She suddenly stopped, the whites of her eyes glowing in the night as her lids flew wide and she reached into her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. “There was a little boy,” she explained quickly, “he bumped into me at the CASEM store this morning.” She handed him her iPhone, and he was dismayed to see her hand was shaking—the poor woman was a lot more scared than she was leading on, and goddamn you, Rwanda Don, and what you’ve brought on us both! “The screen brightness is set to dim,” she panted, turning around. “Shine it on my back and see if there’s anything stuck to me.”
Silently promising slow and thorough retribution to Rwanda Don, Rock thumbed on the phone’s screen, pointing the nearly infinitesimal light it provided at Vanessa’s back and—
There. Stuck to her back pocket. A tiny, metallic-looking sticker.
A sick foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach. He peeled the sticker off, raised it and the phone close to his face in order to see, and…sure enough.
“Oh, shit,” Vanessa breathed after turning around, and Rock couldn’t help but think, oh, shit, indeed.
Because, pretty as you please, on the back of the sticker was the tiny wiring indicative of a radio-frequency device. The thing was incredibly low-tech, likely only detectable from within a hundred yards, but it was enough. More than enough. Anyone who’d ever set off an alarm at a department store knew just how well RFD tags worked.
Vanessa started shaking her head. “Oh, geez. Oh, geez. I’m so sorry, I—”
“Doesn’t matter now,” he told her and, as if on cue, a bullet smacked into the tree they were hiding behind.
Quickly pocketing Vanessa’s phone, he bent to grab a small stone. Attaching the RFD to the rock, he wound up and sent the sucker flying. A couple of heartbeats later, the sound of gunfire moved off in the direction of his pitch.
“Now’s our chance,” he said, once again reaching for her hand.
He tried, he really tried, not to let the fact that she didn’t hesitate to lace her fingers with his turn his insides to goo. And, oui , if he was being honest with himself, he failed miserably on that front. Because, despite everything, despite the fact that they were running for their very lives, it felt good to have someone beside him, to have her beside him.
He’d been alone for far too long…
Of course, her intense fear of the dark and trying to evade the masked men whose rate of gunfire exceeded their rate of discussion at about a thousand to one probably had a lot to do with her willingness to participate in the whole hand-holding thing. But at this point he’d take what he could get.
“Where to?” she whispered, glancing around, blinking against the dimness.
And the answer to that question wasn’t anything she was going to like. So he simply squeezed her fingers reassuringly and tugged her out from behind the tree. Breaking into a steady jog, keeping one ear cocked to the sounds of the teams scouring the jungle behind them, he threaded his way through the dense undergrowth, using his keen sense of direction and the few landmarks available in the shady mass of grayish-green to help him navigate. A couple of interminable minutes later, they reached their destination…a steep embankment that led to the river below. And after the darkness of the jungle, the break in the canopy and the resultant moonlight beaming down on them seemed bright as a spotlight.
“ Merde! ” It suddenly occurred to him that this might not have been the best move. “I didn’t think to ask before but…can you swim?”
“You’re looking at the women’s one-meter diving champ at McLane High in Fresno,” she said.
Rock breathed a quick sigh of relief while simultaneously wondering if there was anything this woman couldn’t do. So far, she’d managed to locate him when Uncle Sam’s most skilled agents couldn’t, track him through the jungle even when he was trying to outpace her, and outrun the hit
Silently promising slow and thorough retribution to Rwanda Don, Rock thumbed on the phone’s screen, pointing the nearly infinitesimal light it provided at Vanessa’s back and—
There. Stuck to her back pocket. A tiny, metallic-looking sticker.
A sick foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach. He peeled the sticker off, raised it and the phone close to his face in order to see, and…sure enough.
“Oh, shit,” Vanessa breathed after turning around, and Rock couldn’t help but think, oh, shit, indeed.
Because, pretty as you please, on the back of the sticker was the tiny wiring indicative of a radio-frequency device. The thing was incredibly low-tech, likely only detectable from within a hundred yards, but it was enough. More than enough. Anyone who’d ever set off an alarm at a department store knew just how well RFD tags worked.
Vanessa started shaking her head. “Oh, geez. Oh, geez. I’m so sorry, I—”
“Doesn’t matter now,” he told her and, as if on cue, a bullet smacked into the tree they were hiding behind.
Quickly pocketing Vanessa’s phone, he bent to grab a small stone. Attaching the RFD to the rock, he wound up and sent the sucker flying. A couple of heartbeats later, the sound of gunfire moved off in the direction of his pitch.
“Now’s our chance,” he said, once again reaching for her hand.
He tried, he really tried, not to let the fact that she didn’t hesitate to lace her fingers with his turn his insides to goo. And, oui , if he was being honest with himself, he failed miserably on that front. Because, despite everything, despite the fact that they were running for their very lives, it felt good to have someone beside him, to have her beside him.
He’d been alone for far too long…
Of course, her intense fear of the dark and trying to evade the masked men whose rate of gunfire exceeded their rate of discussion at about a thousand to one probably had a lot to do with her willingness to participate in the whole hand-holding thing. But at this point he’d take what he could get.
“Where to?” she whispered, glancing around, blinking against the dimness.
And the answer to that question wasn’t anything she was going to like. So he simply squeezed her fingers reassuringly and tugged her out from behind the tree. Breaking into a steady jog, keeping one ear cocked to the sounds of the teams scouring the jungle behind them, he threaded his way through the dense undergrowth, using his keen sense of direction and the few landmarks available in the shady mass of grayish-green to help him navigate. A couple of interminable minutes later, they reached their destination…a steep embankment that led to the river below. And after the darkness of the jungle, the break in the canopy and the resultant moonlight beaming down on them seemed bright as a spotlight.
“ Merde! ” It suddenly occurred to him that this might not have been the best move. “I didn’t think to ask before but…can you swim?”
“You’re looking at the women’s one-meter diving champ at McLane High in Fresno,” she said.
Rock breathed a quick sigh of relief while simultaneously wondering if there was anything this woman couldn’t do. So far, she’d managed to locate him when Uncle Sam’s most skilled agents couldn’t, track him through the jungle even when he was trying to outpace her, and outrun the hit
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