Chapter 21
The others were all gathered on the platform deck of the yurt, staring at a spiral of smoke rising over the jungle canopy to the north.
“Is that…” Rory shaded his eyes against the brilliant sun.
“The helicopter? That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Don’t know what else it could be. There’s nothing but jungle that direction, and we haven’t seen any other aircraft,” said Robert.
“Shit.” Rory’s gut twisted. Lincoln Kerr couldn’t possibly be gone, not after everything he’d already survived. An entire business empire depended on him. He’d grown to like his boss, and the thought of him dying here in the jungle horrified him.
“Man, that dude has the worst luck,” said Bjorn, who was staring at the smoke through a set of binoculars.
“Survives one crash, falls into a coma, finally wakes up, and right away gets kidnapped and dragged away into a chopper that then crashes? That’s some intense karma.
” He pulled the binoculars from his face.
“Does anyone else want to take a look? You, pilot man. Maybe you can identify the smoke.”
Doubtful, but Rory took a look anyway. “It’s definitely something metal, judging by the color of the smoke. But whether it’s that same helicopter, I can’t say. How far away is that?”
They all conferred, and agreed it was about five miles away. It hadn’t gotten far before it had gone down.
“I’ll go see for myself,” he said. Immediately several others volunteered to go with him.
Mathilda wasn’t one of them. She’d stepped off the platform and was talking intently with Philip Phelps, the lawyer.
The sight felt like a punch in the gut. He kept forgetting about that situation.
Maybe he didn’t want to remember it. He wanted to keep seeing Mathilda, keep kissing her, keep getting to know all her ins and outs.
It felt like something he could do for a very long time and not get tired of it. Maybe forever.
Even now, being several feet away from her instead of side by side made him feel empty.
But he had a job to do. If that was Lincoln out there under that column of smoke, his responsibility was to go that way.
Bjorn and Robert came with him, which he greatly appreciated.
The trek took over three hours, and that was only because Robert knew of a trail that wasn’t completely overgrown.
Occasionally they would pass the remains of a lava wall.
He explained that it used to circle the entire island.
The king’s messengers would use it to carry news to all the different villages and settlements.
“The original coconut wireless,” Rory joked, causing Robert to break into a hearty chuckle.
After they’d walked a bit, Rory asked Bjorn if he knew anything about the Kerr family business.
At first, Bjorn didn’t want to talk to him. “I can’t believe you fooled me,” he grumbled. “My mother would be ashamed.”
“She doesn’t have to ever know.” Rory gave the scout’s honor sign. “It’s not something I want to spread around, that’s for sure. But if you help find Lincoln, I’m sure the Kerr family will be grateful. You could make your mother proud.”
Bjorn shrugged. “It might, considering my botany research does nothing for her. Fine. What do you want to know?”
Rory cast around for an angle that wouldn’t give away anything confidential. “Have there been any recent changes in Lincoln’s business that could explain the kidnapping?”
“I’m sure he’s always a prime target for kidnappers. He is a billionaire.”
“Yes, these guys went all out. Private mercenaries, a chopper, drones.”
“Drones?” Robert stopped in mid-machete swing.
Keeping a careful eye on the position of that machete, Rory explained what he and Mathilda had witnessed at the crash site.
“You should have told us,” Robert said sternly.
“Yeah. I should have. I’m sorry. Bad call. The point is, someone went to great lengths to grab him from your camp. Just curious why now, why here.”
Bjorn stopped and sniffed the air. “I think we’re close.”
They stopped talking as they thrashed their way through a thicket of ferns, finally emerging into a grove of banana trees, with the fallen helicopter smoking in the midst of it.
“It’s the same one that took Lincoln,” Rory said. As they carefully approached the wreckage, he reeled off the details of the aircraft. “Sikorsky S-97 Raider, holds up to six people as well as the cockpit crew. Exceptionally maneuverable, well-suited to hot environments like the jungle.”
“So it shouldn’t have crashed.”
“No.” Maybe it was a case of sabotage, Rory thought to himself. Maybe the first crash had been too. Maybe someone really wanted Lincoln dead.
But if that was so, why hadn’t they killed him before they put him on the chopper?
They stopped at a safe distance from the chopper. “Hellooo,” Robert called out. “We’re here to help.”
No response. They exchanged wary glances. Bjorn flung up his hands. “Last time I saw those guys, they were aiming guns at me. I’m not going in there.”
“No, this is on me.” Rory drew in a breath and stepped forward before anyone could argue—not that anyone did.
“We got your back,” Robert whispered.
Too bad none of them had guns to have his back with.
His heart pounding, Rory pushed his way past the rubbery heart-shaped leaves of the plant he’d been hiding behind.
He felt incredibly exposed as he picked his way across the lava-scattered ground.
The helicopter was mostly in one piece because it had landed in the middle of that vast banana grove.
The thick foliage had cushioned its fall.
Was there a joke to be made about slipping on a banana peel?
Inappropriate. Moments of crisis always brought out his black humor side.
At least no one was shooting at him. He breathed easier as he reached the cockpit of the helicopter. He had to climb onto a vine-covered pile of lava rocks to peer inside. The pilot and the copilot, both dressed in the same commando gear, were unconscious, though he couldn’t tell more than that.
He relayed that news to the others, who took it as permission to come closer. Together, they pulled the door open, then Robert and Bjorn helped him climb through it.
His first impression was that no one had survived this crash.
The damage to the helicopter wasn’t too bad, but everyone seemed to be unconscious.
Maybe they’d lost oxygen. That would explain why they’d crashed.
If the pilot and copilot had passed out from lack of oxygen, the craft would have been doomed.
But where was Lincoln? Finally, after climbing past everyone else to the very rear, he found his boss.
Lincoln too was unconscious, but he was wearing an oxygen mask.
All the commandos were wearing military headgear, goggles and so forth—maybe that had impaired their ability to get their oxygen masks on.
Rory put two fingers on Lincoln’s neck.
Alive. But barely.
Amazing. The higher powers must have a good reason for wanting Lincoln Kerr alive.
He checked the others, but no one else had a pulse. Had they all suffocated when the oxygen cut off? Horrifying.
But at least his overnight bag was undamaged. Just to make sure, he unzipped it and felt around for the med kit. There it was, still wrapped in his hoodie. He zipped it back up, grabbed Lincoln’s briefcase, and tossed them both out of the helicopter.
“One survivor, and that’s Lincoln,” he told Robert and Bjorn. “But I can’t find a gurney in here.”
“No worries,” Robert said calmly. “We’ll do it jungle style.”
Later, as they trudged slowly through the jungle, carrying Lincoln on a makeshift gurney formed from bamboo stalks and hala leaves, Robert said, “You were wrong about his karma, Bjorn. This guy is favored by the gods. How do you survive two plane crashes in less than a week?”
“Well, he is a Kerr, after all,” said Bjorn, who was clearing the way for the gurney. “You gotta be lucky to be born into that family. Energy.” He turned to Rory, who was carrying the front of the gurney. “I just remembered.”
“What?” Rory’s muscles flexed as he adjusted his grip on the long stalks of bamboo they’d used to form the frame of the gurney.
“Alternative energy. That’s one new area the Kerr Group had been exploring recently.
Hydrogen fusion, that sort of thing. Anything experimental.
Come to think of it, I think that might have started the conflict with his sister, Maureen.
She didn’t like those high-risk investments.
It’s more of a long-term kind of thing because it’s exploratory.
You don’t know if or when it’ll pay off. She was more into guaranteed returns.”
Energy. Now that was interesting. Could the mysterious crystal have some connection to an experimental energy source?
He racked his brain for any overheard mention of such a thing, but came up empty. Testament to how careful Lincoln was to keep his business confidential.
“What should we do about those other guys back there?” Robert asked. “We could either call the nearest emergency services or contact Lincoln’s security team,” Rory told him. “Or do both.”
“Let’s do both. I’m tired of these armed assholes running amok in our jungle.”
“Agreed.” Rory checked the sky—the sun was dropping fast into the canopy. The mosquitos were coming thick and furious. Night was on its way. “Can we make it back before dark?”
“No, but don’t worry. The menehune don’t bite.”
“Is anyone ever going to tell me what these menehune are?” Rory glanced around the jungle nervously.
All he saw was soaring thick tree trunks shrouded in vines with leaves as big as surfboards.
The only creatures he’d seen so far were birds and a wild pig rooting in the leaf debris on the jungle floor.
“If you’re really lucky, you’ll see one for yourself.”
Robert and Bjorn laughed, and Rory resigned himself to being the butt of their joke until he could access the internet. He could hardly complain, after he’d deceived them all about his identity. If this was his punishment, he could live with that.
On the gurney, Lincoln gave a muttered groan.
They paused between the fringed overhang of a coconut palm and the spiky leaves of a hala. “Lincoln,” Rory said softly. “Can you hear me? It’s Rory.”
“What…”
“You’ve been in another crash. Do you remember?”
“Crash…Rory. Can’t say. Rory. I’m Rory,” he mumbled.
Oh shit. Had he broken his boss’ brain by making him switch identities when he’d just woken up from a coma? This was a disaster.
“We’re going to get you to a hospital as quickly as possible, I promise. Just rest easy.”
Lincoln muttered something inaudible. Rory signaled to Bjorn to take his place so he could move in closer, his ear hovering over Lincoln’s face. It was still hard to make out what he said, but Rory guessed he was worried about his med kit again.
“I have it. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“No,” Lincoln managed.
“No…what? What do you mean?”
“No hospital. Not safe. Nowhere safe.”
Well, crap.