“How would I get away with two unruly horses and a desert to cross?” She turned and went over to Hope. The mare seemed much calmer than Charlie. She’d been much more settled since the birth of the colt. “I’d have to have a genie in a bottle.”
He nodded. “And Kilmer’s no wizard.” He drove off with his entourage of vehicles following him.
She patted Hope and then went back to Charlie. “Well, we’re on our own, boy.” She looked out at the desert and shook her head. The dunes were enormous, and the sun beating down on them would be scorching hot in a few hours. In the distance she could see the foothills of the Atlas Mountains, and they looked cool and inviting compared to the stark barrenness surrounding her. She had read somewhere that there was a giant dune in the Sahara the size of Rhode Island. Looking at these dunes, she could believe it.
Kilmer’s no wizard.
Kilmer’s nowhere around.
But Marvot was wrong. She’d worked with Kilmer and knew that he could be a wizard on occasion. If he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be found. He would be there for her when she needed him.
“Here we go.” She pulled herself onto Charlie’s back and started to gather Hope’s rope. Then she stopped as she looked at the mare. This rope was totally stupid. It wasn’t as if she could control the mare with it. Hope would follow Charlie without a rope, and it might get in the way. She released the mare. “Come on, Hope. Let’s get this over with so that you can get back to your colt.”
Hope neighed and came lunging toward them.
“Charlie?”
Would he move? Would he refuse to budge as he always had before when brought here?
Charlie, dammit. Go. It doesn’t matter where. Just move.
The stallion took a step forward, then another.
We’ll still be here when Marvot comes back if you don’t get a move on it. Personally, I don’t want to see him again anytime soon.
Charlie started to walk and then trot.
Hallelujah. Her legs tightened around him.
Now just amble around and have a good time until Kilmer comes for us.
But the sky was still crystal clear, a blue so intense that it hurt her eyes to look at it.
And Kilmer wouldn’t come until the storm came.
18
Where’s that damn sirocco?” Kilmer growled as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “She’s been out there for hours and we can’t make a move.”
Adam shrugged. “Soon. Be patient.”
“Tell that to Marvot. It’s clear that those horses aren’t traveling to a set destination. They’re just wandering around. If he thinks that Grace is of no use to him, he’ll kill her without batting an eyelash.”
“Perhaps he’ll give her another day.”
“Another day? You said that the sirocco was going to happen today.”
“Hassan may be wrong. I told you he was only ninety percent correct.”
Kilmer muttered an oath. “Adam, this is—”
“Wait.” The Sheikh lifted his head. “Do you feel it?”
“What?”
“Wind.”
“I don’t feel anything.”
“Then maybe I was mistaken. I don’t feel it anymore. . . .”
You’re going around in circles, Charlie.” Grace took a swallow of water from her canteen. “I know damn well we’ve seen this dry creek bed before.” In the last two hours he had wandered closer to the foothills of the Atlas Mountains several times. Hell, maybe he was searching for water. “Thirsty?” She got down from the stallion and poured water into the container she’d brought with her. “I shouldn’t complain. You’ve done a good job of keeping moving. Sorry it may be for nothing. I think that sheikh’s weatherman is nuts. Looks like we may have to talk Marvot into trying again to—”
Charlie had lifted his head so quickly he’d spilled the water in the container. He neighed and reared.
“What the hell?”
Hope was rearing too, her eyes glittering wildly.
Scared. They were scared.
And Charlie was looking to the west.
Her gaze flew to the western horizon.
Darkness.
A moment before it had been clear. Now the horizon was a haze of darkness.
Sirocco.
Moving fast, a veil of sand stretching as far as the eye could see. It would be on her in a few minutes.
And she’d be hidden from Marvot and his men.
“Come on, Kilmer,” she whispered. “Come and get us.” She quickly took off the blouse she’d worn over her T-shirt and the scarf with which she’d tied back her hair. With any luck Kilmer and his men would be here within a few minutes, but that sand would be a smothering blanket if inhaled by either her or the horses. She tore the shirt in two and dampened both sections. “You’re not going to like this.” She stepped close to Charlie. “But you’ve got to trust me with this one. I think Hope will let me do it, if she sees you. If you want to save her, you’ll have to let me do it.”
The sand was already stinging her face and the storm wasn’t even on them yet.
Charlie was backing away from her.
“You’ve got to let me help you, Charlie.” She could hear the desperation in her voice. “Trust me.”
He kept backing away.
She stopped and drew a deep breath. “I can’t make you do it. But I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never hurt you. I won’t hurt you now.”
He stopped, staring at her. His mane was lifting with the gusts of wind and his muscles were bunched.
She took a step forward. “Please. I’m going to put this over your eyes and nose so that you can breathe better. And then we’re going to stay together until help comes. Okay?” He’d let her come close. She slowly put the cloth over his eyes and nose and tied it. “You’re fine,” she said soothingly. “Nothing to be afraid of. Now I’m going to do Hope and bring her to you. I’ll loop the rope over both of you so that you won’t wander and lose each other, and I’ll hold the rope so that it won’t entangle you. Be still now.”
Miraculously, he shifted uneasily but didn’t bolt. In seconds she had the cloth over Hope’s eyes and muzzle and stood between them.
She couldn’t breathe. There was sand swirling all around them, striking exposed flesh like tiny knives.
She tied the scarf over her face and put an arm around each horse, burying her hands in their manes. “Please don’t panic,” she whispered. “It’s going to be all right. Just hold on and don’t be scared.” She tried to turn them so they weren’t facing the wind that was blowing with gale force. She had to hold desperately to the horses to keep from falling. Talk to them. Say anything. Just keep them from running into that storm and breaking a leg.
She talked. She sang. She quoted nursery rhymes.
Kilmer, where are you?
Dammit, where is she?” Marvot’s grasp tightened on the binoculars. “I can’t see the bitch.”
“Sirocco,” Hanley said. “Sandstorm.”
“I know it’s a sandstorm,” Marvot said sarcastically. “I want to know when it’s going to be over.”
Hanley shrugged. “An hour. A day. A week. As far as I know, there’s no way of telling.”
“Fuck. Tell Capriano to go after her.”
“If he can find her. Those horses are going to panic and—”
“Get her.”
Hanley nodded and tried to open the door of the RV. The wind slammed it shut. “Shit.” He forced the door open again. “I’ll have to—” His cell phone rang and he accessed. “Hanley.” He listened. “Son of a bitch. If you let them take the kid, you’re dead meat.” He hung up the phone. “The base camp at the oasis is under attack.”
“Kilmer.”
“That’s my guess,” Hanley said. “Maybe he doesn’t know Archer isn’t there.”
“And maybe he does. Maybe he’s out there with her now.” Marvot sat there, thinking. “The bitch may have played me for a fool. We’re pulling out and going back to the oasis. Te
ll the men to forget about the woman and get back to the base.”
“You’re leaving her?”
“Do you think she won’t go back to get the kid? We focus all our firepower on keeping control of the base. Then we only have to wait for Kilmer and her to come after her daughter.”
“And then use the kid as a hostage?”
“Oh, yes. But no one makes a fool of me.” He started the RV. “She’s going to get a surprise when she gets back to the oasis. We’ll see how the bitch likes having a daughter who’s missing a few fingers.”
Gunfire!
Frankie huddled closer to Maestro in the corner of the lean-to.
“It’s okay, boy,” she whispered as her arms tightened around his neck. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
The colt nickered softly, uneasily.
Was he coming?
I’ll kill the colt.
And he would, Frankie thought in anguish, he would.
No, he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let him.
More gunfire. What was happening?
Mom . . .
The sky was darkening and she could see a shadow, a man moving, outside the corral.
Marvot?
Come, Mom. Come, Mom. Please, come.
The sirocco was increasing in force.
And Charlie was beginning to rear again, almost jerking Grace from her feet.
“No. Just a little longer.” Her voice was shaking. “I promise, it will be—”
“Let him go.”
Kilmer. Relief poured through her. She jerked down her scarf and saw him through the stinging barrage of sand. He was only a shadowy figure, but he looked like something from another planet. He was wearing a scuba mask and oxygen tank, the mouthpiece dangling around his neck.
There were several men behind him, but they were too far away to recognize in the storm.
But whoever they were, they were disturbing Charlie and Hope. “Tell them to get back,” she shouted. “You too.”
Kilmer made a motion and the men faded back. “I’ll get out of your way in a minute.” He was buckling a scuba mask on her.
“Frankie. Did you get Frankie?”
“Donavan and Blockman had orders to attack the base camp the minute the sandstorm hit. The horse trailer’s about thirty yards to your right. If you can get the Pair in the trailer, the Sheikh’s men will take care of getting them back to his camp.”
“Get away.” She took a deep breath of the oxygen and tugged gently on the rope. “We’re going blind, Charlie. Just for a little while. Then it will be over.”
Would he go with her or break free?
Charlie reared. Hope reared.
Shit.
She tugged again, then abandoned the rope and wound her hands in both their manes and pulled.
He took a step forward.
One more, Charlie. Take one step at a time.
It couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it was the longest thirty yards of her life.
She led Charlie into the trailer and then went back and led Hope up the ramp. The blowing sand was still bad in the trailer, but the horses would be able to breathe. Best to leave the cloth masks on, though. She patted them. “We’re going to get you out of this and take care of you. I promise you’ll be safe. . . .” She ran out of the trailer and motioned the two men at the end of the ramp to close the doors.
Kilmer grabbed her arm. “Come on. We have to get to Frankie.”
Fear iced through her. “You said Donavan went after her.” She ran beside him toward the SUV. “Hasn’t he reported back?”
“No, but he probably couldn’t get through in this storm. The sirocco hit here first, and it hadn’t gotten to the oasis when I talked to him last. It’s like a blanket hovering over a hundred feet. You know how good Donavan is. He’ll get her out.”
“I don’t know anything.” She jumped into the SUV. “And neither do you. So stop making comforting noises and let’s get to her. Can you see in this storm?”
“No, but I covered the engine and rigged a GPS setup for the oasis.” He started the SUV. “I didn’t have any doubt that you wouldn’t wait for Donavan to bring her to us.”
“And you would? Bullshit. You would have gone without me.”
He nodded. “You’re damn right.”
Donavan got through to Kilmer when he was only a few miles from the oasis. “We’ve secured the camp. We had to beat off an assault by Marvot and the goons he took with him to keep an eye on Grace. They didn’t go after her as we all hoped. But we had a strong enough foothold here.”
“Frankie?”
“She’s not here. We’ve searched every tent. She’s not here.”
“What? She’s got to be there.” He paused. “Unless Marvot had her taken to another location.”
“She’s gone?” Grace whispered.
Kilmer nodded. “Any sign of Marvot?” he asked Donavan.
“No, he took off when we repelled his attack. But I questioned a few of his men a bit forcefully. They said the little girl was in her tent.”
“Don’t get in a panic,” Kilmer told Grace. “Marvot isn’t there. The guards thought Frankie was still in her tent.”
“Don’t tell me not to panic.” Her voice was shaking with fear. “He could have called and given the order to kill her. For all we know she could be buried in the sand somewhere.”
“Donavan and Blockman moved in fast the minute the storm struck. The action was over in minutes. There wouldn’t have been time.”
Maybe. That thought was too unbearable and she tried to think of an alternate scenario. “Tell Donavan to go and check the colt in the lean-to. See if he’s still alive. Marvot threatened to kill him.”
“Right.” Kilmer relayed the message to Donavan.
Five agonizing minutes went by before Donavan came back on the line. “No colt. I looked everywhere.”
“No colt,” Kilmer repeated for Grace’s benefit.
“My God,” Grace said. “She took the colt.”
“What?”
“She was afraid the colt would be killed. The gunfire must have scared her and she ran away with him.”
“Into this storm?”
She nodded jerkily. “She loves that colt. Tell Donavan to try to track—” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus, there wouldn’t be any tracks. Not in this storm. She could die out there.”
“We’ll find her, Grace.”
“Yes, we will.” She couldn’t bear to think anything else. “She’s a smart girl. She wouldn’t go out there without being prepared even if she was scared. We just have to think of a way to track her.”
“As soon as the storm lets up a little more, we’ll get the helicopter and scan the—”
The windshield shattered as a bullet plowed into the leather of the front seat.
“Shit! Duck!” He stomped on the brakes and rolled out the driver’s door. “Stay here.” Which direction had the bullet come from?
Another shot kicked up the sand in front of him. The shot was too accurate. Whoever was out there was in a protected area and could see to shoot. An RV or SUV? And Marvot’s men wouldn’t be shooting without his orders.
“Did you think I’d be beaten, Kilmer?” Marvot’s voice. “Only a temporary setback. I knew you’d be coming to rescue the child and all I had to do was wait. Listen, Archer, we can still work out an agreement. Do you think you’re safe, that the child is safe? You’ll never be safe. Give me what I want and the child will live. If you don’t work with me, you’ll both die and then the child will die. I promise it on my father’s grave. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Time’s up,” Grace murmured. She was lying beside him, a rifle cradled in her arms. It didn’t surprise him. Grace wouldn’t hide in the SUV. “I can’t see anything, can you?”
“No.” Then as the wind shifted he caught sight of the RV. “There’s our target. At three o’clock. I don’t see any other backup for him. I’ll keep him busy. You work your way around and shoot
a hole in that gas tank. I want to see the bastard roast.” He didn’t wait for her to answer but got up and started to zigzag across the dunes.
Bullets.
Close.
Very close.
Get behind the RV.
Grace crawled on her hands and knees, sliding up and down the dunes on her belly.
She could hear the sound of the bullets.
Run, Kilmer.
But how could he run in this thick sand? She could barely crawl. She was sinking and sinking and the—
“Got him, Hanley!”
Marvot’s voice, harsh, triumphant. And terrifying, because it was Kilmer they were talking about. One of those bullets must have struck Kilmer.
Then a string of obscenities. “No, he’s still alive. He’s up again.” Another bullet. “How the hell— Where’s the woman?”
Behind you, bastard.
She took careful aim at the RV gas tank.
Behind you, son of a bitch.
She pressed the trigger.
The RV exploded into a fiery mass of metal!
She buried her body and head in the sand as the shrapnel from the explosion flew in every direction.
When she looked up, the flames of the wreckage were already being smothered by the lack of oxygen caused by the storm. But there was no doubt the explosion had killed Marvot and whoever else was in that RV. No one could have lived through that inferno.
“Nice shot.” Kilmer was limping toward her. “But I could have wished you’d gotten into position a little sooner.”
Relief surged through her. “I was afraid— You should have—” She stopped. “He’s dead. Marvot’s dead.”
“Good. Too bad it wasn’t drawn out a little longer. Like thirty or forty years.”
She closed her eyes as the realization hit home. All those years of hiding and fear were over. Banished in the time it took that RV to explode.