Chasing Gold

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

Alicia stood upright at the prow of the boat, holding onto a metal strut, and surveying all that lay before her. The island of Molokai lay ahead, elongated and dark green, forested and mountainous, enclosed by incredible bright blue waters. She could see bays, sea cliffs and thick forestation. If a person knew where they were going…

Still, it was an island.

The helicopters veered around a rocky promontory and then swooped down toward a yellow sand beach. Alicia urged the motorboat’s pilot to greater speeds, but he complained that they were already going flat out. The boat bounced beneath her and spray coated her face and her hair. It began to heel to the right as the pilot took a wide turn into the approaching bay, following the flight of the terrorists.

She saw them disembarking now; jumping off the still roaring birds like cockroaches. She could see Ricci and then the banner. She saw them making ready.

The motorboat chased in, skipping over the breakwaters and then skimming the tops of the waves.

She glanced back, took in the rest of her crew ready to go; faces hard and grim and ready for action. Even Austin was armed, properly attired and standing there with a severe determination in his eyes. Maybe he was a good fit for the team after all.

She checked her weapons out of habit, re-counted spare clips and other armaments and then made ready to jump.

As they approached the beach she leapt into the surf, coming down on two feet and bringing her weapon around. The terrorists were in front of their chopper, taking shelter, and began to fire their semi-autos as the boat came within range.

Running through the waves, the FBI, Russo and the others all fired back.

Bullets sliced through the balmy air, ripped apart the frothing waters, and thudded into the boat. Alicia was aware that their best line of defense here was attack, and constant gunfire. Keep the enemy pinned down and huddled for cover.

She fired round after round, ran hard until she splashed through the shallows and then felt muddy sand under her feet. A bullet zinged by. She aimed at the place it originated, quelling that terrorist’s audaciousness.

“Shoot at me, will you?” she yelled. “Here, have a bit of that!”

Bullets ripped into the chopper’s sides.

Terrorists were digging into the sand, using it to disguise their rolling movements as they moved out of shelter for a second to take pot shots. Russo saw it and discouraged one, but they weren’t taking any casualties. Their protection was solid.

Alicia surveyed the waters. Two more FBI boats were zooming in. Soon, they would have strength in numbers, and the terrorists would be back to hiding behind hostages. She had to find a way around it.

Thin the herd. But it’s not working.

Take out Ricci. I wish.

Force them to make a move. It was the only option.

She emptied a clip into the furthest chopper, aiming high, but causing major damage, littering the area with metal and glass. One of the terrorists rolled clear, tried to rise and was shot in the back by one of the FBI agents. That left four, plus Ricci. Shouts went up among them. She recognized Ricci’s voice crying out orders.

For the moment the only sound beyond gunfire was the muted roar of the approaching boats. It was then that a much louder noise shattered the once-tranquil bay — the noise of big, powerful engines.

Alicia swerved to the right to get a clearer view; Russo at her side.

A massive, midnight black Ford F150 Velociraptor burst through the forestation at the top edge of the bay. Alicia gawped. It was a huge, savage machine with enormous tires, a pickup-like bed on the back, and one of the loudest engines she’d ever heard. It was an animal, coming to attack them. It bounced over the hills and valleys from the island’s interior with ease as it made its way toward the terrorists, the driver wrenching the wheel left and right.

Alicia couldn’t make him out yet. Probably a local they’d paid to spirit them away to some remote cave system where they could lie low. Or… where they could finally burn the banner. Plan B.

The F150 careened over the landscape, hit the edge of the beach and kept on coming. Rooster tails of sand flew from underneath its tires. Terrorists started taking more chances as they tried to quell the aggressors and engineer themselves a way out.

If they make it to that car we’ll never catch them.

She crouched down at the front of a helicopter as the new vehicle flicked its tail out, swerving sideways across the back. From there it would be a relatively easy job to jump on board.

“Spread out.” Alicia waved to the other agents.

Austin and Caitlyn skidded to her side. The young driver whistled. “That’s one mighty fine piece of American muscle.”

Alicia gave him a glare. “Focus, kid. You lose focus on this beach today, you die.”

Austin nodded quickly. Alicia readied to move. “If it sets off we go for the wheels. Just the wheels. Got it?”

The roar of an engine signified that all terrorists and captives were on board. Alicia darted out of cover at that point and ran frantically toward the F150, which was only a helicopter’s length away.

The driver stepped too heavily on the gas. The car spit curtains of sand out from the rear tires whilst drifting slowly to the right, toward Alicia. She made out Ricci in the passenger seat, window down, and recognized the figures of Crouch and Terri in the back seats, both struggling. Three terrorists knelt in the rear bed, guns resting on the high sides.

She saw the driver too and almost lost her balance.

“No, oh for fuck’s sake.”

“What?” Austin’s head spun around as if expecting a surprise attack.

“That’s Cutler! Paul the liar Cutler, driving that vehicle. The bastard’s working with the terrorists.”

Russo grimaced. “Aw, shit, and Terri’s in there too.”

Alicia couldn’t keep the hatred from her face. “He’ll regret that decision.”

“Makes sense now,” Caitlyn said even as they lined up on the truck’s tires. “It’s why he kept going out of the Smithsonian, through the streets. He had orders to meet up with them. It’s why he escaped in the Stratosphere, so he could get away from us and organize this little escapade. Shit, we should have known.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Alicia said. “Terri didn’t know either.”

The F150 continued to slew around so that its entire right side was toward them. Cutler finally realized he was drawing down too much power and eased off. Alicia saw the tires start to get traction.

“Now!”

Guns pounded. Bullets ripped into the sand and the F150’s enormous tires. Cutler struggled with the wheel. The tires shredded quickly, exploding and then deflating, leaving the truck angled slightly down toward the ground.

One terrorist fell off the back of the truck. The others fell against the sides. Both Ricci and Cutler threw open their doors, leaving Crouch and Terri to their own devices.

This is our chance.

Alicia went from a standing start to a sprint faster than Russo could even blink.