Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
“Who?” Peredur asked, eyes and voice sharp. Wary about a potential threat, Hallie realised. She didn’t blame him.
“Local woman, sir,” Girard said. “I can try to find her.”
“How critical is she?” the director asked.
Another fair question. And one Hallie would have taken offence at only a few months before.
She would have assumed that the hochlen was asking whether the karlen had any worth at all.
Now, knowing the director, she knew he was not trying to dismiss or overlook Rhodda.
He was simply asking for information, trying to understand the situation.
“She might be quite important,” Hallie said, glancing at Girard.
“I don’t know if you remember Devin, from low city?
Yes. Well, Rhodda is his daughter. And she has a son, Brock, who seems to have been playing her.
” Hallie rubbed a hand across her face and grimaced when her head pounded in response.
Her fast healing was working, but she’d taken a hard hit out in the forest. “Sorry, not making much sense. But Brock is one of Jonah’s men.
Jonah is a bad man, and involved in smuggling. ”
“Rhodda thought she was coming here to rescue her son,” Girard said quietly.
“Ah.” The director frowned, apparently understanding a great deal more than Hallie would have believed possible from her garbled explanation. “This is Jonah’s base?”
“Yes. We haven’t cleared the house or outbuildings, and there’s a harbour down below which Hallie has seen.” Girard sounded calm, but there was tension in his shoulders. Very aware that they were not safe. Far from it.
“Findo Trask was here, too,” Hallie said, and wondered why the room was spinning.
“Careful.” Girard was suddenly next to her, hand under her elbow. “I think you need some painkillers, too.”
“That would be nice, actually,” Hallie said, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa as Girard guided her to it.
The shapes and muted colours of the room swirled and she winced as a phantom knife stabbed through her head.
“I didn’t realise my head hurt that much.
Got clocked by someone working with Findo,” she said for the director’s benefit, her earlier disgust at herself for being caught returning.
Girard held up an injector, silently asking for permission to dose her. Hallie nodded, pulling up one of her sleeves. She barely felt the pressure of it, the mild sting nothing to the grinding agony of her skull.
“Findo Trask was here, on Paradise, the human-only island? Working with Jonah, I assume?” The director’s surprise was clear, but he was not a stupid man.
“Yes, but they don’t like each other much,” Hallie said and sighed in relief as the painkiller took effect.
The stabbing and grinding pain faded down to almost nothing.
Then the zauber asserted itself, chasing away the last of the pain in her head.
There would still be swelling and bruising, she was sure, but her head was clear.
She sent a silent thank you to the zauber and it purred slightly in response.
Still not at full strength, but giving her what it could.
“I think the weapon boat was Findo’s. Or, at least, he was using it. ”
“Findo Trask. Weapon boat. And a smuggler named Jonah.” The director shook his head slightly, frowning again. “And here I thought this was going to be a simple fact-finding mission.”
The firm tread of heavy boots drew everyone’s attention to the door. Commander Rojas appeared, helmet tucked under his arm.
“Sir. We’ve cleared the immediate area and the team are sweeping the house. With your permission, I’d like to retrieve my men from the forest before we go further. We haven’t been able to get them on the comms, and I don’t want them stumbling into one of the traps Miss Talbot warned us about.”
“Of course get your people. I don’t need to tell you to exercise caution, Rojas,” Peredur said. Hallie saw a grim smile lift the commander’s mouth as he took in the warning. “Could you leave one of the medics here? The co-pilot needs attention.”
“Yes, sir.” The commander clicked the radio at his shoulder. “Duncan, report to the director with your medkit.” The commander spared a glance at the unconscious man, then looked across the room to Elyan Gould. “That was impressive flying. You kept us all alive. Thank you.”
Elyan Gould nodded once. He looked like a man who needed a stiff drink. Or several. Hallie didn’t blame him. She couldn’t imagine the panic or chaos of being inside the helicopter when it was being fired on. She and Girard had been under fire, but they’d been on the ground, not hovering in the air.
The commander left the room, pulling his helmet on as he walked, the sound of his footsteps fading as he headed to the front door.
“You train for it,” Elyan Gould said, voice low. “Simulations. Lots of them. But it’s nothing like the real thing.”
“That’s why we do the training, though,” Peredur said, tone calm and matter-of-fact. “Even if it’s not the same, it still lets your body know what’s needed before your brain has time to get in the way.”
Elyan gave a hollow laugh and scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked a bit less shaky, though. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” the director said.
“I need to do something,” Elyan protested.
Seeing the troubled frown on the pilot’s face, Hallie straightened. “Actually, there is something. This is Jonah’s office. We haven’t had time to have a proper look around, but it’s possible there’s useful information in here.”
“That’s true,” Girard said. “So far all we’ve got is our own guesses about what’s going on. It would be useful to have confirmation.”
“And I don’t understand how Jonah has been able to operate this way.
He’s got fuel for ATVs and probably generators, packaged food and bottled water, and a lot of weapons while the rest of the island is living in primitive conditions.
All the houses we’ve seen have relied on water drawn from wells and the only light was from candles or lanterns,” Hallie pointed out.
“Gould, it looks like you’ve been volunteered as fact-finder,” the director said briskly.
The pilot nodded. His colour was better and Hallie could see his focus sharpening as he was given a task to do. “Any names or information I should keep an eye out for?”
“Findo Trask is the only name I know,” Hallie answered.
“Ah. Fugitive. Recently escaped from custody,” the pilot said, nodding. He looked around the papers on the desk then the rest of the room as if sizing up the task ahead of him.
Another set of boots came along the corridor and another man in tactical gear appeared at the doorway. Unlike the commander, he still wore his helmet.
“Sir. The commander asked me to report to you,” the newcomer said, after a quick look around the room.
“Duncan, yes. The co-pilot was injured. We need you to take a look at him. And keep watch here, unless the commander gives you other orders,” the director said.
“Sir.” The man pulled off his helmet and Hallie recognised the other half of their escort to the island, what seemed a long time ago.
Duncan crossed the room to where the co-pilot was still unconscious and unmoving on the sofa.
As he moved, Hallie saw he had what looked like a heavy backpack across his shoulders.
Peredur turned to Hallie and Girard, face grim. “While the commander and his unit are working, let’s see if we can track down this Rhodda person.”
“Sir,” Girard acknowledged. He glanced at Hallie.
“Lead the way,” she told him, lifting her chin slightly in case he had any ideas about leaving her behind. He just tipped his head in acknowledgement and headed out of the room. Hallie was not surprised when the director moved with them back into the shadows of the house.