“I hate that nickname,” Midas muttered.
Triumph spoke up from the back. “Not to ruin the fun, but you mentioned plan B. What’s plan B?”
Demon answered, “Steel has friends in a small village not far from here. About an hour. They can give us a place to spend the night and regroup.”
“What about our friends at the airstrip?”
Midas piped in. “I’ve got no visual, gang. Cameras on the jet are fried, and there’s nothing anywhere near that airstrip. You’re blind.”
“Mierda,” Steel murmured. “Can’t you hack a drone or a satellite or something? Why do we have you?”
“Bite me. I said ‘I’vegotno visual,’ not that I wouldn’t get one eventually.”
Triumph moved as close to the interior window as he could, inserting his head between the driver and passenger. “Midas, I might have an option, but I can’t get to my tablet at the moment. Call Tripoli. He’s got some military contacts in San Diego, and he’s collected a lot of markers over his twenty years in the Navy.He might be able to get you something military, and it will be faster than either of us hacking in.”
“Pays to collect markers. Keep the channel open, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can find something.” The screen went black.
CONTINGENCY PLAN
Triumph
Gettingto an airport and going back home by plane was already determined to be a no-go. Tripoli came through with a military contact who now lived in Colombia. Using satellite footage, he was able to tell them that Guillermo had men at all the commercial and private airports watching for them, and he also had drone footage that showed the illegal runways used by his drug traffickers were also being kept under observation. They were going to have to come up with an alternative exit out of South America.
While the airways would have been easier to use, all the cartel’s men watching the skies meant the roads were relatively clear of everything except police. Those police were in Guillermo’s pocket, but with some help from Midas and Triumph manning their keyboards, fake calls helped distract some of the force when Steel was about to bring the truck into the affected areas.
Once able to get down the highway a bit, Steel turned the truck back into the mountains. He was headed to asmall, no-name village where they would collect supplies before journeying north.
Triumph was thrilled to be back on dirt track roads, where police didn’t patrol, although they still ran the risk of encountering civilians indebted to the cartel. In the end, the danger level was probably a wash. He marveled at the two deadmen. No matter what, they took everything in stride. Even when they swore, it was more of a “here we go again” tone instead of escalated emotion.
Triumph thought he hid his concerns well. He didn’t want to make things worse or frustrate the two men by questioning their every move. Nor did he think he was qualified to offer opinions. But they did ask him for assistance on technical things, which helped him not to think as obsessively about the stakes they faced, and it made him feel useful.
Still, he would be lying if he didn’t admit to being worried. About being followed. About what Guillermo might do next. About what would happen if they got caught, because that was a very real possibility. No one was infallible. Not even these two guys, who seemed in control at all times.
The immediate concern was how incredibly uncomfortable the drive was. However, they had to get out of the path of Guillermo’s reach. As uncomfortable as the drive was for him and the other two men, who were far more used to this type of transportation, he was more worried about Glennon. Being shot was bad enough, but the constant jostling over the uneven roads up into the mountains wasn’t allowing her wound to seal properly, and it continued to ooze blood.
He also worried about Glennon healing, emotionally and mentally.
He hated feeling helpless. When that feeling crossed his personal radar, he couldn’t help but think of Tilly.
Jesus Christ, what a mess. She’d been just a kid. Barely twenty-one, with her whole life ahead of her. Collateral to one psychopath, they’d all tried so hard to help her, but nothing had been successful. The night terrors about being buried alive had lessened. The panic attacks brought on by sensory stimuli had all but stopped. She had still lived with agoraphobia, but when she had Tripoli, Cosmos, or him close by, checking in with her every thirty minutes, she could handle working at the club at least. And she said she really liked her therapist.
They thought they were helping. They thought she was getting better. But they’d missed the signs. She still had nightmares and panic attacks, but she hid them. She struggled if one of the men wasn’t in her line of sight, but she hid her fear, not wanting to be a burden. She’d stopped going to counseling, and they’d never known. Not until it was too late.
Their hubris blinded them to the fact that her trauma was too great, and they all felt extreme guilt for missing the signs that she wasn’t getting better. That day by day, she was vanishing before their very eyes. They hadn’t paid close enough attention, and the cost was her life.
Triumph had never felt so helpless before in his life, and he never wanted to be responsible for another person’s trauma again.
Yet here he was, beginning to feel those same tendrils of unease about Glennon’s recovery. Where would she go? What would she do? How would she survive? According to her, she had no one. She didn’t even have an employer to stabilize her life.
Part of him wanted to instantly step in and make everything better for her. He had room in his apartment. He could help her land back on her feet with whatever she wanted to do. He could take care of her.
But wasn’t that just repeating the same mistakes he made with Tilly? Was he doomed to repeat history and let another woman slip through the cracks into nothingness?
No. He couldn’t do it.
He shouldn’t do it.
He pushed those urges down—pack, pack, pack. He wasn’t qualified to help her that way. He’d focus on what he could do. Help her get home. Do what he could to ease the physical rigors of the trip. Glennon wasn’t Tilly. Glennon was a grown woman with years of experience behind her. She was tough. Smart. She’d be just fine. When they got home, she’d likely thank him and head off to live a quiet life, reinvent herself, and work toward forgetting the past decade.
