Her breathing steadied and the wet gargling sound lessened, then faded away. She grabbed my wrist.
“I don’t believe this . . .” she murmured.
“But you knew about it,” I said.
She started to say something, but at that moment a black Apache helicopter rose above the trees, blotting out the stars as it climbed. A searchlight stabbed into the clearing.
I scrambled to my feet, running through the options in my head. I could run—I didn’t know if Ashley would be able to stop me, but she had gone through a lot of trouble to extract me, so she would probably try. I could go with her, but so far I hadn’t run into one OIPEP agent who hadn’t lied to me at one time or another—so that might not be in my best interest either. She had saved my life, though, and running randomly through the woods didn’t seem to be a very wise option, especially since Mike was still on the mountain, probably looking for me.
So when the helicopter set down, I scooped her off the ground and ran to it. The pilot, wearing a black helmet with a dark visor, met me there.
“What happened?” he shouted over the roar of the blades above us.
“She was shot, but she’s going to be okay!”
He nodded and we got her inside.
I searched in vain for a safety belt, across the aisle from Ashley, who was sitting up, and her eyes were open as the pilot checked out her injury. He said something to her that I couldn’t hear, and she nodded, waving him toward the front of the helicopter, making a twirling motion with her index finger as if to say, Get us out of here! The wind blasting through the open hold set my teeth to chattering uncontrollably. Then we were airborne.
Ashley smiled at me. All the OIPEP agents I had known had had great orthodontics. I wondered if that was a job requirement. Are people with good teeth more trustworthy?
“Where are you taking me?” I shouted over the wind at her.
“Airport!”
“Why?”
She shouted something back that sounded like calcified, but I figured I heard it wrong and probably what she said was classified.
“Why is Mike Arnold trying to kill me?” I shouted.
She just shook her head, looked at the luminescent dial of her watch, then slapped a headset on. Her eyebrows drew together and her smile faded away as she talked; it looked like she was having an argument. Then she ripped off the headset and stood up, legs spread wide for balance in the rocking hold, turned, and pulled down a black case from the compartment above her head. She dropped the case on the seat, her back toward me, and fumbled with the contents. Maybe, I thought, she was going to put a bandage on her wound.
Ashley swung around to face me, holding something that looked like a cross between a dart gun and a water pistol.
“What’s that?” I shouted.
“I’m sorry, Alfred,” she said. “I have orders.”
And before I could move, she pressed the muzzle of the thing against my upper thigh and pulled the trigger. I felt something sharp plunge into my leg, and the world went black.
PART TWO
The Infernal Hordes
—original message—
To: Aquarius
From: ChiCubsFan
Subject: Sub-Sub-Sec. Op Utopia
See attached report doc. S.S. A.K. now in Company control.
To: ChiCubsFan
From: Aquarius