Chapter 23
When they got to the guest tent, they found Lincoln pacing from one cot to the next. Limping. And he wanted to hike out of the jungle?
Rory agreed with Mathilda’s skepticism about Lincoln’s plan. But try telling a billionaire anything he didn’t want to hear. That never seemed to go very well.
“Jesus, what took you so long?” Lincoln demanded.
“I was hoping you’d go back to sleep.” Rory eyed his boss. “Honestly, I can’t understand how you’re even standing after plane crush number two.”
“You know how much effort I put into staying fit.”
Rory had to hand it to him; maybe all those trainers were onto something. “Maybe you should give your longevity team a raise.”
Lincoln ignored that suggestion and directed his frown at Mathilda. “We can’t bring any girls with us. Jesus, Rory.”
“We need her to—”
“All we need,” he interrupted, “is a phone so I can call an Uber. Better yet, I’ll call Max, he can send a helicopter from Maui.”
Over Mathilda’s smothered laughter, Rory said, “None of those options are going to work—”
“Phone. Where’s my phone? Where’s my briefcase?
Where’s…” Lincoln turned around in a tight little circle.
Rory realized that he wasn’t as back-to-normal as he’d seemed when he first woke up.
His beard was coming in, too, much thicker than Rory’s.
He’d lost weight during the two days he’d been unconscious.
Instead of an athletic billionaire, he looked almost… homeless.
He stopped Lincoln’s frantic spinning by planting his hands on his shoulders. “Little reality check, boss. There’s no cell service out here. Those goons took the emergency sat phone. We have no way to contact anyone. The only way out is to hike through the jungle to the nearest road.”
“What?”
He’d explained all of that to Lincoln when he’d first declared his intention to leave. Was his short-term memory shot? Or had his boss simply ignored him, as usual? “You’ve been through a lot, Lincoln. Two plane crashes, a coma. Let’s be realistic here—”
“Reality is, I’m not sticking around here to get kidnapped again. We need to get out.” His gaze shot back to Mathilda. “And we can’t have anyone slowing us down.”
She bristled at that insult. “I was planning on showing you the way so you two idiots don’t get lost in the jungle.
Do you even know where the closest road is?
Or how many valleys there are between here and there?
No, I didn’t think so. But if you think you’ve got this… ” She threw up her hands with a shrug.
Good, thought Rory. He didn’t want to put her in any more danger than he already had.
But also, crap. He didn’t want to be apart from her. He wanted her close so he could protect her.
And sure, kiss her at the very next opportunity. But that was another matter.
“Who are you, exactly?”
“Mathilda Wheeler.” She held his gaze without a hint of backing down. “This is my camp, this is my jungle, in the sense that I know it better than you, and you should have a little respect.”
After scrutinizing Mathilda for so long that Rory wanted to smack him, Lincoln turned to Rory. “Is she trustworthy?”
“I’d say yes. She rescued both of us from the SyberJet. She made sure you were taken care of. Someone sent drones to defend the crash site, and she got targeted. About that, do you know why or who—”
Lincoln cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“We don’t have time for all that. We need to get away from here.
” He shouldered the overnight bag in which Rory had hidden the crystal.
Rory had moved it since then, but he hadn’t told Lincoln.
Given the kidnapping, it was safer if he didn’t know. “You can come, Mathilda.”
He said it as if he was doing her a favor instead of the other way around.
Mathilda shot Rory a look, but he just shrugged. Billionaires are going to billionaire, he thought.
“Sasha hasn’t even checked you out yet,” she told Lincoln coolly. “I have some basic first-aid training. How about I take a look—”
“No.” Lincoln stopped her with a dismissive hand. “I’m going.”
“You know, I liked you a lot better when you were in that coma,” she snapped.
If only Rory had a camera to record Lincoln’s look of shock at being spoken to without a hint of deference. “Before you overreact, we need her, Lincoln. I don’t know the way to Waipi’o any more than you do. You might want to consider an apology.”
He could practically see Lincoln’s gears turn. His billions meant nothing out here. He wasn’t used to that.
“I apologize,” he finally said. “I’m still catching up here. If Rory says we need your help, then we do. I appreciate your willingness. I can compensate you once I have access to—”
Mathilda waved that off. “Instead of money, how about just acting like a decent person until we reach civilization?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Wow. Rory had never seen Lincoln quite so humble before. Being stranded in the jungle could do strange things to a person, apparently.
Before they left the camp, Mathilda hid a note for the others in a place where no potential commandos would find it—inside the box of coffee filters. Lincoln didn’t even want her to do that, but she insisted since she didn’t want anyone to worry that they’d all been kidnapped again.
She’d already filled her backpack with water and protein bars, but Rory snatched it from her before she could put it on. “I got this,” he told her firmly. You concentrate on finding the way.”
Machete in hand, she set off into the dark depths of the vegetation at the edge of the camp.
Lincoln followed in her footsteps, while Rory held up the rear.
He wanted to keep an eye on his boss, because he was behaving so erratically.
They all wore headlamps, but those beams of light seemed so fragile compared to the endless darkness of the jungle.
Lincoln insisted on carrying the overnight bag, while Rory carried everything else.
Despite all the crazy shit that had happened over the past few days, he still hadn’t mentioned the crystal—or whatever it was.
He was still acting as if the med kit was just that, and not a hiding place for a mysterious glowing object.
Rory wasn’t sure if he should tell Lincoln that he knew what was really in there.
How would he explain it? Sorry, boss, I broke into your med kit and your briefcase, NDA be damned.
They hiked in silence except for the drip-drip of raindrops rolling off thick jungle leaves onto the next layer of foliage.
Although it wasn’t currently raining, enough water had fallen from the sky over the past few hours that it was still dripping into the underbrush.
The air was moist and cool, the scent of it both earthy and flowery.
Mathilda followed the trail most recently walked by Philip Phelps. But at a certain point, she diverged from that chaotic path.
“I know a better way,” she explained over her shoulder. “Less up and down, but we end at the same place. Fewer waterfalls, though. Of course if you want the scenic route…”
“This is fine.” Lincoln was already out of breath. Mathilda paused and gestured to Rory. “How about some water all around?”
He passed out water bottles and they all took a swig. Lincoln wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He was sweating much more than Rory was, even though he wasn’t carrying anything besides the overnight bag.
Rory shared a glance of concern with Mathilda. The two of them would have a hard time carrying Lincoln out of the jungle if he couldn’t make it on his own two feet.
They needed to distract Lincoln from his fatigue and his limping gait, and as soon as they were underway again, Mathilda came through.
“Say Lincoln, I wonder if you know that there have been wild rumors flying around about you, even before your plane crashed.”
“Is that right? I deny everything.”
Good. He was in banter mode; excellent distraction.
“So you’re not planning to build a bunker on Maui to protect yourself and your friends from the potential collapse of civilization?”
“Oh, that rumor. I have to admit that one’s a little bit true.”
“A little bit?” Mathilda paused to hack at an especially dense thicket of prickly vine.
“The bunker already exists.” He slid a glance at Rory, who’d pulled up just behind him. “But I wouldn’t say that it’s mine. I’m involved in it. Nothing wrong with security in this day and age. That’s why we were headed to Maui.”
Rory didn’t believe him. Until he came clean about that crystal, he wouldn’t believe anything Lincoln said. “Then why all the secrecy? Just you and me on the plane. No assistants, no entourage. That’s not your usual MO.”
“Let’s just say it’s a controversial topic within the company. I wanted to keep the trip off the radar.”
Mathilda gestured for them to duck under the vine she’d cleared.
When they were back underway, Rory asked, “Did anyone else know we were going?”
“I didn’t tell anyone else, but they could have figured it out. Beth might have.” His executive assistant. “Tanner.” His second assistant. “Why are you asking?”
“Well, we did crash.”
“In a storm. Do you think it wasn’t just an accident?”
“Gotta wonder. Especially given that you got kidnapped afterwards.”
Lincoln nodded somberly. “It’s feeling like someone’s after me. ”
An ominous silence settled over them as they walked. Mathilda interrupted it with a cheery, “Not everyone. Those commandos wanted you alive, right? Otherwise they would have just killed you.”
“Great point,” Lincoln said gloomily. “I guess I’ll take it.”
“Did they say anything helpful while they had you?” Rory asked. “Do you know where they were going, or who they worked for?”
Lincoln swung at an insect careening into his headlamp. “I heard one of them say, ‘This handle-with-care shit is fucked. Too bad he wants him alive.’ I said, ‘Who wants me? What are they paying? I’ll double it.’”
“What’d they say to that?”
“They said they were warned I’d say that, and that the price on my head is preemptively doubled from whatever I would offer. They knew about you, Rory. They had an argument about whether to grab you too. They decided they didn’t have time and that the delay wasn’t worth it.”
Mathilda smothered a snort. “I guess sometimes it pays to not be a billionaire.”
“Yeah, but even being billionaire-adjacent has its risks.” Rory shook his head at his narrow escape.
No doubt those kidnappers would have been less “handle with care” when it came to the lowly pilot.
If he hadn’t been with Mathilda that night, tucked away in her cozy little mosquito net, who knew what would have happened.
More hiking. More bugs. More water breaks. Dawn came, filling the jungle wth misty light. The sun warmed them quickly. And still they trekked.
During one of those rests, Lincoln leaned on Rory as he tipped the last of his water bottle into his mouth. Gasping, he said, “Rory, my man, if we get out of this alive, there’s a big bonus in it for you.”
“Seriously?” Mathilda shifted her backpack on her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “Does it always come down to money for you?”
“Well, what should I offer him?”
“How about…maybe the truth about why you’re in danger, which is the same reason why Rory’s in danger, and something he deserves to know.”
After a long, confounded moment, Lincoln said slowly, “That’s fair. I’ll think about it.”
Rory cocked his head at him. “Did that coma knock something loose in there?”
“Why? Do I seem different?”
“Maybe a little more…human.”
“I guess you can thank two brushes with death for that. And counting. This jungle gives me the creeps. Does anyone else feel like someone’s watching them?” Lincoln glanced around the jungle and shivered.
“Probably the menehune,” Rory said wisely, causing Mathilda to smother a laugh.
“What is that, a kind of snake? Insect? Are they poisonous?”
“I have no idea. The first thing I’m going to do when we find service is look them up.”
They were still chuckling about that when they emerged onto the black-sand beach in Waipi’o Valley.
“Shit,” growled Lincoln, who’d reached the beach first. Rory, a step behind him,
A cluster of armed commandos had just spotted them, and were running across the beach in their direction. A high-powered Zodiac waited at the shoreline and a hulking black super-yacht floated just beyond.