Without warning counter fire erupted from their left and, like ten pin skittles, the assailants tottered ungainly at the sudden impact and scattered apart before dropping to the ground. The impact of two, huge booted feet announced the arrival of a man mountain rapidly followed by a much smaller, slender figure. Matt recognised the duo instantly. Johnno reacted by pointing his gun at the smallest of the two new arrivals.
“Lower the weapon,” said Baresi. “We’re here to help, like we did when you were cornered in pairs.”
“You expect us to believe that?” spat Johnno.
“Johnno, wait,” instructed Matt.
“Wait, for what? This bitch murdered Helen.”
“I didn’t kill Nash.”
“We’ve got the evidence, CCTV footage.”
“No,” said Matt. “The evidence we have is Baresi boarding the ferry, that’s all.”
“Same thing as far as I’m concerned,” said Johnno. “Who else would have wanted to kill her?”
“It was my job to tail her.”
“Then why wasn’t your delicate little body floating in the sea as well?” asked Will.
“Someone jumped me. I spent the crossing unconscious on the floor of the ladies room.”
“I don’t freaking believe you!” said Johnno.
Tension rose as the two adversaries glared at each other, both refusing to give ground.
“I really don’t give a shit as to whether you believe me or not,” she said.
Matt noticed Johnno’s finger edge closer to the trigger and feared the worst.
“Who do you think took out their left flank?” said Stone, urgently intervening. “There’s a small window of opportunity. Let’s use it.”
Suspicious glances darted between the eyes of the three men and the newcomers before they settled on Matt. He didn’t have to say anything. The next round of gunfire did all the talking for him.
“We’re out of time,” said Matt. “Get yourselves organised and go!” he yelled.
“Aren’t you coming?” queried Baresi.
“Not yet.”
“Matt has a temporary condition,” said Will. “He’s going to stay behind.”
Without being asked Stone plucked Matt from the ground and threw the debilitated body over his shoulder as though picking up a rag doll. Someone strapped the laptop to his back and Will gave the order to move. Stone pounded his way up the terrain and Matt turned his head to see the others working as a unit. Two laid down fire while the remaining pair made for cover then reciprocated the courtesy. Over and over again the scene repeated itself, each conducted with immaculate timing and precision.
The big man barely broke sweat as he galloped away from the fight below, not sounding in the slightest bit breathless as they neared the cavern. Once at the opening he stooped inside to allow his passenger to slide from the muscular shoulders to the ground and Matt summoned the energy to push his body up against the side. The exercise proved easier than expected and he was grateful strength was returning.
“Thanks,” he said, scanning the interior for life.
Rosa was nowhere in sight. They were joined by the next pair, Will and Baresi, collapsing on to their knees to gulp in mouthfuls of air. Matt could taste the tension and mistrust between them, despite the remarkable exhibition of teamwork he had witnessed.
“What the hell …” said Rosa, suddenly appearing.
“It’s okay. They’re friendly,” said Matt.
“Friendly?”
“It’s a long story. Where the hell have you been?”
“Up above, waiting for the cavalry,” she said. “Our not so friendly neighbours have discovered the lodge and vehicle so I decided to call for back up.”
“What back up?”
The engine noise of a light aircraft sounded in the distance, nearing their position.
“Right on cue,” she said.
“How is a plane going to land on a mountain top?”
“Float plane, you idiot,” she said. “There’s a lake below if you haven’t forgotten?”
“Who uses float planes in a landlocked country?”
“The region is littered with lakes of all shapes and sizes. A business opportunity for anyone with a degree of commercial nous if you ask me,” she said, her eyes sparkling with life.
She halted his impending curt reaction by kneeling beside him and kissing him warmly on the lips.
“What the hell was that for?”
“You made it,” she said. “I knew you would.”
“And how did you know that, smart ass?”
“Morse code,” she said. “I used the flashlight to send the team a message. Tell them what you were planning so they’d make their own plans and get you out.”
Matt’s head dropped back against the hard stone wall and he closed his eyes.
“Some people would be grateful,” she said.
“Lily didn’t make it.”
The squint in her eyes reflected her disappointment. Rosa, being Rosa, soon recovered.
“There are seven of us now. Some of us will have to go in pairs. You can come with me.”
“How do you make that out?”
“They’ve done their bit. It’s my turn to take over and look after you.”
“You think?”
“It always ends with me looking after you, rescuing you from the impossible. Haven’t you figured that out by now?” she grinned.
“When you’re both quite done,” said Baresi. “There’s still a lot more to do if we’re going to get out of here.”
“Can you move?” asked Rosa.
Matt used his arms against the hard rock to drag himself unsteadily to his feet. Searching for balance he heard a sharp cry pierce the rising breeze followed by Johnno’s animated and despairing voice.
“Bro, bro,” was the call.
Will darted outside to see what had happened. Seconds later he returned with Johnno, roughly dragging Toby’s prone body into the cavern by his arms. Instinctively, Stone manned the entrance while the others helped to drag the limp frame further inside.
“Bro, bro, talk to me,” pleaded Johnno.
“What happened?” asked Will.
“I’m not sure. We were making our way up on the last run and he fell over. He’s hardly breathing.”
Toby’s pale and wan expression refused to respond to the frantic urgings of his fretful friend. Matt eyed the flattened path left by Toby’s trail and saw the line of red.
“Turn him over,” he said. “It’s his back.”
They gently rolled him onto his side and Baresi examined the wound. Coldly, she broke the news.
“Rear entry, just below the heart,” she said. “Moving him will likely kill him.”
“And if we don’t move him?”
“He’ll die anyway. It’ll just take a little longer. We’ll have to leave him”
“No!” shouted Johnno.
“I can’t change the facts, Johnno. You know how it works from here. We go without him.”
“I am not leaving Toby.”
“You’re friend can’t help us now and we’re not carrying dead weight. We leave him.”
“You cold hearted, emotionless bitch!” shouted the angry young man.
Baresi met the woeful stare with an icy, dismissive disdain and Johnno reached for his weapon.
“Johnno, no!” shouted Matt. “We need every gun.”
Hands wrapped around the butt of the semi-automatic the distraught Johnno considered his options.
“And we’re going to need every gun much sooner than you think,” said Stone. “They’re closing fast.”
The stand-off continued for what felt like an eternity until Matt broke the deadlock.
“Johnno,” Matt said softly. “He’s your bro. What do you want to do?”
Reality broke through the mists of despair. Decimated with grief Johnno shook his head from side to side having already made his decision.
“I’m not going,” he said. “Leave some
ammunition and I’ll buy as much time as I can.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” said Baresi. “The man’s as good as dead already.”
Toby moaned, signalling agreement with the unpalatable assessment. The moisture in Johnno’s disbelieving eyes took form and tears started to roll.
“Toby’s not dead yet,” Johnno sniffled. “And as long as he breathes I’m staying with him.”
The statement visibly shook Baresi.
“Johnno, see sense. You have to come with us,” she said, face drawn in unsettled confusion by the unexpected display of emotion.
“I’m staying right here with Toby,” he said. “I’m staying with my bro.”
Baresi continued to look perplexed.
“The man’s a virtual corpse,” she said.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” hissed Johnno.
“Get what?”
“Life is meaningless without my bro by my side.”
Many phrases had been used describe it; bromance being one that sprang immediately to mind. Whatever the name Johnno laid it bare to see. Baresi thought she knew the man kneeling before her cradling the head of his best friend, the wandering philanderer who cared for nothing or no-one other than his own personal gratification. She didn’t know him at all. Matt understood. He had understood from the start.
“Give him what he needs,” said Matt.
“Aren’t you going to talk him out of it?”
There were so many descriptive words he could use, harsh and unpleasant vitriol to demonstrate the level of distaste he held for this woman. But he needed her onside so he didn’t use any of them.
“No,” he said, finding the energy to brush her aside. “He’s made his decision.”
Johnno armed himself with rifle and handgun and took up position at the mouth of the cavern, partly concealed behind the protruding rock.
“Bring him to me.”
They laid Toby gently alongside, head rested on the breast of his teary-eyed friend. Johnno’s hand stroked at the cheek of the wounded man as he looked to Matt with an appreciative smile.
“Go,” said Johnno.
Matt stirred the others into action. With the nod of his head they queued at the entrance. Another nod and Will scrambled away, followed by Stone and Baresi. A succession of bullets pelted against nearby boulders and Johnno returned fire. Matt nudged Rosa forward.
“I’ll follow,” she said.
“No. I’m okay to go.”
Turning right, she scampered up the slope and slipped out of sight. Matt paused at the entrance, unsure of the right form of words to use.
“Bro,” Toby managed to whisper through the pain. “Give him the numbers.”
Johnno undid the stud of a wallet buckled to Toby’s waist, reached inside and handed over the contents. Matt looked at the electronic chip with some confusion before realising it was the team’s ‘private’ account.
“There’s millions,” said Johnno, “its source untraceable. Split it between the three of you.”
Matt’s mouth opened involuntarily but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Respect, man,” said Johnno. “And I’m speaking for both of us.”
Matt darted out into the night and began to scramble up the slope, Johnno’s tender words of affection to his doppelganger ringing in his ears. Get ready, bro, he had said boldly. This is going to get rough.
The dash to the top took no time. Matt felt incredibly strong, as though his body had been plugged into a power source. The others had donned their kit and were waiting in the lightening sky as dawn broke. He could see the float plane approaching, drifting steadily lower.
“There’s our taxi,” said Rosa.
“Where’s mine?” he asked, looking around.
“You’re coming with me,” she said.
“I can do this on my own.”
“Maybe,” said Will. “But let’s not take any chances to be on the safe side. We’ve got you this far and we sure aren’t losing you now.”
They sealed the laptop in a vacuumed bag and strapped it to Matt with Rosa attached to his back ready to manipulate the controls for the flight. The shooting behind intensified as they lined up. Baresi ran to the edge and disappeared, followed by Stone and Will.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Rosa.
“We should have gone separately. Then I would have been able to cover your descent.”
“We’d already decided between us we weren’t going to let you go alone.”
“Decided?”
“We know you. This way eliminates the temptation to go back and help Johnno.”
“He might have changed his mind.”
“That’s the difference between you and us. Once a plan is agreed we stick to it. It eliminates uncertainty.”
“Like sending messages by flashlight?” he quipped.
“If you’d discussed the plan beforehand I wouldn’t have had to send a message.”
He took a deep sigh.
“I hate being a passenger.”
“You are not going to whine, do you understand? Now quit stalling and get your ass into gear.”
She threw back her head and laughed at the expletive that fell from his mouth as he lurched forward. They reached the edge and dropped away. After a rapid fall the engine kicked in and Rosa found the air current to lift skywards. With supreme skill she aimed them towards the far end of the lake, chasing the others some way ahead.
A little further along the plane patiently circled, waiting for their arrival.
“How the hell did you find a float plane, never mind a pilot anyway?” he called.
“I looked,” she said.
He was about to speak again when the gunfire behind came to a sudden and abrupt halt. The temporary silence lasted for a split second and was then broken by a single gunshot followed by another. Matt shut his eyes tight and lowered his head in disappointment.
“Go faster,” he said.
The first bullet whistled by their left side. A second followed, narrowly sailing over the top of the hang glider. Rosa banked right in an evasive manoeuvre. They lost height. She struggled to find the air current and continued to fall. Rosa swooped left and rediscovered the flow. Up she took them as another bullet passed underneath. He could see Will also shifting his flight pattern. The other two progressed untroubled. Matt looked left and saw figures carrying small arms weaponry running out of the lodge to the vehicle parked nearby where they crouched and took aim.
“Not good,” he yelled.
They dived to avoid the missiles of death and then swung back to the right. She found the current again and lifted them above the tree line at the shore. More gunfire and he thought he heard a thump.
“What was that?”
She didn’t respond. They dipped sharply and plummeted towards the water. Matt held his breath as Rosa struggled to regain control. They rose again. Ahead, Will banked to the right and then dropped like a stone.
“He’s hit,” yelled Matt.
“We can’t stop,” she called.
He watched on in horror as Will skimmed the surface, his feet running along the top of the lake. His only chance would be that he’d made enough distance from the shore before ditching. Eyes glued to the scene he saw Will fall into the water and then his head burst through the surface and begin to swim towards the plane. They sailed overhead. Matt looked forward and could see the others had covered the necessary yardage to the safety of the waiting machine. Rosa tugged at the cord and they began the descent, gliding serenely down to where the others clambered into the fuselage. The impact was sudden, harsh, and they dropped below the surface. Matt took a deep breath and unclipped the restraint, the vicious cold biting into him acting like an electric bolt shooting through his body and galvanising him into urgent activity. Rosa followed. Together they swam the few feet to the machine and powerful hands dragged them aboard.
“We have to get Will,” he spluttered.
“No,” shouted Baresi. “He’s too far
behind.”
“We’re not leaving without him.”
He scrambled up to the cockpit, pushed his head inside and bellowed.
“Pilot, make for that man in the water.”
The head of sheer black long hair spun round and a pair of cautious Guinness eyes looked him over.
“As the pilot that decision is mine to make and mine to make alone.”
“Gratia, what the …”
“Put your seat belt on,” she said.
He turned and glared at Rosa.
“Okay,” she said. “So there aren’t many float plane pilots in this neck of the woods.”
The machine lurched forward unexpectedly causing him to lose balance.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I have made my decision,” said the pilot.
The plane sprang forward, scuttling along the surface in short hops of uneven length.
“Get a grip,” he said. “You’re better than this.”
“As good a pilot as I am, being shot at while trying to fly is an unfamiliar experience.”
“I’ll do it,” he ordered.
“No you will not!”
The machine rose and he lost balance again, head hitting the window. Gratia took a wide arc, bending their flight path to increase the distance between them and the shooters on the shore.
“Now what?” he said.
“Rope,” she replied. “Never leave without it.”
He darted back into the fuselage and found the rope, tying one end firmly to a seat fitting.
“Steer as close as you can without stopping.”
“I know what to do.”
The plane ferried close to their target and he tossed the rope into his friend’s grateful grasp.
“Go Gratia, full power along the surface just as you did before,” he yelled.
They towed him the distance needed to be almost out of range and then drew in the soaking rope. Stone leant out of the door and dragged Will from the water where he collapsed in an untidy heap.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said. “They hit the motor and nicked my shoulder.”
Bullets peppered the fuselage as the gunfire resumed its deadly intent and they fell to the floor. Several missiles broke through the thin layer of material posing as walls and passed out the other side. The plane shot forward and rose sharply, spearing into the sky to flee the scene. Matt’s first instinct was to hurry to the cockpit.
“Gratia?” he called.
“I am fine.”
He noticed a spot of blood on her sleeve and crawled into the co-pilot’s seat to examine the line of red liquid seeping from the graze to her forehead.
“I told you it is fine,” she repeated.
“No, it’s not fine. You’re hurt. Medi-kit,” he yelled into the main cabin.
“We need it for your friend,” answered Stone.
“Give me what you’re not using.”
“It is what you would call a scratch.”
“Lunacy is what I call it. What the hell were you thinking of, agreeing to something as dangerous as this?”
A slender hand offered the remnants of the medical bag. Matt snatched it from Baresi’s grasp and happened to notice Rosa, strangely, taking root in one of the seats seemingly unconnected with events. Her face looked drawn and tired. He rummaged through the contents.
“Rosa said she needed my help,” said Gratia. “It was the least I could do.”
The fumbling stopped and he smiled wryly.
“Well she’s very grateful,” he said.
Moments later he found what he needed and tipped liquid from the bottle onto a piece of gauze.
“This will sting a little.”
Her head recoiled at the pressing of the damp cloth and she grimaced, though refused to openly complain. Aware of what to expect she eased back to allow him to continue.
“You’ve been lucky,” he said. “There shouldn’t be much scar tissue visible once it’s healed.”
“Scar tissue?” she said.
“I wouldn’t worry. It will only matter to those who don’t look below the surface of the skin.”
An angrier red stain caught his attention.
“Let me see your arm.”
“What is wrong with my arm?”
“Don’t you feel it?”
“I don’t feel anything.”
“Hmmm,” he said.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re body is in shock.”
“Are you trying to frighten me?”
“Keep your eyes on the flight path ahead and gently lean forward a touch.”
He could see confusion in her frown, and the inclination to disobey, so he placed a hand to her shoulder and nudged her forward. Gently, he reached across and slid the uninjured arm out of the sleeve and then tried the same with the other. Her sharp intake of breath was swiftly followed by short, erratic gasps.
“Deep breaths, Gratia,” he said. “Take deep breaths and talk to me, like we were having an everyday conversation.”
“Talk ...about ...what?”
“Anything,” he said. “How’s work for example? Do you still manage the office by mobile and laptop?”
“They call it a tablet these days,” she said.
Matt shook his head and grinned.
“I thought tablets were for sick people.”
The scissors sliced through the fine cloth of the sleeve to open up access to the injury.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“I’ll buy you another one.”
A wince of pain prevented the expected acerbic response, much to Matt’s relief.
“And a new blouse, too,” he said.
Matt stemmed the flow sufficiently to properly examine the wound and started to clean the infected area.
“That hurts,” she said.
“Remember, everyday conversation. Don’t watch me.”
“Why, what do you intend to do?”
“Eyes straight,” he said.
Out of sight he threaded the needle and pointed to it to the wound, poised to strike.
“You should have come clean about Tillman, when Maria showed you the photograph,” he said.
“I knew him as Jason Taylor.”
“Even so, you should have told me.”
“It was none of your business,” she said angrily. “I have never asked you for all the intricate details of your past …”
The needle pushed through the two flaps of skin he held tightly between his thumb and fingers. She screamed out a string of expletives he never would have believed were in her learned vocabulary. Two stitches sealed the wound, both met by the same uncompromising vernacular.
“Done,” he said, tying the ends.
“That hurt!”
“Only for a while,” he said with a smile.
He made to stroke her cheek and her instant response was to recoil, her eyes demanding he refrain from making another attempt. Perhaps Gratia had told the truth. She’d only come to help Rosa. He switched his gaze to the horizon, to the next lake in line.
“Matt, you’re needed back here!” shouted Will.
For a moment he paused. Then decided it would be better to answer the call, anything to avoid the awkwardness of the situation. He turned to see Stone lifting Rosa from her seat.
“What happened?”
“Not sure,” said Stone. “She made a weird noise and fell back in the seat, out cold.”
“Put her on the floor.”
Stone laid her gently down and withdrew his arms, seeing and feeling the sticky liquid dripping from his hand. It was blood, and there was a lot of it.
Chapter Thirty Six
Speak No More