He turned toward it, breathing hard, eyes wide-open, every muscle in his body ready. He should have been scared, should have worried that he’d been found, that everything would come to a bloody head, that it was over and the bad guys had won.
But God help his messed-up soul, he felt nothing but relief.
And, if he was honest, a guilty hint of excitement.
Chapter 3
Leo had been in the air for over an hour when she spotted the other aircraft.
“Took you long enough.”
The helicopter swooped over the western ridge behind her, blotting out what sunlight remained as it gained on her with frightening speed. There went her chances of carrying out a quick and easy evacuation.
“I’ve seen worse,” she muttered, reassuring the plane, maybe, or herself. “Walk in the park for an old girl like you, Dolores. Just a walk in the park.”
No way could she escape the power behind those engines. Just wasn’t possible in the tiny, ancient Cub. Oh, Dolores was quaint with her fabric-covered fuselage and top speed of eighty-seven miles per hour. She’d no doubt been a wild ride back in 1947, but she left a whole lot to be desired when it came to evasive flight maneuvers.
Leo considered her options.
Lead them away.
Pure suicide. And pointless. Especially if they already knew where to find Campbell Turner. Amka’s cousin had heard them mention precise coordinates. If she headed in the wrong direction, they could grab Turner and then come after her.
And where would she go? There was nothing but mountains on three sides, chunks of rock deadlier than the approaching bird. Even if she could contort the aircraft into physics-defying evasive maneuvers, they’d follow. With absurd ease.
She craned left, trying to get a better look at them.
No dice.
At least the dizziness was gone, so that was good. Nothing like a race and a chase to get rid of food poisoning. Not the recommended remedy, but it would do in a pinch. And, hey, since she was looking at the bright side, nobody was shooting at her, which was—
Ping.
A hole appeared in the windshield.
Oh crap.
Another bullet punched through the fuselage behind her. Her instincts told her to duck, but that wouldn’t help. She might as well be flying a hot air balloon for all the protection the Cub provided.
Leo banked right, trying to make herself as small as possible.
She wasn’t going out this way. Wouldn’t allow it. She forced her breathing to slow and shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Nobody shooting,” she muttered, as if talking to a copilot. “No stupid shooting.What kind of idiot jinxes herself by thinking that?” A bullet hit one of the wings, followed by another.
Talk about well and truly screwed.
No. Not screwed. Thrown slightly off course.
At least she’d been obliged to pilot the two-seater from the back seat. If she’d been in front, she’d be dead. And how lucky was she that the bullets hadn’t smashed through glass?
Because there’s nothing to smash through.
She’d been miffed about that earlier, but suddenly it seemed like one hell of a silver lining. On many levels. For example, not having a door or windows had forced her to put on every single item of cold weather gear she had. Now when she’d have to land out here in the middle of Nowheresville, Alaska, she wouldn’t die of hypothermia. Not immediately, at least.
Okay. There was a decision to be made. Fast as lightning, she took in the scenery, eyes flicking left and right, mind calculating.
She had to land. The question was, did she have time to do it on the lake? And would the stupid ice even hold?
Squinting against the blasting winds, with the lowering sun and the approaching helicopter at her back, Leo eyed the glacier-fed waterway slithering between the peaks, reflecting sunlight like some holy fire serpent. Mountains, pines, a slender river, too curved to take head-on.
