Then she guessed the more likely reason. She pictured her abandoned truck, the deflated airbag. The crash would have triggered an automatic GPS alert. Bill Howard must have picked it up after her last attempt to communicate with him was cut off. Knowing him, he would have sent out an immediate SOS with her last known location.
Relief swept through her, but she also remembered the convulsing figure of one of the assailants. The paratroopers were dropping right toward that rising tide of toxin. She had to warn them of the danger.
Regardless if there were any remaining enemy on the ground, she abandoned her shelter and ran out into the open. She waved an arm toward the closest parachutist. She cringed as his weapon swung toward her.
“I’m with the park rangers!” she shouted up at him.
The weapon remained fixed on her until the paratrooper landed. With one hand, he unhooked his chute and let it billow away. Others struck the ground all around the hilltop and out in the ghost town, preparing to mop up.
“Jenna Beck?” the Marine called to her, reaching her side. With his night-vision gear still in place, he cast a menacing figure.
She shivered, but not from fear of him. “It’s not safe here.”
“We know.” He grabbed her forearm. “We’re to escort you to the helicopter, get you to safety. But we need to move fast. The wash of the blades will only keep the gas at bay a little longer.”
“But—”
Another Marine joined them and grabbed her other arm, squeezing painfully the bullet graze on that side. They manhandled her swiftly toward the waiting helicopter. The other paratroopers swept to either side.
“Wait,” she said, struggling to free her arms.
She was ignored.
A shout rose to her left. One of the enemy rose out of hiding, a pistol in hand. She recognized him as the man whose leg she had shattered earlier. Rifles pointed, but they refrained from immediately shooting. One of the Marines rushed toward the man’s blind side, clearly intending to take him as prisoner.
But the man put the pistol to his own head and pulled the trigger.
Jenna glanced away, sickened.
Clearly the assault team was under orders not to be captured or interrogated. Again she was struck by their unwavering sense of duty. Whoever they were, they were deadly earnest in their purpose.
Reaching the open meadow, the two Marines hauled her between them. Her toes barely touched the dirt. They reached the large transport helicopter, the powerful rotor wash half blinding her with blown dust and dirt.
No.
She tried to dig in her heels. Failing that, she kicked the paratrooper on her left. She struck him a glancing blow to his knee. Caught by surprise, he stumbled to the side, releasing her.
She swung around to the ghost town, raised her freed arm, and planted two fingers in her mouth. She whistled loudly and sharply, a piercing summons.
“We don’t have any more time,” the Marine clutching her said.
His companion returned and together they herded her toward the open passenger cabin. The other eight Marines came pounding up to join them. She struggled at the doorway.
“No! Wait! Just a few seconds more.”
“We don’t have those seconds.”
She was lifted and shoved inside. The rest of the rescue team piled in after her. Amid the chaos, she kept a firm hold on a handgrip near the open doorway, searching the smoky meadow, the edges of the ghost town.
C’mon, Nikko.
She didn’t have a clear view of the tractor where she had left her partner. Was he still alive? She remembered the thunderous blasts that had heralded the arrival of the Marines. They must have fired rocket-propelled grenades to soften the enemy. One of the curling ribbons of smoke was near where the rusted tractor was located.
In her attempt to save Nikko, had she gotten him killed instead?
With everyone on board, the helicopter’s engines roared louder. The wheels lifted free of the grass.
Then she spotted movement, a shape racing through the scrub brush from the edge of the ghost town.
Nikko.
She whistled again for him. He sprinted even faster toward the rising helicopter, but the craft was already yards above the ground. Refusing to abandon him, she leaped out the open cabin door and landed in a hard crouch in the sandy dirt.
Angry shouts rose above her.
Then Nikko was there, leaping into her arms, knocking her down on her backside. He panted in her face, wriggling his relief. She hugged him tightly, ready to face whatever was to come—as long as they did it together.
Then hands grabbed her from behind, hauling her up. Without the wheels ever touching the ground, the helicopter had lowered enough to retrieve them.
She clung to Nikko, carrying him with her into the cabin. She landed on her back, Nikko on top of her.
The door slammed at her heels.
The Marine who had first grabbed her leaned over her. He had ripped away his night-vision gear, revealing a young, rugged face with a scrub of dark stubble. She expected to be admonished, to be dressed down for her foolhardy action.
Instead, he clapped her on the shoulder and pulled her to a seated position. “Name’s Drake. Wasn’t alerted about the dog,” he said in an apologetic tone. “Marines never leave a soldier behind. Even a four-legged one.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He shrugged and helped her up into a seat, then gave Nikko a good scratching around his neck. “Handsome fella.”
She smiled, already liking the guy. Besides, the same could be said for the Marine.
Handsome fella.
Nikko danced a bit on his paws, trying to look everywhere at once, but he kept one haunch firmly against her shin, refusing to be separated from her.
I feel the same way, buddy.
She stared out the window as the helicopter tilted to the side. She caught the distant silvery glint of Mono Lake, still free of the spreading cloud of toxin. If the Marines knew about the nerve gas, then likely word had reached Bill Howard and he was already instituting an evacuation of the immediate area.
The helicopter swung and headed away from the lake.
Frowning, she faced Drake. “Where are we going?”
“Back to MWTC.”
She turned to the window. So they were flying back to the Mountain Warfare Training Center. Not a surprise considering the research base had been a military operation in the first place. Still, suspicions rang through her.
Drake stoked that worry with one final detail. “Apparently there’s a man from D.C. who really wants to talk to you. He should be getting to the center about the same time as us.”
Jenna didn’t like the sound of that. She bent down and gave Nikko a good rub, while covertly freeing her cell phone from his collar. With her back turned to the group, she slipped it into her pocket. Until she understood more, she intended to play her cards close to her chest. Especially after all she had gone through, all she had risked.