Page 90 of No Angel


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We all slumped in relief. And then, as things sank in, we exchanged amazed looks. We did it. Everyone was still alive, and we were on our way home. Something occurred to me and I checked the time in panic. I hadn’t even thought about the gold since Olivia fell from the bridge, but—

My heart soared. There was still time! Just. If we flew full speed back to Quito, Olivia and I could still make the rendezvous at the airfield. We could slip away from the Justice Department and go and get the gold. It could all still work!

I turned to look at Olivia, grinning…only to see her watching me, her face tight with worry. What’s wrong? I mouthed.

She motioned me to the very front of the passenger area, away from the others. There was nowhere to sit and the ceiling was too low to stand so we crouched awkwardly. I pressed close and she put her lips to my ear: it was the only way I could hear her without her yelling.

“We can’t leave yet,” she told me.

43

GABRIEL

She told me everything. My stomach churned. I’m no saint, but slaughtering a whole village for oil? It was that special level of callousness that you only got from dictators and CEOs.

“We’ve got to save them,” said Olivia, her mouth still pressed to my ear.

I nodded.

I mean, I went to nod, I tried to. But…my head stayed still.

Olivia pushed back so that she could look at me. She frowned, confused. What? She mouthed.

I gazed back at her, unable to speak. I couldn’t put it into words, I didn’t want to say what was in my head, but…

I saw the realization dawn in her eyes and I braced myself for the anger. But she didn’t look mad. She looked disappointed, which was worse.

“The gold?” she asked in my ear.

I felt myself folding inward, shrinking. Just a week ago, I’d strode into her infirmary feeling like a king. Now I felt like something she’d scraped off her shoe. I grabbed her and held her against me, my lips brushing her ear as I tried to explain. “We have to go right now. We can have it, Doc, we can have all of it, the four hundred million, the new life, it’s all right there!” I pointed out through the windshield, towards Quito. “But we gotta go now, right now, the guy won’t wait, and this is our last chance.”

I pushed back, looking into her eyes, needing to see her reaction. Jesus, of all the conversations in my life, why did this one have to be in a deafening helicopter?

Tears were welling up in her eyes. They need us, she mouthed.

I grabbed her hands. My mouth moved but I couldn’t think of what to say. I knew they needed us. When I thought of what the army was going to do to them, I wanted to throw up. But…

It was four hundred million dollars. My money, money I’d sweated and bled for. I’d spent three years in jail for it. My whole career as a thief had been building towards it. I couldn’t give it up. I leaned forward again and I spoke into the delicate, shell-like ear. “When we get to Quito, we can tell people what’s going on,” I tried.

“Tell who?! The government? The government is in on this!”

“The UN, then!”

“And what will they do? Sanctions?! Gabriel, those people don’t have days or weeks, they’ve got hours.”

I caught myself wavering and scrambled to encase myself in cold, impenetrable rock. I was a criminal, goddammit, a thief. I’d always put myself first, ever since I got kicked out of the Marines and I couldn’t afford to go soft now. When we were rich and living on a beach, I’d donate to charity: hell, I’d start my own charity.

I drew back and shook my head.

Her lower lip shook and she pressed her lips tight together, then leaned forward for one final try. “There are children, Gabriel.”

I closed my eyes. I could feel the rock I’d just built around me beginning to fracture and break. I sucked in air through my nose, huffed it out through my mouth. Four. Hundred. Million. Dollars. I couldn’t give it up. I just couldn’t. “I always told you I’m not a hero,” I grated.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “And I always told you, you are.”

I realized she could have just told JD instead, and he would have pulled rank. She wanted me to make the decision. She wanted me to be the man she thought I was.

Goddammit. I crouched there, eyes closed, battling with myself, for five more breaths. Then I slammed my fist against the ceiling of the Huey and turned to the others.

“Change of plan,” I yelled. And started telling them about the village. It was difficult to speak, with the pain that was going on in my chest. It’s impossible to describe the feeling of losing your fortune, your dream, your life’s work.

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