Borger zoomed out, looking for something he could give them. Anything.
“There’s a small house to the southeast, but it’s pretty far away. Maybe a mile and a half. Everything else is in the other direction.”
“Too far,” Clay mumbled. He stopped on the edge of the ridge and spotted the area Borger described. Instead of a cliff, soft dirt descended at a more manageable descent. He dropped to the ground, pulling Li Na down with him and sliding down the embankment, his feet out in front of him. He dug in with the heels of his boots, sending rocks and leaves spilling down in front of him.
Directly behind him, Li Na did the same.
When they reached the bottom, Clay pulled her through the water and waded across. When they reached the other side, Clay brought the phone back up to his ear.
“You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the house?”
“Roughly four o’clock from your current direction.”
“Okay.”
Borger was now studying a different image of the same region, this one taken at night. He examined the area where the small house was situated.
“Uh, Clay. There may be a problem. I don’t see any lights at that place. I’m not sure if it’s occupied. I’m looking for another option.”
There was no answer.
“Clay?” Borger checked his phone. The call had ended.
The terrain gradually leveled off, allowing Clay and Li Na to pick up speed. Overhead, the sound of the helicopters was followed only seconds later by searchlights.
Clay quickened his pace. A mile and a half was a long way over this kind of terrain. He ground to a halt near a tight cluster of trees and released Li Na’s hand. He then removed his goggles and looked up at a bright beam of light sweeping the forest behind them.
He pulled the teenage girl in close and pressed them both against a tree trunk as the searchlight passed over them. He watched it continue on before looking down at Li Na.
“There’s a house nearby, but we have to move faster or we’ll never make it. Can you run on your own?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Stay close to me.”
Not far away, Qin’s helicopter finally rose into the air once the pilot had wrapped his bloody hand in a thick bandage. He listened through his headphones to the exchange between the other two helicopters searching the ground for Li Na and the American.
“If you see them,” Qin broke in, “stop them! Even if you have to shoot. They must not escape!”
Once above the trees, Qin could see the aircraft lights from the other two choppers. One to the southeast and the other to the northeast. The rest of the soldiers were on the ground, sweeping forward in the same directions.
Even in his panic-induced rage, Qin knew he was lucky. These men were some of the best in the Chinese Army, and he couldn’t have hoped for a better group to provide aid. But it was more than coincidence. More than luck. It was fate. The message was clear. Destiny was on Qin’s side.
Now the girl and the American were in the middle of nowhere. Headed in the worst possible direction. And all they could do was run.
58
That was exactly what Clay and Li Na were doing. Together they weaved in and around the dark tree trunks, stopping frequently to remain hidden. The bright curtains of light pierced the canopies overhead and bathed the ground, passing ominously back and forth.
After another pass, Clay dropped his bag and pulled out a dark thermal blanket. He wrapped it around Li Na to cover her lighter clothing. It would make it easier to blend with the ground beneath them, as long as they were not moving when spotted. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was better than nothing.
If Qin had any experience, or brains, he already had men on the ground following them. Having to stop when the light approached meant they had to move even faster in the darkness. The men on the ground would be gaining. Their shrinking lead and the house ahead of them were now all that was separating them from Qin.
The sound of the helicopter’s thundering blades passed over once more and had just begun to fade when they darted out together again, running for all they were worth.
It felt a hell of a lot longer than a mile and a half.
When Clay found the small house, he was expecting something more…recognizable. Instead, what Borger had spotted from the air was little more than an old shack. More than that, it looked as though it was barely standing, positioned in a small clearing and surrounded by tall tallow trees, their canopies fighting for the open sky overhead.
On the ground, near the structure, were tools and a wooden cart, its wheels appearing ready to fall off. On the ground was a pile of something Clay couldn’t quite make out. But what caught his eye was the soft glow of light visible through a very old, but surprisingly clear window.