Crooked River(78)
Another jolt, and the voice of the captain came over the system, announcing that, due to severe thunderstorms, the flight was being diverted from Fort Myers to Tallahassee. There were the usual apologies while the passengers groaned and hissed.
Tallahassee. Where the hell was that in relation to Fort Myers? Coldmoon fished out the in-flight magazine and looked it up, then cursed under his breath. It was way up in the Panhandle, hundreds of miles to the north, a five-hour drive at least.
Another reason to hate flying, he thought.
45
WHAT’S GOING ON?” Gladstone demanded as Pendergast ushered them out of the lab and into the parking lot. She noticed his piercing eyes casting about. “Are we in some sort of danger?”
Without answering, he unlocked his car: a new Range Rover, both sturdy and sleek. “Get in. Both of you.”
She slid into the passenger seat while Lam got in the back. Pendergast started the engine and headed out of the lot, driving slowly.
“We’re dealing,” he said, “with a powerful organization. Through hacking your system, they now know that we know their location—somewhere up Crooked River. I have no doubt they’re reacting to that information as we speak, which puts all of us in immediate danger. Both of you must go to ground.”
“Why don’t you call the FBI or the task force, get a team or something to protect us?”
“Because the investigation has been thoroughly penetrated. There’s nobody we can trust. And there’s also a time factor.” Pendergast swiveled toward her. “I’m bringing you both to a bungalow in Corkscrew Swamp, south of here, where you’ll be safe until further notice.”
“What the hell?” Lam asked. “We’re going in there?”
“Yes. For some time now, I’ve suspected we might be dealing with an adversary more formidable than anticipated. As time went on, I became increasingly convinced, just as I also grew more certain that our task force was leaking information—accidentally or otherwise. It was then I established a safe house in case things went awry; after all, you two are civilians, working at my request, and should not be exposed to danger. But it’s now clear that you are. I realized neither how quickly the threat was accelerating…nor how breathtaking its scope had become. I can blame only myself for not treating it with greater seriousness—when it was still containable.”
“Safe house? Containable? The hell with this.” And Lam reached for the door handle. But just as he did, Pendergast gunned the supercharged engine, pressing his passengers back against the leather seats with the acceleration, running a red light as he headed south from Fort Myers on Route 41.
They blasted down 41 at speeds exceeding a hundred miles an hour as the sun sank toward the horizon in a blaze of orange and red thunderheads. It was one of those spectacular sunsets that looked like the end of the world. Gladstone had been frightened by Pendergast’s pronouncements, but as they rocketed down the highway she wondered if it wasn’t just an overreaction. He didn’t seem like a dramatic sort of personality, but then again, she didn’t really know him.
Before reaching Bonita Springs, Pendergast turned off the highway, and they proceeded east on an unmarked tar road that quickly left the developed areas behind, stretching like an arrow through yellow pine plantations, swamp, and cypress groves. Soon, in an orgy of blood-red clouds, the sun set and a purple twilight rose.
She noticed Pendergast accelerating still further and, glancing behind, saw a distant pair of headlights. Despite their speed, the lights appeared to be pacing them.
“You know there’s a car following us,” Lam said in undisguised alarm.
“Yes,” Pendergast replied.
She felt a wave of panic. Christ, they were out in the middle of nowhere. Worse, she saw Pendergast remove a massive gun from his suit and lay it on the seat next to him.
“Holy shit!” said Lam. “You really planning to use that?”
Pendergast said nothing.
How the hell had they been followed? How did anyone know where they were going? But then she heard a faint throb from above—and, a moment later, saw lights ahead. They looked stationary, blocking the road.
Even as she took notice of this, Pendergast was slowing down. Now he turned off his lights, and a moment later swung the Rover from the tar road onto a dirt lane that led away at a right angle. There was just enough twilight left in the air to see—barely—but once they were in the trees it was dark. The vehicle slammed through potholes, leaping and bucking. Gladstone had no idea how Pendergast could see where the hell he was going. The sound of throbbing rotors above increased, and through the treetops a chopper came into view, banking to the right and accelerating toward them.
“Undo your seat belts,” Pendergast said.
She fumbled with the clasp, her heart pounding. In the backseat, she could hear Lam breathing loudly, hyperventilating.
“Get ready to exit. If we’re still at speed, make sure to open your door completely, then jump away at an angle, tuck, and roll.”
Pendergast veered off the lane onto what was little more than a track through a denser, tree-covered area. He gunned the big engine, and the Rover slewed through marshy bottoms and mud holes, once again in almost complete darkness. Now the chopper was almost on top of them, keeping pace. A brilliant beam of light stabbed through the tree cover, illuminating the area around with crazy, moving shadows.