“How do you know they will?”
“It's a certainty. We have more evidence than we revealed to the media.”
“Or to us?”
“We would have shared if Graham had surrendered peacefully.” He turned to the agent next to him. “Take four men and search the road and brush. Don't take chances. These are criminals who— What the hell is that?”
The metallic throbbing of rotors was followed by the sight of a helicopter coming through the pass. The aircraft dipped and then started a descent into the valley below.
“I don't like this.” Jurgens ran toward his car. “Leopold, have one of your cars stay here. You come along. We may need you. . . . The rest of you pile into those cars and get down there.”
“Screw you,” Leopold said. “I'm not taking orders from a gun-happy son of a bitch who—”
“Suit yourself.” Jurgens jumped behind the wheel of the car, and the vehicle leaped forward as he jammed on the accelerator.
“They're coming like bats out of hell.” Galen glanced over his shoulder at the four cars speeding down the mountain road. In a matter of seconds they'd reach the valley. “It's going to be close.”
The helicopter was landing in a snow-covered field a half mile from them. Jesus, it seemed like a hundred to Alex. “Are we going to make it?”
“We'll make it, but with all their firepower the takeoff may be pretty chancy.”
Ken's helicopter. Exploding. Flaming. Splintering.
“Or maybe not . . .” Galen murmured, his gaze on the rearview mirror. “I believe Judd may be doing his thing.”
“What?” She looked over her shoulder in time to see the lead car swerve violently and then crash into a tree.
The second car's front tire blew and the driver frantically tried to right the car, but it spun sideways and the third car piled into it.
“One more, Judd,” Galen said as he parked the car beside the helicopter. “One more.”
The fourth car's front tire blew, but the driver managed to stop before he piled into the other two cars.
“Bull's-eye.” Galen jumped out of the car and ran toward the helicopter. “Let's get out of here.”
She was right behind him. “What about Morgan? Are we just going to leave him?”
“He said he'd contact us later.” He opened the door of the helicopter and lifted her inside. “I don't think we have to worry. He seems to have the situation in hand.”
“He's on foot and he's just shot the tires out of four FBI cars. I don't call that having the situation in hand. They're going to go after him.”
“He'll have a head start.” He waved at the pilot to take off. “That's all he needs.”
“He's on foot. They'll catch him.”
“He was on foot in Afghanistan after he took out a warlord who was sheltering Al Qaeda terrorists. He had to travel seventy miles through unfriendly territory before he was able to arrange a pickup.”
“He told you that?”
Galen shook his head. “Judd doesn't talk much. But he's something of a legend to the Rangers.”
She gazed out the window at the wreckage on the hillside as the helicopter rose from the ground. A man had gotten out of the car that crashed into the tree and was striding toward the pileup. He was holding his arm and there was blood on his cheek. There was something familiar about him, but his head was down and she couldn't identify him. But she could identify the rage and tension that characterized the man's every movement.
And that anger would be directed at Judd Morgan, who had stayed behind so that they could escape.
“Call him,” she told Galen. “Set up a meeting place near here. We're not leaving him.”
“He said to get you to somewhere safe. They may have already radioed for helicopters and reinforcements. Besides, he's probably nowhere near that pileup. He took his shots and got out of there.”
“Call him.”
He smiled. “Whatever you say.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. A moment later he shook his head. “He's got his phone turned off. Makes sense. He sure as hell wouldn't want it to go off at a sensitive moment. Now, may we get the hell out of here?”
“I guess we can't do anything else.” She gazed down at the scene below. More agents were getting out of the cars. They were talking on phones, and the first man who'd gotten out of the car was standing and staring up at the helicopter.
“My God, it's Jurgens.”
“Why are you surprised? He's the one who put that all-points bulletin out on you.”
“I know . . . it's just . . . I guess what you told me about him never really hit home until I saw him down there.” Her lips twisted sardonically. “And he told me he wanted to set me up in a safe house.”