He had to be careful. If any of the others shared the pathway because they shared her genetic makeup and he touched them, they couldn’t realize someone was communicating with Jonquille. She’d been very cautious. He had to be equally cautious. He followed the psychic footprints leading to her, sending little flicks and strikes very gently and softly, a melody of lightning using one of the actual refrains from the song she loved. He waited, knowing he was right but still worried that his woman was out there with a number of men and perhaps helpless.
A few flicks answered him. The relief was tremendous. He had already composed the next line. You right. He chose actual lyrics so he could use the notes, flicking them with ease. When he needed to, he would compose a detailed message, using the sequence, but for now, he’d find out if she was being treated humanely.
She let a few moments go by while his heart thudded in reaction to the wait. Yes. Delaying them.
She was giving them time to set up to find a way to retrieve her. He took his time trying to figure out the best thing to ask next. Gunthrie’s? They had talked at length about Luther Gunthrie at the Sawyers’. Would the squirrel men risk talking in front of her? Or, like those she feared would be able to hear them speaking telepathically to her, could she hear them?
The little flicks came after what seemed forever. Time seemed to be rushing past. He had no idea how close the elite soldiers were, but if they didn’t take out the ground crew, they would be overwhelmed with sheer numbers. It would be impossible to get Jonquille back. Heard kill old man twice coming from someone there. The leader here objected. The one there said it was done.
For some reason hearing that, even though he already knew it, sent a spark of anger through Rubin all over again. These soldiers had no idea Luther was anything but a gentle old man protecting his home and his still. The orders were very clear to hunt him down and kill him. That was why there was so much activity. They wanted him found and out of the way. And the team leader here had lied to the one in the field. Luther wasn’t dead. The ground crew was still hunting him. Why did that man want him killed?
Arrival?
Just before dark.
She answered that immediately and then fell silent. He had the feeling she wouldn’t respond again. It made sense that the soldiers would bring in a plane just before dark. They would want to ensure it would be when few travelers would be on the road. The plane would be small and would fly only Jonquille and a couple of the elite soldiers out with her. The others would go by road. They wouldn’t want to be seen. Once the plane was in the air, they would wait for nightfall and they would leave, taking their equipment with them. Luther would be dead, but what was the death of one old man? If they buried him deep, they would expect that no one would look too hard for him.
Squirrel man is in the tree above the falls. He’s sitting up there with a pair of binoculars, directing his crew. He’s talking to someone though. Do you want me to figure out what he’s saying? I can read lips.
Yes.
Diego was silent a moment. Some kind of double cross going on here, Rubin. This man is saying the major doesn’t suspect anything. They’ll get the package on the plane and once it’s in the air, they’ll kill all the soldiers. His men will surround them and kill them. They won’t be expecting it, so they won’t have a chance to fight back.
He was silent again, watching the leader as he listened to whomever was on the other end of the phone. He’s talking to someone higher up. Said the major trusts him implicitly. Now that that pilot has been taken prisoner, replaced with their pilot, she’ll be going to this person’s laboratory. A lot of laughter. The person on the phone will get information from pilot. Has chemicals and his men can practice techniques on extracting information. It should be fun for them. This bozo says not to worry, he will handle everything here and won’t let anything happen to the package.
Rubin rubbed his temple, shaking his head. That was all they needed. A conspiracy. A double cross. Take him out when you have the shot.
I’ve got a clear shot to him right now. Rubin, once I do, we’ll have to move fast, pick a spot and get out of here. There are two left in camp. We don’t want them to get to their radios before we get to them.
Rubin marked his targets. He could hit them on the run. You take the leader, I’ll take the other two. “Luther, back us up, but stay out of the way. When we hunt, we don’t usually worry about anyone but the two of us.”
“You don’t worry about me. Do what you have to do.”
Rubin took the man at his word. He’d survived this long, and he’d had a good run knowing his own strengths. Let’s do this, Diego.
Diego, staying in the shadow of the tunnel so as not to chance alerting the squirrel man with movement, slid his rifle forward. He took better care of his rifle than any other piece of equipment he had. That rifle was a part of him. He knew every little quirk she had. Squirrel man came into his vision, barking orders to his men, anger on his face. Diego squeezed the trigger.
Rubin took his targets instantly, first one then the second one as he slid from the tunnel onto the ground and came up behind the brush he’d chosen, his guns in hand already firing a second time just to be certain. The sound of the bullets was so close they sounded as if they were on top of one another even though he’d fired two shots from inside the tunnel and two out.
Rubin’s targets were down and the squirrel man was crumpling, falling from the tree in a macabre, slow-motion fall that had him bouncing from branch to branch.
You certain he’s dead, Diego? Rubin remembered how difficult the squirrel men seemed to be to kill.
He’s dead, Diego confirmed.
Red-shouldered hawk flying over two soldiers just to the south of us, Diego said. They alerted to the sound of gunfire and are heading this way. One is talking into his radio.
Diego shared the exact images with Rubin so he could see where the two soldiers were and how fast they were coming toward them. The two brothers took off together, sprinting through the brush, rushing to intercept, staying low as they ran, keeping a space of about twenty feet.
The hawk above them let out a distinctive kee-ahh cry. The sound was one used for alarm or a claim on his territory. In this case, the bird warned Diego the soldiers were closing in on the two brothers fast. Diego dropped to one knee. Rubin did the same. This time, both men used the bow, wanting silence. They hadn’t had room in the tunnel, but here, in the woods, they did. Not only did Luther have bows and arrows, crossbows and arrows, he had explosives as well that could be fired using them.
They heard the two soldiers before they saw them. Heavy breathing. The snapping of twigs. A branch creaking as one of them shoved it out of the way. A muffled curse.
“Do you think that old man got him?”
“No way in hell. Something’s wrong with the radio is all. That old man is up there dead. That’s what the vultures are after.”
Diego and Rubin released arrows at the same time. They’d grown up hunting with arrows long before bullets. Bullets were a luxury. The arrows flew straight and true, going straight through the throats of both men. The second arrow took them through the heart.
Two over by Luther’s shack. They’re looking at the equipment. Met up with one of the sentries. The other sentry is on his way around. Must have called him, Diego reported.