Hostage Zero

“To one of the many factories.”

“ Exactamente. This one here.” He pointed back to the spot where he said Evan was.

“How do you know it’s this one?”

“Because of the white hair. Word of such things travels quickly among the Indian villages. This one here”-the spot he pointed to this time had no marking at all-“has been treated particularly badly by Ponder’s men. Many rapes and murders. No men left in the village at all. No boys, even, beyond ocho anos. They have all been killed or put to work in the factories. Slave labor. So when a boy who looks like the boy you seek comes through, he is noticed. He was there yesterday. Only one factory is close by. That is where you will find the blond boy.” Jose gave a weak smile, clearly proud of himself.

Then it disappeared. “When Ponder discovers that you’re still alive, he will kill my wife and children.”

Jonathan sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Harvey offered, “Lie to him. Call and say that you killed us. That would buy time.”

“I wish it would,” Josie said. He closed his eyes. “I was supposed to deliver your heads to him,” he said.

Ten minutes later, they were ready to go. While Jonathan and Boxers managed the business of loading two vehicles, Harvey made final preparations with Josie. As gently as possible, he dragged the man to a shady spot and propped him against two rucksacks whose owners no longer needed them.

“Are you comfortable?” Harvey asked.

Josie looked terrified. As promised, Harvey had given him an injection for the pain, but it hadn’t touched the man’s fear of dying. “Please take me with you,” Josie begged. “Don’t make me die out here.”

Harvey avoided eye contact. “Boss says no.”

“Please. You can talk him into it. You look like a nice young man.”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.”

“Please.”

Harvey’s stomach churned. “I can’t,” he said. He stood.

“Then kill me,” Josie said. “Give me another shot. Give me five shots. Make me go to sleep and-”

Jonathan stepped into Harvey’s space. “We’re not assassins, Josie,” he said. “He won’t drug you to death, and before you ask, I won’t shoot you to death. It’s not what we do.” He put a hand on Harvey’s shoulder. “Go ahead and mount up. We’ll be in the Range Rover.”

Jose tried to sit up more, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. “Mr. Jones. All those years.”

“They’re all in the past. I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t done what you did.”

“But my family.”

“They’ll be killed, I suppose.”

“You could help them.”

Jonathan paused. He didn’t want to rise to that bait. The man was dying, for God’s sake. He was desperate for some thread of hope. Behind him, one of the Blazers rumbled to life.

“Good-bye, Josie.”

Jose took a huge breath and seemed to focus all his energy. “I don’t want to die here!” he shouted.

Jonathan turned his back on his old colleague and walked away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

As the sound of the approaching chopper grew louder, Navarro pulled an AR-10 rifle off the rack and hovered it in the air for Gail. “You know how to shoot?” he asked.

Gail swallowed her annoyance. He had no way of knowing her past. “I’m actually pretty good,” she said.

“I hope so,” he said. “Take this.”

Gail accepted the weapon. She recognized it for what it was-a 7.62-millimeter monster that would put a hole through anything. “Aren’t we overreacting a bit?”

“Overreacting would be shooting at a news helicopter,” Navarro quipped, reaching back to the rack. “Repelling an airborne assault is quite the opposite.” He grabbed a pristine 1950s vintage M-14-the precursor to Gail’s rifle, and by most estimates one of the finest weapons ever manufactured for the military.

“I need ammo,” Gail said.

But Navarro was ahead of her. He handed her two full magazines. Including the one that was already installed, that gave her sixty rounds, plus the fifteen in her Glock. Add all of that to the sixty that Navarro took for himself and they could have themselves quite the war.

“We don’t get traffic in this airspace,” Navarro explained. “We don’t get visitors, either. To get both on the same day means that someone’s about to die. I don’t want it to be me.” He headed for the back door.

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

Navarro didn’t answer, and Gail realized that she’d find out by keeping up.

Navarro moved with surprising agility as he made a beeline for the back door, pausing only long enough to turn the three locks that kept it closed. Out here, the chop of the approaching rotor blades was louder, registering in Gail’s chest as a deep thump that had a physical force to it.

“Definitely coming here,” Navarro said, perhaps to himself, but loudly enough for Gail to hear. He seemed to know where he was going and what he had planned. And why not? He’d had enough years of solitude to plan for just about any eventuality.