Final Option (Oregon Files 14)

“What?”

But he didn’t have time to explain. The drone came at them. When it was about to get within lethal range, Hali dumped all the air from the canopy and put them into a stall. They dropped like a boulder.

The drone exploded above them, shredding the canopy.

Just what Hali was expecting. He had his hand on the reserve chute and threw it away from his body.

As they plummeted, the parachute filled with air long enough to bleed off a good chunk of speed before they hit the ground.

Still, they landed with a bone-jarring impact, and Hali cried out as he felt his knee buckle at an unnatural angle while Belasco’s helmet slammed into the hardened concrete.

MacD rushed over and knelt beside them. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Hali said, his jaw clenched in pain. “I think I tore something in my leg.”

MacD detached Belasco from him and turned her over, removing her helmet. Her eyes were closed.

“Knocked cold,” he said.

He lightly tapped her cheek until her eyes fluttered open.

“What happened?”

“Hali saved your life, but you probably got a concussion in the bargain. Unfortunately, we need to get out of here in case more of those drones show up.”

Belasco pushed herself up with his help. When she got to her feet, MacD helped Hali onto his good leg. With one person hanging on each side, MacD took them toward the jetty.

Getting down off the roof was a painful adventure for all three of them. By the time they were on the steel pier, the Gator had pulled up alongside it.

Juan hopped up onto the suspended jetty and with the help of Linc and Raven they were able to lower Hali and Belasco into the sub without incident. Juan immediately ordered them to dive and rendezvous with the Oregon.

Hali took a seat on the bench while one of the med techs from the Oregon inspected his leg. He winced as she manipulated his knee.

“Looks like a torn ACL,” she said. “We’ll have to do a CT scan when we get back to the ship.”

“Looks like I got off easy,” Hali said to Juan, nodding at the inert man lying on the floor.

“Knife wound,” Juan said. “Although he’s lost a lot of blood, López is tough. They say he’s going to live, but he’ll require surgery.”

“And Machado?” MacD asked.

The Chairman’s eyes darkened. “Doc says he didn’t make it.”

“Anyone else hurt?” Hali asked.

“Linda. Looks like both of her eardrums were ruptured by a flashbang grenade that went off next to her.”

“How could such a colossal mess happen?” MacD wondered, in shock at the extensive list of casualties.

“I don’t know,” Juan said with a look of grim determination. “But I promise you, we’re going to find out.”

18

PORTO DE SANTOS, BRAZIL

Harbormaster Matheus Aguilar wished he hadn’t eaten such a big lunch. The stench surrounding him in the captain’s office on the Salem wrestled with his stomach, and the smell was winning. But he wasn’t going to leave without his payoff, even if he had to throw up in the wastebasket to get it.

“I’m sure you understand that we have to be strict in our checks and precautions, Captain White,” Aguilar said, trying to hold down the bile rising in his throat. He glanced at the filthy bathroom, where the toilet was gurgling nonstop. He worried it would belch up its contents at any moment.