The Edge
Page 90
I waited a moment, then ran as fast as I could to where the helicopter lay, nose buried some two feet into the ground, its rotor broken off halfway down, gleaming sharp blade edges embedded in the foliage. Monkeys shrieked overhead. I saw several of them leaping from tree to tree some six feet above my head. I knew the helicopter could explode, but I had to get my hands on a first-aid kit. I couldn't face the thought of Laura wounded in this living hellhole without any medical supplies.
The gunner and the pilot were both dead. They were wearing fatigues, like the rest of Molinas's men. They were in an American helicopter but they surely weren't Americans. They were probably Del Cabrizo's men, sent to take us out, just as Molinas had said.
To my relief, I found the first-aid kit shoved beneath the pilot's seat. On the back of the pilot's chair, to my amazement, were half a dozen containers of bottled water in a net fastened to a strap. There were several blankets strewn over the backseat. I grabbed them up, smelling the fresh, thick scent of sex. Now I knew what these guys had been doing before they'd taken off.
I unfastened the net that held the water from the strap, threw the blankets over my shoulder, and shouting like a madman, I ran back.
We were still too close to the edge of the rain forest. I didn't hear anyone coming, didn't hear the other Apache. But it was stupid to take any chances.
"My God," Savich said. "You've got your first-aid kit, and water. I'm going to make sure you get a promotion and a raise, Mac."
"Can you hold out a bit longer?" I said, coming down to my knees beside Laura.
"Yes, but then I want to relax by the pool with a good book."
"You got it. Let's see what we've got in here. There should be some pain pills to help take the edge off." I found them and gave her three, and all the water she wanted from one of the bottles. Savich had gotten the bleeding stopped, thank God. It was as good as we could do for the moment. I rose quickly. "Let's go northwest about fifty more yards, then I'll backtrack and erase our tracks. The good Lord is looking out for us, guys. Just look at all this bottled water. And it isn't even drugged."
Another fifteen feet ahead and we couldn't get through the twisted and intertwined vines and trees. It was a wall of green. The first time we'd been helpless, but this time we had the machete Laura had taken.
I unfastened it from her belt, kissed her cheek. "You're brilliant," I said. "I can't promise anything, but it seems to me that just maybe you've got the makings of an FBI agent."
"You really think so?" She managed a smile. Laura had to walk since I was carrying the water and the first-aid kit and one AK-47 and hacking our way through the dense green foliage. So much of it. I held her up, my arm around her waist. "You're doing great, kiddo. Just hang in there. Another fifteen steps and we'll rest. That's good Laura, just ten more steps." I took another whack at the twisted vines in front of us. 'The sucker's nice and sharp, thank God."
"I'd rather have a margarita, Mac."
"Me too, but I'd rather know for sure where we are. I should have wrung that out of Molinas."
"He got us out of there. We're in Colombia, Mac. We have to be."
I heard Sherlock moan, heard Savich's low voice, but I couldn't make out his words.
He hefted Sherlock over his shoulder and took the machete from me. I was grateful. We kept going, at least another fifty steps. It was Savich who pulled up. He was panting hard. He gently eased Sherlock to the ground and balanced the big machete and an AK-47 against a tree trunk beside her.
"Mac, enough. I'm beat for the moment. Spread out those blankets and let's lay our patients on them. Shush, Sherlock, it's okay."
Sherlock opened her eyes and looked over at me, at the AK-47s I was laying next to Savich. The only thing was, Sherlock wasn't behind those eyes. I looked away, I just couldn't stand it. I wished I'd killed Molinas.
I leaned Laura against a tree, unwrapped the blankets from around her, and spread them out. I eased her down onto her back. Her eyes were nearly black with pain.
I leaned down and kissed her dry mouth. "Now, you just lie here, make Savich give you some water." I unfolded the other two blankets that I'd been carrying over my shoulder and spread them out over her. I said to Savich, "We've been using the machete, but maybe there's something I can do to lessen their chances of tracking us." Before I left I gave Laura another pain pill.
When I returned some five minutes later, I heard Laura whisper, "I'm sorry, really sorry. I should have dodged better. Maybe I'll be demoted to the FBI."
The gunner and the pilot were both dead. They were wearing fatigues, like the rest of Molinas's men. They were in an American helicopter but they surely weren't Americans. They were probably Del Cabrizo's men, sent to take us out, just as Molinas had said.
To my relief, I found the first-aid kit shoved beneath the pilot's seat. On the back of the pilot's chair, to my amazement, were half a dozen containers of bottled water in a net fastened to a strap. There were several blankets strewn over the backseat. I grabbed them up, smelling the fresh, thick scent of sex. Now I knew what these guys had been doing before they'd taken off.
I unfastened the net that held the water from the strap, threw the blankets over my shoulder, and shouting like a madman, I ran back.
We were still too close to the edge of the rain forest. I didn't hear anyone coming, didn't hear the other Apache. But it was stupid to take any chances.
"My God," Savich said. "You've got your first-aid kit, and water. I'm going to make sure you get a promotion and a raise, Mac."
"Can you hold out a bit longer?" I said, coming down to my knees beside Laura.
"Yes, but then I want to relax by the pool with a good book."
"You got it. Let's see what we've got in here. There should be some pain pills to help take the edge off." I found them and gave her three, and all the water she wanted from one of the bottles. Savich had gotten the bleeding stopped, thank God. It was as good as we could do for the moment. I rose quickly. "Let's go northwest about fifty more yards, then I'll backtrack and erase our tracks. The good Lord is looking out for us, guys. Just look at all this bottled water. And it isn't even drugged."
Another fifteen feet ahead and we couldn't get through the twisted and intertwined vines and trees. It was a wall of green. The first time we'd been helpless, but this time we had the machete Laura had taken.
I unfastened it from her belt, kissed her cheek. "You're brilliant," I said. "I can't promise anything, but it seems to me that just maybe you've got the makings of an FBI agent."
"You really think so?" She managed a smile. Laura had to walk since I was carrying the water and the first-aid kit and one AK-47 and hacking our way through the dense green foliage. So much of it. I held her up, my arm around her waist. "You're doing great, kiddo. Just hang in there. Another fifteen steps and we'll rest. That's good Laura, just ten more steps." I took another whack at the twisted vines in front of us. 'The sucker's nice and sharp, thank God."
"I'd rather have a margarita, Mac."
"Me too, but I'd rather know for sure where we are. I should have wrung that out of Molinas."
"He got us out of there. We're in Colombia, Mac. We have to be."
I heard Sherlock moan, heard Savich's low voice, but I couldn't make out his words.
He hefted Sherlock over his shoulder and took the machete from me. I was grateful. We kept going, at least another fifty steps. It was Savich who pulled up. He was panting hard. He gently eased Sherlock to the ground and balanced the big machete and an AK-47 against a tree trunk beside her.
"Mac, enough. I'm beat for the moment. Spread out those blankets and let's lay our patients on them. Shush, Sherlock, it's okay."
Sherlock opened her eyes and looked over at me, at the AK-47s I was laying next to Savich. The only thing was, Sherlock wasn't behind those eyes. I looked away, I just couldn't stand it. I wished I'd killed Molinas.
I leaned Laura against a tree, unwrapped the blankets from around her, and spread them out. I eased her down onto her back. Her eyes were nearly black with pain.
I leaned down and kissed her dry mouth. "Now, you just lie here, make Savich give you some water." I unfolded the other two blankets that I'd been carrying over my shoulder and spread them out over her. I said to Savich, "We've been using the machete, but maybe there's something I can do to lessen their chances of tracking us." Before I left I gave Laura another pain pill.
When I returned some five minutes later, I heard Laura whisper, "I'm sorry, really sorry. I should have dodged better. Maybe I'll be demoted to the FBI."
