“Not very high,” Kendra said. “Even if that tracking device worked, I don’t see how they’d get here in that kind of force so soon. Three vehicles and a helicopter?”
Waldridge nodded. “Those must be the reinforcements Biers told us about.” He grimaced. “Though it’s flattering he would think he would need them, I was hoping that you’d have a more optimistic take on it than I did.”
“I want to be optimistic. We just can’t be certain that tracking device is even working. And even if it is, I don’t know if Jessie and the FBI can get here before those guys track us down.” She shivered as she watched the precision of the drivers of those vehicles as they covered miles of desert, those brilliant lights constantly searching. “They seem to know exactly what they’re doing, don’t they?”
Waldridge reached out and gripped her shoulder. “But so do we,” he said gently. “Look how far we’ve come against the bastards. We’re fantastic.”
“Yeah.” She covered his hand with her own. “We’re fantastic. How could I forget?”
“I have no idea. See that it doesn’t happen again.” Waldridge looked to the east, where the sky was just beginning to lighten. “But it’s going to be tough for us to move after it gets light. Maybe we should try to find some place to burrow down and hide.”
“That might be a good plan.”
But they both knew there were few places to burrow and hide in this barren desert. In these last hours, after they had left Biers, that truth had hit home to them as they had made their way over that scorched earth to this ridge.
Kendra gazed down at the tracking device in her hand, then looked up toward the western horizon.
Please. We’re here, but I don’t know for how long, Jessie. Come and get us …
*
JESSIE HELD ON TO HER tablet computer as Lynch banked a wide turn with the helicopter.
“Did you text Kendra’s current tracker coordinates to Griffin?” Lynch asked.
Jessie nodded. “Griffin and his team are on the way.”
“Good.”
“And Griffin requests that we hang back and coordinate our arrival at the scene with his team.”
Lynch shook his head. “Griffin knows that’s not going to happen. He’s just covering his ass in case this thing goes south. Truth be told, he’d rather not be responsible for what I do out there.”
She glanced at his expression, then looked away. “I can understand that.”
Lynch cocked his head toward the back. “Behind our seats, there’s a black canvas bag. Would you mind unzipping it and showing me what’s in there?”
Jessie pulled the heavy bag into her lap, unfastened the snaps, and opened the zipper. She stared in disbelief at the bag’s contents. “Holy shit.”
“Everything seem okay?”
The bag contained a variety of handguns, automatic rifles, and ammunition. “It depends on how you look at it. They all appear to be in good shape and functional.” Jessie pulled out a Smith & Wesson semiautomatic. “Do you always travel with an armory?”
“Not always. I had a friend meet me at the airport with some special favorites. I thought they might come in handy tonight. Would you like to borrow one?”
She patted her shoulder holster. “I brought my own, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He was gazing intently down at the stretch of desert that had just come into view, his lips tightening. “Check that tablet again. Shouldn’t we be almost there?”
*
“THEY’RE COMING THIS WAY,” Kendra gasped as she climbed the ridge’s rocky face. She tried to get her breath as she looked over her shoulder at Dyle’s helicopter, which hovered less than half a mile from where she and Waldridge were scrambling over the rocks. Stay in the shadows. Those beams from the helicopter were lighting up everything around them. If they got much closer, they would spot them and pin them against these rocks like a collector would a butterfly.
But butterflies were helpless. They mustn’t be helpless. They mustn’t let Dyle gather them up. They mustn’t let him win.
Waldridge swung his legs over a cluster of rocks. “I’m slowing us down,” he called back to her. “It would be easier on the desert floor.”
“We’d be sitting ducks down there. Keep going. You’re doing fine.”
Kendra gave him a gentle shove to help him over the rocks. Waldridge was slowing down, and she probably was, too. Moving along this high ridge was increasingly treacherous, especially as they grew more tired.
Keep moving.
Stay hidden.
But that damn helicopter was getting closer.
So close.
Too close.
She tried to move faster.
Keep moving.
Hold on until help arrives.
If help arrived, she reminded herself. She had no way of knowing if the tracking device was actually working.
Don’t think about it. If they couldn’t count on it, then they’d find another way.
But the helicopter drew closer. The spotlight swept over crevices and pathways they had traveled only minutes before.