Free And Then You Die by Iris Johansen Page A

of tracks before.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Benito is motioning to me. Do I have your permission to––”
    “Go.”
    She had help. The Grady bitch had help.
    Kaldak? He was a big man.
    Yes, probably Kaldak; he had already demonstrated his skill in making his way through these hills. Now he was with the woman and if he was CIA, he might be able to pull in more help.
    If Esteban didn't reach them before they got out of the hills.
    Perez was back. “We've intercepted a radio signal.”
    “Where?” Esteban asked.
    “Southwest. Six miles.”
    They had cleared the hills and were radioing for assistance. Probably a helicopter.
    Goddammit.
    “
Get
them.”
     
    Bess staggered and then caught herself before she could fall.
    “All right?” Kaldak asked, not looking back.
    No, it wasn't all right. Kaldak had increased the pace in the last hour and she was bone weary, hot, and had a stitch in her side. “Can we go just a little slower?”
    “No.”
    “Why not? We're close, aren't we?”
    “Close isn't home.”
    “Josie needs changing.”
    “She'll have to wait. Hurry.”
    The last word was so fraught with tension, her stride automatically accelerated. She glanced back over her shoulder. “What's wrong? Are they close?”
    “They've always been close and they're bound to have picked up the signal.”
    Josie whimpered.
    Poor baby. “How far do we have to go?”
    “Another hour. And Esteban probably is no more than twenty minutes behind us.”
    “What if the helicopter isn't there?”
    Kaldak didn't answer.
    He didn't have to answer.
     
    In the valley below, the army-green helicopter shimmered in the twilight. It looked beautiful.
    Bess's pace hastened in response to the hope leaping through her. “It's there. We're going––”
    A bullet whistled past her ear.
    “Shit.” Kaldak grabbed her arm and pulled her down. She stumbled on a tuft of grass, caught her balance.
    A second shot. Kicking up dirt ahead of her.
    She glanced over her shoulder.
    Soldiers. Streaming over the hill.
    The helicopter door was open.
    Another shot.
    She jerked as pain streaked along her side.
    They reached the helicopter. Kaldak tossed her onto the floor and followed her.
    “Up, Cass,” he shouted.
    The door was still open as the helicopter rose jerkily.
    One of the soldiers leaped upward and caught hold. Kaldak ground his heel on the man's hand and he fell back to the ground.
    Bullets sprayed the helicopter.
    What if they hit the fuel tank?
    Clear. They were high above the ground. Surely out of range.
    She looked at Kaldak. He nodded and she went limp with relief.
    “You're bleeding.” He was looking at her shirt. “You were hit?”
    “My side. It's all right. Just a graze I think. I'll tend to–– Oh, my God.”
    Josie was too still.
    Bess frantically shrugged off the sling. The blanket was stained with blood.
    Josie.
    “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.” Tears were running down her cheeks. “They shot her. They shot Josie.” The bullet that had grazed her side must have gone through the baby. “Goddamn baby killers.”
    “Is she dead?”
    “I'm trying to find out.” Hip wound. Blood. Too much blood. “She's alive. Barely.”
    “Can we save her?”
    “I don't know. I know first aid, but I'm not a doctor. Maybe. If I can stop the bleeding.” She was working quickly. “You get her to a hospital.”
    “I can't risk you. We can't land until––”
    “Don't tell me that. I don't care where you take us.” She shot him a fierce glance. “You get me to a medical facility where I can get help for her.”
    Kaldak nodded. “I'll find a place.” He headed for the cockpit.
    “Son of a bitch.” She couldn't stop crying. She had sworn never to open herself to this kind of agony again. Yet here it was, deeper than ever before. “Hold on, Josie,” she whispered. “We've gone through too much together. Don't leave me now, baby.”
     
    “We're going to set down.” Kaldak was back. “How is