Chapter 27
Rory wanted to pepper Lincoln with questions about the danger he’d unwittingly inflicted on Mathilda. But they had to keep silent as they made their escape.
The first step was to get out of this damn cabin. That part was easier than expected thanks to the timely arrival of a guard with some food and water. Rory ambushed him from behind the door and pressed on his windpipe just enough to render him unconscious.
“Take his uniform,” Lincoln told him. “If anyone stops us, you can say you’re taking me to see the big guy.”
“The big guy?”
“That’s how they refer to Tanaka.”
When Rory stared at him blankly, he added, “He’s behind all this. He’s a longtime competitor of my father’s. Japanese organized crime connections, all of that. The only reason I’m still alive is he needs me to find the…come on, we don’t have time for this now. We have to get out of here.”
His urgent tone made Rory snap into action. He stripped off the man’s uniform and put it on, finding it a decent fit.
“Phelps said they might use me as a body double for you,” he said as he tightened the belt buckle.
“Yes, for a video in case I don’t give them what they want and they have to get rid of me. You want to stick around for that?”
“That would be a hell no. But what is it they want?”
“Later, Rory. I promise.”
Rory gave up and planted his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, as if he was Rory’s prisoner. He didn’t hate it, as it turned out. Apparently he still had some resentment toward his boss, though he’d come to like him more over the past few days.
They spotted a few guards as they made their way toward the rear of the craft, but no one noticed them until they passed by the galley. As soon as they realized the kitchen crew was watching, Rory grabbed Lincoln’s upper arm and manhandled him harshly past the open door.
“It’s a good thing the big guy wants you alive,” he growled, loud enough for them all to hear.
He dropped his hand when they were out of sight. “Sorry about that,” he muttered.
“No need to apologize. I appreciate the realism.” Lincoln brushed off his sleeve. “To a point.”
“Understood.”
Billionaires gotta billionaire, he thought. No one with that much money expects to be pushed around like a helpless prisoner. Maybe there was an advantage to growing up needing to fend for yourself.
Still, he had to give Lincoln credit for rolling with the punches through this entire mess. The man was tough in the boardroom. Maybe that same killer instinct would keep him alive now.
After a heart-pounding half an hour or so, they reached the helipad on the upper level of the yacht.
A small crew of workers were busy doing something to the helicopter, though it was hard to see what.
Rory looked around for a place to hide. The only viable spot was behind a large lifeboat lashed to the side.
It was a tight fit for the two of them, and it smelled like expensive rubber. They could hear the chatter of the work crew, but couldn’t see beyond the lifeboat.
“Can you tell what they’re doing?” Lincoln asked in a nearly soundless whisper.
“No. Could be routine maintenance or it could be major repairs.”
“Fuck.”
Yeah. Agreed. What if the crew was repairing some serious malfunction? The last thing Lincoln needed was another plane crash. Rory too, for that matter. One would be enough for him for a long, long time.
A horn sounded. It appeared to be some sort of signal, because they heard the heavy footfalls of workers walking away from the helicopter. It must be their lunch break, or an all-crew meeting of some sort.
They waited until all was quiet, then Rory poked his head out. “All clear.”
Staying low, he ran the short distance from the lifeboat to the helicopter, followed by Lincoln right behind him.
“Do we need an ignition key?” whispered Lincoln.
“Let’s hope not. It’s not military, and it’s turbine-powered, so probably not. It might have a key for the doors but those are probably unlocked right now because they’ve been working on it.”
Correct, they discovered when they tried the door. Rory gave Lincoln a boost up, since he was still limping, then climbed into the pilot’s seat and closed the door.
“Step one, complete,” said Lincoln. “You do know how to fly these, right?”
“Lucky for us, yes, I have training on helicopters. They’re very different from planes, but I’ve kept my rating current. In case you fired me, you know. Always good to have a backup plan.”
“At this rate, I’m never going to be able to fire you, even if I wanted to. I’ll be lucky if you don’t quit.” The sincerity in his usually distant boss’s voice made Rory smile. He actually kind of liked this version of Lincoln. It probably wouldn’t last, but he appreciated it.
Before pressing the ignition button, he quickly refamiliarized himself with the helicopter controls—the throttle, the collective pitch control, the anti-torque control, the cyclic pitch control.
“Can you tell if everything’s functional?” Lincoln asked nervously as he fastened himself into the copilot seat.
“Nope. But we’ll find out soon enough.” He turned a big grin on his boss. “You’re a risk-taker, right? Isn’t that why you’re investing in weird alternative forms of energy?”
Lincoln gave him a sharp look. “You’ve been eavesdropping on my meetings?”
“No. That’s just gossip. You’re not as super-secret as you think you are. I just can’t figure out what that crystal has to do with it.” He hovered his hand over the ignition button, waiting for some answer from Lincoln.
None came.
“Come on, man, we might be about to die. Can’t you answer one simple question?”
“A simple question, sure. That question, no. How about a different one?”
He’d take what he could get. “Why were we really going to Maui?”
“Since you know about my…med kit, I’ll tell you. I was going to the bunker. I wanted to secure the med kit and its contents.”
“But you said the bunker isn’t yours.”
As he watched Rory examine the controls, Lincoln explained.
“I have an interest in it. It’s owned by a consortium of high-net-worth individuals and the plan is to build more.
The Kerr family was invited to buy in. I was opposed, but my sister Maureen loves the idea. She tried everything to get me in.”
Rory had so many more questions, he didn’t know where to start. “So you gave in and joined the consortium?”
“Not the way my sister wanted. She’s still pissed. Since that’s lawsuit territory, I can’t say any more.”
“But you have access to it? And you were going to put the crystal there?”
“I needed to keep it safe.” He snapped his mouth shut, as if he was done explaining things.
Rory tried another question anyway. “Do you think Tanaka has a spy in your company?”
No answer.
“Is he behind everything that happened, or are there other companies after that crystal? Why is it such a hot property?”
“That’s a whole lot of questions, and we don’t have time right now.” Lincoln gestured at a mechanic emerging onto the deck. The man spotted them in the helicopter and started to run.
“Shit.” Ready or not, it was go time.
Rory pressed the ignition and the engine sparked to life.
So far, so good. He opened the throttle, keeping an eye on the RPM gauge.
When it reached the proper operating RPM, he gradually, carefully pulled up the collective.
Left pedal. Damn, he’d nearly forgotten that part.
These were not ideal conditions to reacquaint himself with takeoff procedure, especially when the mechanic was now running toward them and waving his arms.
Pressing the left pedal, he continued pulling up the collective until they felt the skids leave the ground. Time to use the cyclic. That leveled the aircraft out, and he pushed forward.
The craft shuddered and the nose lifted into the air. Lincoln grabbed onto the dashboard. “What just happened?”
“It’s all good. It means we’re going from vertical motion to forward motion.
” As he explained, he reduced the collective lever and pushed the cyclic forward.
He didn’t want too much forward motion, not until they were well clear of the boat.
He also didn’t want to hit the mechanic—or the guards appearing on the helipad.
Lincoln held his tongue after that, letting Rory focus on gaining elevation and adjusting the trim. Rory appreciated that, especially when a stream of bullets glanced off the exterior of the chopper. This bird must be armored, because they seemed to have no effect.
Maybe the guard remembered that fact, or maybe the distance was too great to continue shooting. Either way, the bullets stopped after that first volley, and a few moments later they were free and clear, flying like a great metal bird on the sweet Hawaiian air currents.
“Woohoo!” Lincoln whooped out loud. Rory wasn’t used to seeing him so filled with obvious joy. “You did it, man.”
“I did something. I got us off the boat. Now what? Where are we going? We need to find that speedboat that took Mathilda.”
“Can we buzz every harbor in the islands, starting with the closest?”
That sounded like as good a plan as any. Also, he liked the way Lincoln had stopped ordering him around and started including him in the decision-making.
“The boat went north. I think Kawaihae’s the first real port.” He adjusted the pitch controls to take them over the heart of the island instead of around the shoreline.
“How far is it?” Lincoln asked.
“As the crow flies, not far.” The phrase made him think of Hector, and Mathilda, and whatever mysterious danger she was in, and whether she’d ever get a chance to search for her beloved ‘alalā again. And whether he’d ever see Mathilda again.
Every thought of her was so etched with tenderness that it seemed indelible, burned into his heart forever.
Lincoln stared down into the green vastness of the seven valleys. “I can’t believe we crashed in there and survived.”
“We got lucky. Extremely lucky.”
“I suppose I should have listened to you about the weather.”
Rory swiveled his head toward his passenger. “Did I hear that right?”
Lincoln shot him a middle finger. Rory grinned to himself. Maybe Lincoln was turning into an actual human being. Perhaps surviving two plane crashes had changed him.
His boss didn’t even object when Rory told him, “Look around for some binoculars.”
“Bird-watching?” Lincoln asked as he searched the copilot’s side of the cockpit.
The mention of birds gave Rory another sharp pang.
“No, we’re going to need them to tell one boat from another. I can’t go too low without pissing off the local authorities.”
There was another problem, too. What if the owner of this helicopter radioed the authorities that it had been stolen?
One problem at a time, he told himself. First, get across this jungle without crashing yet again.