kid.
He ran forward in the darkness with her over his shoulder. He could hear the helicopter behind him, in the distance and coming closer, but ahead he could hear voices raised in argument.
Fuck-ups. He halted less than fifty yards from the voices and knelt on the edge of the gravel road and dropped the Kid on the ground. The gag was tight around her mouth and her wide eyes were staring at him. He pulled out a long bayonet from his pack, held it high over his head as the Kid's eyes got even wider, and plunged it down.
Wilder paused as they got to a point just before the boat. He heard a voice raised high in a whine and recognized it immediately from four days of filming: Bryce was complaining about something. There was a glow ahead, but it was still damn dark.
Lucy bumped into him from behind.
"Careful," he whispered.
"Yeah, well, where's BMNT when you need it?"
"About six hours away."
Wilder nudged her and they drew closer to the boat. The glow was from a lantern of some sort, set next to Althea, who was sitting on the engine compartment, swinging her legs and looking into the cockpit. Nash was nowhere in sight, which wasn't good.
Bryce was pulling another of the plastic cases out of the water and onto the berm, floundering in the canal, struggling to hoist the case up. Physical labor. Wilder shook his head as they silently moved closer. I hat was hostage work. Bryce should have kidnapped somebody without a manicure.
They were less than ten feet away when Wilder called out, "Hey, Bryce."
Althea spun around on the fantail, shifting her attention from the cockpit. "J.T.? Is that you?"
"J.T.? J.T.'s here?" Bryce sounded delighted. He was waist deep in swamp water, and his face was turned up, searching the darkness blindly, while he slapped at mosquitoes.
"J.T., have you come to save me?" Althea called.
"Save you?" Bryce said, his whine turned up to eleven. "You're the one with the gun."
Oh, crap, Wilder thought. "Where's Nash?"
Both Althea and Bryce looked into the cockpit of the boat.
"Come on out, Nash," Wilder called. "We're working a trade here."
"Fuck you." Nash's head appeared above the windscreen. "I can't come out because the fucking bitch has got a gun on me."
"Althea?" Lucy said from beside him.
Well, it made more sense than Bryce, Wilder thought. Althea smiled innocently and Wilder could now see her right hand, a pistol in it pointed right at Nash.
"Can we go now?" Bryce asked.
"Poor puppy," Lucy said softly from behind Wilder. "Mary Vanity must be looking really good right about now."
"All we want is Pepper," Wilder called. "Although we'll take Bryce with us while you two work out your… problems."
Lucy's cell phone rang in Wilder's pocket, and he sensed Lucy's jump.
"It's okay," he said, trying not to remember all the firepower she had with the safeties off. He answered the phone. "Where is she?"
"East," the ghost said. "On the road."
Wilder turned and the beam of a flashlight suddenly appeared, shooting up from the swamp to a small figure on the edge of the road: Pepper, crying, her hands cuffed in front of her, a rope going from the cuffs to something pinned in the ground.
"Son of a bitch," Lucy hissed and started forward but Wilder grabbed the back of her shirt and stopped her.
"Wait."
"She's crying." The rage ripped through Lucy's voice and Wilder felt the same, but he knew now was the time to be careful, very careful.
"Trust me," Wilder said, holding the phone tight against his chest so the ghost couldn't hear.
"I trust you," Lucy said, still staring at Pepper. "Now let me go get my kid."
Wilder put the phone to his head. "Let her go, and I'll order the chopper in."
"We had this conversation," the ghost said.
"You know I'm not giving you the chopper before I get the girl," Wilder countered. "Do you have a plan?"
"You're going to—"
Bryce yelped and there was a loud crash as he dropped the box.
Wilder turned to see Bryce, smeared with mud, lying on the top of the berm, the case he had been hauling up split open underneath him, its contents spilled out across the road, packing material and something bright green, which Wilder expected, and bright orange, which he did not.
"That orange thing does nor look like jade," Althea said, moving along the edge of the boat to the berm, forgetting Nash behind her.
"Oh, crap," Wilder said, and even Lucy was still.
Althea had the gun in one hand, the lantern in the other. She reached Bryce and held the lantern up, looking down into the broken box.
She became very still. "What the hell is that?"
Bryce licked his lips, then clambered to his feet, picked up one of the shiny green things, and frowned at it. "I think it's a cucumber salt shaker. With a smiley face. See?" He turned it toward her, and when she didn't smile, he bent over and picked up one of the orange things. "Look. Carrots, too."
We're done, Wilder thought.
Althea let her gun hand drop
. "Want to hear something funny about your jade, Nash?" she called back, her voice savage. "The fucking jade that was going to make all our fortunes? The jade you tried to kill me over1."
Wilder lifted his rifle and touched Lucy's shoulder. "Go get Pepper."
She nodded and was gone, and he was left to cover her, praying that the ghost wouldn't do anything stupid, and that Nash wouldn't take them all out when he realized he'd risked everything for comic cucumbers.
"I think the carrot's the girl," Bryce said, looking down at the pair in his hands, and then Nash made his move.
Lucy ran toward Pepper and the little girl saw her and said, "Aunt Lucy!" as Lucy stumbled and grabbed her, curling around her to shield her. "Almost there, honey."
She tugged on the rope and then began to move the bayonet it was tied to back and forth, trying to work it out of the ground.
"Aunt Lucy," Pepper said again, sobbing, leaning against her, "I'm scared," and Lucy thought, Fucking bastards, and kicked the bayonet with everything she had, and it came out of the dirt, wickedly sharp.
And then all hell broke loose.
As soon as Lucy was moving, Wilder had taken a quick glance over his shoulder, trying to locate Nash, but the stuntman had disappeared. Bad development, Wilder thought.
Althea was still staring at the broken box, but it was clear from her face that she was thinking fast. She took a deep breath. "Okay. I give up." She threw the gun down and held up her hands. "Call the police. I surrender."
"Doesn't work that way, you dumb bitch," Nash said, and Wilder saw him on the roadway behind her, a tall, lean silhouette with that goddamn fast-draw rig on his hip. "I don't give up."
Althea put her hands down. "Well, I do. I'm not going to jail. I'll deal. I know where Letsky is. I got the coordinates from—"
"Letsky's dead," Wilder said, not liking his current position with Nash in front and the ghost somewhere behind him, covering Nash. He looked east. Lucy had reached Pepper and was trying to work her free. He turned back, "It's over, Nash. The CIA blew Letsky and his boat up about twenty minutes ago."
Wilder saw Bryce straighten up holding Althea's gun pointed at Nash, and yelled, "Get down. "
Althea hit the dirt and Bryce jerked in surprise and fell over backward as Wilder spun away from the clusterfuck by the boat to face the swamp and the ghost, snapping his sniper rifle up as he saw a muzzle flash in the blackness fifty yards away, past Lucy and Pepper. He fired on instinct, sending his own round directly into the flash. A second muzzle flash split the darkness, but this one was long and upright, firing into the air, and Wilder knew he'd hit the ghost, who'd tumbled backward as he'd fired a second time. Wilder fired two more quick rounds for insurance, then he spun about once more, going to one knee, in Nash's direction.
Lucy pushed herself off Pepper and pulled the little girl to her feet as she sprinted down the road, away from J.T., which was just so wrong, not knowing who had shot who, only knowing she had to get Pepper out of there. Then the helicopter was landing, LaFavre setting it down on firm ground, and she ran under the blades, not even thinking about it this time, desperate to get Pepper inside.
"What happened?" LaFavre yelled.
"Take her," Lucy said and shoved Pepper up into the copter.
"No, Aunt Lucy," Pepper sobbed, holding out her arms to her, and Lucy yelled, "Be brave, be Wonder Woman, I have to get J.T.," and ran back down the berm, hell-bent for leather with her submachine gun in her hand, heading for the lantern glow where J.T. was facing down the bad guys alone.
She ran straight into Althea, who was crouching while running along the berm. Althea grabbed her and said, "They kidnapped me, Lucy, it wasn't my fault," as Lucy asked, "Where's J.T.?"
"I don't know. I ran when everyone started shooting." Althea looked around. "I don't even know where we are."
"Road's right there." Lucy pointed up the berm. "Follow it back the way I came and you'll see a helicopter. You can hear it, right? Get in. The pilot likes big boobs." And you're one of the biggest boobs I know. She tried to get around Althea to get to J.T. but the actress held on.
"You know," Althea said. "I really think you're a great director, and I'd love to work with you again—"
Lucy shoved her in the direction of the helicopter and took off running, hoping that nobody was bleeding into the dirt up ahead since there hadn't been any more gunfire—
She ran full into Bryce, who wasn't even pretending to crouch.
"Lucy!" he said, grabbing on to her. "I almost got shot."
"Helicopter," she said, shoving him past her. "That way."
Then she ran on to the end of the road.
Wilder could feel insanity radiating off Nash, who was now alone on the gravel road, slowly walking toward him, closing the gap. Nash's gun was still in its holster, and Wilder realized Nash hadn't drawn while his back was turned because he wanted a goddamn showdown. Wilder let the sniper rifle drop in the dirt to gain Lucy and Pepper time to escape as he faced Nash.
High Noon, Wilder thought, feeling the weight of the Glock in his thigh holster.
The townsfolk had cleared out, the flunkies were done in, and it was man on man. I'm the good guy. Will Kane wins.
Except Nash believed in this shit and had prepared for it. Wilder knew there was no way he could get the Glock out of its thigh rig before Nash had his gun clear of the quick-draw rig.
Shouldn't have made fun of that. "You already shot me once," he called. "Wasn't that enough?"
"But you didn't die," Nash said. "The minute you stepped on that fucking bridge that first day, I should have shot you down. You ruined everything."
"You were never going to get the jade, Nash," Wilder said. "The CIA was watching from the beginning, trying to get Letsky. That's where those cucumbers came from. Cut your losses—"
"I don't lose," Nash said, his voice dead. He stopped fifteen feet away and lowered his head. "Draw, asshole."
Fuck, Wilder thought, I'm dead, and then Lucy stumbled onto the berm and brought up the submachine gun, and Nash turned just a fraction of a fraction toward her as she sprayed bullets into the dirt at his feet and Wilder went for his Glock.
Nash corrected, his hand a flash for the butt of his revolver, and Wilder squeezed off two shots as he brought the Glock up, the first too soon but hitting Nash in the leg as the stuntman fired, knocking his shot off by a fraction, the second right beside it, kicking Nash's entire body backward.
Wilder held the Glock level, staring at Nash's body, his finger tense on the trigger, waiting for any sign of life. Nothing.
fie removed his finger from the trigger and walked forward.
His hot load had gone right through Nash's vest and into his heart.
"Oh, God." Lucy dropped her gun, and then she was in his arms. "Are you all right?" she said, as he held on to her. "I couldn't leave you. Not alone, you said we were a team, I couldn't—"
He kissed her hard and she kissed him back and he thought, That was too damn close, and held her tight.
"I couldn't leave you," she said again into his neck. "Ever, I couldn't leave you."
He drew a deep breath. "I know."
She looked back at Nash's body. "So it's over, right?"
"It's over," Wilder said.
"I should feel sorry for him," she said. "I was married to him, but he took my Pepper and I can't. I'm just glad he's dead."
"I know."
She turned back to him. "What about the ghost? Is he—"
"I hit him," Wilder said. "He's either dead or gone. I'm betting dead." He pulled her along the road toward the helicopter. "Let's call Crawford in to clean up this mess and then go home."
"We don't have a home," Lucy said, sounding exhausted. "I gave my loft to Gloom. All we have is a helicopter and a camper."
"Well then, let's go make a home," Wilder said and pushed her ahead of him down the road, away from what was left of Nash.
LaFavre lifted the chopper off the ground, and Lucy held Pepper close, rocking her a lit
tle as they cleared the swamp. Pepper had stopped crying, LaFavre working his magic on her, and then Althea cuddling her until Lucy got back but then she'd climbed into Lucy's lap so fast she'd almost fallen off the other side. J.T. was next to them, and Pepper was holding on to his camouflage shirt with one hand even as she curled herself closer to Lucy. Bryce was seated cross-legged on the floor, somewhere between relieved and aggrieved, and Althea was in front, in the copilot's seat, leaning toward LaFavre.
"I was very scared," Pepper said, close to sobbing.
"I know," Lucy said, "but you were very brave."
"Yes, you were," J.T. said, and put his arms around them both. "You were like Wonder Woman."
"I even got tied up," Pepper said, straightening a little as her almost-sobs turned to sniffs.
"Just like Wonder Woman," Lucy said.
"Yeah," Pepper said, dragging a dirty hand across her dirtier cheek, keeping J.T.'s shirt clutched in the other. She sniffed again, but she seemed distracted, and when J.T. patted her back, she let her head rest on his arm, much calmer.
"You know," Bryce said, from his seat on the floor, with a glance up front, "I never told People who I was marrying. I just hinted."
Lucy took her eyes off Pepper long enough to feel sorry for him, dirty and mosquito-chewed while his ex-fiancee flirted with the guy in the great flight jacket. "Mary Vanity is saving up for new boobs just for you."
"Boobs?" Pepper said.
Bryce looked touched. "She's a great girl."
"Gonna be greater," J.T. said, and started to laugh.
Lucy put her cheek on Pepper's hair and hugged her closer. She was going to laugh again, too. As soon as she could do it without crying. There was no crying in Special Forces.
In the front seat, Althea leaned farther toward LaFavre, her camisole pulled even lower than usual. "Do you carry a weapon?"
For crying out loud, he's flying the helicopter, Lucy thought, but LaFavre just grinned at her, his eyes hidden behind the night-vision goggles.
"I sure do, darlin'," he said. "Want to see it?"
Lucy nudged J.T. "Aren't you going to warn him?"
"Yeah," J.T. said. "I'm gonna tell him if he's not careful, she's going to show up naked in his bed and touch his gun."