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CHAPTER
99
THERE WAS nothing. No ships visible certainly, but not even a light on the water that would indicate one was close by. And to impede matters more, a fog was rolling in from off the strait. Shaw stood and looked over at the others and then at the rocks below. “We can climb down there, hide until something comes along.”
The other three looked wearily up at him. “Postpone the inevitable?” said Whit.
“I like to think of it as securing a defensive position. At least then he has to come down and try and take us.”
“Or stand up here on the high ground and pick us off one by one,” pointed out Reggie. “We never even saw from where he shot Rice. But it was a hell of a long way away.”
“You have a better idea?” asked Katie.
Reggie toed the rock with her sneaker. “Not really, no.”
Shaw looked back at where they had come from. “What are you thinking?” asked Reggie.
“He outmaneuvered us once. I’d like to return the favor this time.”
“How? He has every tactical and strategic advantage.”
Whit added, “And he has guns and dogs that would make the Hound of the Baskervilles seem like a bleeding Pekinese.”
Shaw squatted down, thought about this. He looked at the lightening sky. “The fog could help us hide.”
Reggie nodded. “It could, but chances are pretty good the sun will burn it off and then we’re exposed again. And while we can probably make our way down those rocks, I don’t see us making our way back up. And there’s not a lot of cover down there. We could be halfway down and he could stand up here and pick us off.”
“Only good thing about that,” said Whit, “is that the dogs won’t be able to get down there to have a nice dinner.”
Katie stood. “Jesus, people, Shaw is trying to think of a way to get us out of here and all you can do is—”
Shaw put a hand over her mouth and looked around. They all heard it. Something was moving to the right and above them. Shaw motioned to the others to follow him. They set off to the left, away from the noise.
“Look, Shaw!” said Reggie, pointing back.
They all stood still, watching as it snaked down the cliff. A rope with a bag attached. It reached the bottom and the rope went slack, the plastic bag fell over on its side.
“Take it,” said a voice.
They all looked up.
Pascal was standing at the top of the cliff.
Shaw and Whit automatically held up their knives.
Pascal grinned and shook his head. The fog was rolling in faster now, almost obscuring him. “Take it. It will help you.”
Watching him closely, Shaw moved cautiously toward the bag. When he reached it and saw what was inside it, his jaw slackened in amazement. He pulled out the gun and the cell phone.
Pascal said, “The phone is fully juiced. You have full bars. There is a cell tower that Mr. Waller had put in a mile from here. Call whoever you need to. And its GPS chip is activated.”
“Why are you doing this?” Shaw asked.
“He wants me to drive you that way,” said Pascal, pointing back the way they had come. “About a mile from here where the two trails converge. There is high ground to the west. If I had to guess, he will be there waiting.”
“You haven’t answered my question.” Shaw automatically checked the gun to make sure the mag was loaded and all critical elements were in working order.
Surprisingly, Pascal looked over at Reggie and Whit. “I hoped you would’ve killed him in Gordes. The information I passed on to your colleagues I thought was sufficient. But Rice got in the way. He followed you,” Pascal said, pointing at Reggie. “To the church.”
