Escape Out of Darkness (Maggie Bennett 1)

“Maybe. I’m just having second thoughts on the wisdom of taking Bud Willis’s help.”

“Why?”

“Because this brand-new Jeep didn’t come from a mercenary’s pocket or from the rebels. They’re in such rotten financial shape that the Jeep we lost in La Ceiba would look like a luxury vehicle.”

“So where do you think it came from?”

“Directly out of the CIA budget. They must want something from us, and I’m not going to be too cheerful until I figure out what it is.”

“I’d think it would be fairly obvious.”

“To you, maybe.” There was a long pause, but he didn’t volunteer any suggestions, just kept his eyes on the broad highway in front of them. “Okay, I give up. What’s fairly obvious? What does the CIA want from us?”

“Silence. They don’t want us messing around in Houston, in Honduras, in Chicaste, in Moab, Utah, for that matter. They want us out of the way.”

“You think they’re going to kill us?”

“Maybe. Somehow I doubt it. My opinion of the CIA isn’t very high, but I think they draw the line at murdering U.S. citizens in cold blood. However, I wouldn’t put it past them to look the other way if someone else gets ambitious enough to do the job.”

“Lovely thought,” she said. “Bud Willis?”

“You know him, I don’t. Is he capable of it?”

“Sure. Bud Willis is capable of anything. But the financial thing still holds true—he knows I can better any bounty placed on our heads.” She sighed. “It’s a scary thought, to think that our own government would be out to kill us.”

“No one said they were. I think they just don’t want any interference. Isn’t that why we’re looking for Van Zandt? To find out what they want from us, and to get the word to whoever that I’m not about to make waves. I just want to be left in peace.”

“That’s sounding more and more tempting,” Maggie said. “It’s also sounding more and more unlikely.”

“Thanks a lot,” Mack muttered. “Now you’re getting me depressed.”

“Sorry.” She drained the rest of her coffee. “But it doesn’t help to hide your head in the sand.”

“Tell you what, Maggie May. Why don’t you go back to sleep and let me see if I can recapture my good mood,” he said dourly.

“Suit yourself. Wake me if you see any wild boars.”

“No comment.”

They had breakfast in Danli, then headed away from Mack’s beloved highway onto rougher turf. Maggie was content to let him continue driving. Her nap had helped to soothe her temper, and even the enervating heat of the jungle didn’t bother her. She had a curious sense of destiny. If the CIA was waiting for them with a firing squad, if the ACSO or the RAO had set them up, there was nothing they could do but deal with it when it happened. In the meantime they were doing the only possible thing they could in their search for Van Zandt. And with any luck, that search would come to an end in a few hours.

The road deteriorated rapidly. With Mack driving and Maggie as navigator, they made it through a series of small towns, down one mountain and up another, through flash rainstorms, dry, baking heat, and everything in between, all in the period of several hours. It was almost dark when they drove into the smallest, dirtiest-looking town so far, and Mack pulled the Jeep up in the deserted town square, turned it off, and leaned back, stretching with the first sign of weariness he’d shown that day.

“Where the hell are we, Maggie?” he demanded, rubbing his forehead.

“Somewhere between Danli and Chicaste.”

“I already knew that, darlin’,” he said. “Do you have the faintest idea how far we are from the rebel camp?”

“We have to be close. But how close I can’t really tell. Going up and down these damned mountains adds miles to the trip. Chicaste might be the next town down the road or it may have been three towns back.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m sure we haven’t passed it yet. It can’t be more than a few more miles down the road.”

“You want to see if we can find something to eat? We’ve finished everything in the backseat. We don’t really know what our welcome will be like when we find Willis and Van Zandt. They may kill the fatted calf or they may—”

“Don’t even say it.” She climbed out of the Jeep, stretching wearily, her long arms reaching toward the darkening sky. “I wonder where everybody is?”