“Where are they?”
“Near the beach. There’s a cabin cruiser floating about fifty yards out in the water. If we can get to it, we can use it to get away.”
Sumner hauled the wounded soldier upright. “Come on, Miguel. We’re going on a cruise.”
The soldier turned sheet white for a moment, as if the act of standing made all the blood in his body head south. He wrapped one arm around Sumner’s shoulders.
“The rifle. I’m not leaving without it,” he said.
Emma slung the strap over Miguel’s other shoulder. “I’ll cover you both.”
Sumner grabbed Emma by the shirt and pulled her toward him. He kissed her, openmouthed and urgent. He broke away to look at her.
“In case we don’t make it,” he said to her.
All Emma could think to do was nod.
Sumner hitched Miguel higher on his shoulder. “On three!” he said, and began to count.
They burst out of the hut. The sun was up and the heat rising. It reflected off the pipeline’s metal and bounced off the oil-slicked grass, making the area stink even more than before. Sumner started a slow jog. He pulled on Miguel, who managed to move his feet only every few steps, forcing Sumner to half drag him along. Emma scanned the field, looking for the soldiers. They were at the base of the hill, next to the pipeline, moving in a crouch formation toward the hut.
The helicopter was back. It swooped over them. The shadow it cast covered Emma, blocking out the sun. She peppered it with bullets. It shot upward again and spun in a circle.
She ran sideways down the hill in order to watch the approaching soldiers. She fired a random shot in their direction. They scattered and ran for cover. Emma continued behind Sumner and Miguel. They passed the spot where she’d hidden in the trees. The box of dynamite was still there. Emma diverted sideways to snatch the box off the ground. She ripped it open while she continued moving. The helicopter flew somewhere to her right. She heard the sound of a second growing louder. If there were two, then they were doomed. She did her best to ignore it and focus on the job at hand.
The soldiers were huddled under the pipeline. They hid behind the narrow tripod legs, waiting for their chance. Sumner had dragged Miguel to the far left, using the trees as cover. The trees might help with the helicopter, but Emma expected the soldiers to fire on the men as they drew parallel. Plus, a huge German shepherd shot out of the wooded area, running full tilt at Sumner. Emma didn’t know if it was going to attack, but whatever it was going to do, Sumner was going to have to deal with it. She didn’t have the time to put it down.
Emma refocused on the immediate threats. She ran next to the oil barrel parked below the pipeline’s gash. Oil still poured into the can. She ran past it, then stopped dead as an idea came to her. She jogged back to the can, pulled two sticks of dynamite out of the box, and rammed them into the hole in the pipeline, fuses out. She pulled out the silver lighter, flicked it on, and lit the fuses. They sparked like Fourth of July sparklers on steroids. Emma sprinted like hell across the field toward where she’d last seen Sumner.
The helicopter was back and bearing down on her. The second helicopter roared out of the trees, rising up to Emma’s right. This helicopter had guns mounted on the front. Emma gazed into the telescope and put her crosshairs on the second helicopter’s pilot. She gasped. It was an American man in army fatigues. An American flag was stitched on the front of his shirt. Emma hesitated in the face of that flag. He bent forward to touch a switch, and the helicopter’s guns started firing on the guerrilla.
A huge explosion rocked the field. It blew Emma off her feet. Metal shrapnel landed all around her. One piece pierced her arm near the biceps. Her fingers lost all feeling. She regained her feet, only to be knocked down by a second explosion. Another piece of shrapnel hammered into her head. She saw stars dance before her eyes. A huge fireball flew out of what was left of the hemorrhaging pipeline. A line of fire surged from the metal in a solid wall of flame fed continuously by the still-pumping fuel.
She forced herself back up on her feet. The soldiers were gone. The portion of the pipeline they were hiding under was reduced to twisted metal. The helicopters were high in the sky and still battling it out. Emma saw Sumner swimming in the water, dragging Miguel, ten feet from the cabin cruiser. The dog swam behind them, also headed for the boat. The boy soldier was there, standing on the deck, holding a gun.
“Oh, God, don’t let him shoot them. We’ve gotten this far.” Emma said the prayer out loud. “Please, God, I don’t deserve this favor, but let them live. Make the boy understand.” She continued running down the hill. She made the beach and splashed into the water, never taking her eyes off the boy on the boat.
Sumner made it to the ladder. He was yelling something at Miguel, who grabbed the rungs and started to climb. When he was halfway up, the boy reached down to help him, pulling Miguel up while Sumner pushed from below. Miguel flopped over the railing. Sumner turned, grabbed the dog by the ruff, and pulled him up with him on the ladder. He threw the dog over the railing. He leaped lightly onto the deck, slapped the boy on the shoulder in thanks, and took the gun from him. The boy nodded and stepped back. Sumner checked the weapon and turned to the beach. She knew he was looking for her. She began her own swim to the boat. She turned her attention to the helicopters. The American in the helicopter fired again, and the guerrillas’ helicopter exploded into a thousand little pieces.
Within a minute, peace descended.
55
EMMA WATCHED SUMNER AS SHE SPLASHED DEEPER INTO THE water. He lowered the gun, put a hand to his eyes, and watched the remaining helicopter as it lowered to the beach. Emma followed its progress as well. It settled on the ground and grew quiet as the pilot cut the engine.
The helicopter door opened and a devastatingly handsome man with hair cropped close to his head and dark, almost black eyes stepped out. A thick stubble of beard gave him a slightly disreputable look, as did the AK-47 slung over his shoulder. He wore spotlessly clean jungle fatigues with high lace boots. His eyes swept the field and then locked on Emma. He smiled a dazzling smile.
“Ms. Caldridge, we meet at last,” he said.
Emma knew that her mouth hung open in shock, both at the unlikely appearance of such a beautiful man in this jungle hell, and at his use of her name. She snapped her mouth shut and swallowed once.
“How do you know my name?”
The man smiled. His teeth were straight and pearly white.
“I’m Edward Banner, special consultant to the Department of Defense. We received your text message after the crash. I had twenty special forces personnel searching for you and the passengers, as well as three helicopters prepared to extract you once we found you.”
“Had?” Emma said.
Banner nodded. “The Colombian government asked them to withdraw.” He consulted his watch. “By now most have been extracted. I was searching for two that I’m told stayed behind—Major Miguel Gonzalez and Cameron Sumner.” He waved an arm at the boat in the water. “Is that them?”
Emma nodded.
Banner scanned the beach. “You’d best get in the helicopter. We may only have a short window to get out of here before reinforcements show up.”
Emma shook her head. “Not me. I’ve had enough flying for a while. I’ll go on the boat with Sumner. The soldier with him is injured. Can you use the helicopter to take him to the hospital?”
“I have a doctor I know who will fix him up, no questions asked. I’ll get him in the copter and deliver him to you. I should warn you, the authorities in the U.S. are asking quite a few questions about Miguel’s and Sumner’s roles in the bombing of the pipeline. I may not bring them in until I can assess the mood over there.”