Without rising, she answered, “Maybe.” Her chin rose in challenge, revealing a purple bruise on the right side. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m your ticket out of here,” he said and glanced again at his watch. “We have exactly three minutes to get to our extraction point.”
If possible, her eyes narrowed even more. “And why should I go with you?”
He blinked. “I was under the impression you were a hostage in this compound.”
She nodded. “That’s true. But if I go with you, I could as easily be a hostage to you in another compound. Give me one reason why I should trust you?”
Despite the time ticking away, Crusher’s lips twitched. She had a point. “Look. I’m one of the good guys. Trust me or not. Stay if you like. But I’m going to make the extraction point in two and a half minutes. Come with me if you want out of this jungle.”
The lines in her forehead deepened, and she chewed on the bottom of her lip for a second before nodding. “I’m not sure I should trust you, but it beats staying here.”
“Then let’s go.” Without waiting for her, he turned and started for the door. When he didn’t hear her footsteps behind him, he spun back. “What part of two minutes?—”
She still sat where he’d found her, only she held up her hand a few inches above the white table top, sporting a handcuff snugly secured to her wrist. The other end was attached to the table.
His jaw hardened. The bastards had chained her to the table.
They didn’t have time for this. He hurried across the floor toward her, glancing down at the ring of keys he’d used to unlock the door into the lab. He selected what appeared to be a smaller key, one that could fit into the lock on a set of handcuffs. She held out her wrist as he inserted the key and twisted. The lock clicked, and the cuffs released.
Dr. Hale rubbed the red ring where the cuff had rubbed her skin raw.
“How long have you worn that cuff?” he asked, clenching his teeth.
“Six weeks, except for the occasional respite of using the bathroom or showering once a week.”
Any residual regret over killing the guards vanished. “Come on, we have less than two minutes to get out of here and to the extraction zone.”
Instead of turning toward the door, she reached for the laptop.
“We don’t have time to take anything,” he said.
“I’m not taking anything,” she responded without looking up, her hands moving furiously. “But I’m not leaving any more than I have to for Vasquez and his people to get their hands on, if I can help it.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she deleted files one after the other.
Crusher glanced at his watch as the seconds ticked by. “We have to go.”
She punched one last key, lifted the laptop and smashed it against the edge of the table, breaking the screen and the keyboard. Just in case it wasn’t enough, she slammed it again, the two halves breaking apart in her hands. She dropped them to the floor and swept the microscope, glass slides and centrifuge off the table, adding to the pile of broken machines and debris littering the floor. Then she sprinted for the door, calling out over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for? We have a minute to get to the—what did you call it?”
“Extraction point.” Crusher caught up to her before she reached the door and went out first. Once out of the lab, he made a sharp right and headed for the rear exit, pushing through the door as a shout sounded from somewhere up front.
“Can you run?” he asked.
“If it means staying alive, hell yeah,” she said and raced after him.
A brief warmth of admiration for the doctor spread through Crusher as he rounded the corner of the building, heading for the two trucks he’d spotted parked there on his quick recon. He dove into the lead vehicle.
Dr. Hale pulled herself up into the passenger seat while Crusher searched for the key that would start the engine. When he found it, he twisted it in the ignition. The engine growled and died.
Come on! Crusher turned the key again, holding his breath. Again, the engine growled, started to die but then rumbled to life. He shifted into gear and slammed his foot onto the accelerator, shooting past the front of the building where four armed men bearing rifles stood over the dead guards. As soon as the truck raced past, they aimed their weapons and fired.
“Get down!” Crusher yelled, leaning low over the steering wheel as bullets blasted through the back window and pierced the front windshield.
Dr. Hale ducked below the dash, hanging onto the armrest as the truck bounced down the rutted dirt road, taking a curve faster than the tires could grip. The truck bed fishtailed, almost sending them into a spin.
Crusher fought the steering wheel, bringing it back in line as he increased the speed, heading for the EZ just past the ridge.
As he cleared the pass through the hills, the landing zone came into view, the helicopter hovering above the tree line.
