The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,43
Rover into a spin on the wet road. Kowalski dropped the empty pistol and grabbed the wheel with both hands, as warning lights flashed across the dash. He regained control more by sheer will than by the grip of the SUV’s tires. With the Rover now headed back the way it had come, he hit the accelerator and raced away from the motorcycle as it gave chase.
He might have made it, except that another lumber truck came barreling out of the storm at them. It purposely jackknifed across the road, blocking their escape. But not before a black SUV sped around it and raced to close the distance.
Goddamned bastards had backup upon backup.
“We’re not getting out of this,” Maria called from the back.
Like hell.
He swerved off the road and bounced headlong into an open field. Unfortunately, the heavy downpour had turned the fallow field into a muddy bog. Kowalski fought the Rover as best he could on its three good tires, but halfway across the field, it became mired in the mud, wheels spinning uselessly.
Kowalski swore and checked the rearview mirror. The other SUV had fared no better, even worse in fact. It had made the mistake of attempting to follow the Rover’s tracks. The freshly churned-up mud proved more treacherous, quickly burying the vehicle up to its axles.
Men were already emptying out.
More came from the road.
“It’s a footrace from here,” Kowalski warned. “Everybody out.”
As they all bailed from the Rover, Maria gasped. Kowalski turned. Mac clambered out next to her, his face a mask of pain. He had a hand clamped on his left shoulder. Blood seeped out faster than the rain could wash away. He had been struck sometime during the barrage, but the man hadn’t made a sound.
Maria went to help him.
Instead, Mac nodded to the open door. “The case.”
She understood and retrieved the lead-lined box. A fresh barrage of gunfire ripped the grassy field and pinged off the back of the Rover.
Kowalski pointed to a dark line of trees ahead. He prayed it marked the edge of a forest they could get lost in. “Go!”
They set off across the boggy field, the mud sucking at their boots. They kept the bulk of the Rover between them and their pursuers, but that meager protection would not last long. Still, they reached the trees safely and stumbled into cover. Unfortunately, they could not catch a break. The trees were thick pines, densely packed, but it was only a small copse.
Beyond the tiny patch, the ground fell away toward a black lake a mile off, framed by volcanic cliffs. Closer at hand, lights glowed in the storm, marking a town.
“That’s Castel Gandolfo,” Maria said. “Sitting above Lake Albano.”
So close, yet so far.
“Almost made it,” Mac said with a groan. Clearly the man had spent the last of his energy—and a good amount of his blood—getting here. He was going no farther.
Maria grimaced as she stared at the man, recognizing his plight, then turned to Kowalski. “You could still do it,” she said.
“Do what?” he asked, though he already knew.
She held out the case. “You need to get this over to that village. You’re the only one who could make that run.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll only slow you down. Besides—” She glanced to Mac. “I’m not leaving him, alone and bleeding.”
He knew she was right and knew she would never leave the injured man.
Still, he balked.
She pointed down the slope to a steaming vent where a thin stream ran down toward the distant lake. “There’s a small cave there. Probably a hot spring. We’ll hole up inside there. You haul ass for that village.”
Shouts rose behind them. The enemy was closing in.
He stared at Maria, his heart hammering in his ears. He did the only thing he could—and took the case.
10:48 P.M.
Maria and Mac huddled deeper into the steamy warmth of the shallow cave. She cringed as footfalls and voices sounded to the left, but none of the pursuers spotted their hiding place.
All eyes seemed to be on Joe. She spotted his shadowy form bounding down the slope, using bushes and boulders as cover. A thin stream bubbled out of the back of the cave and flowed between her and Mac. The injured man sat with his knees at his chin in order to cram his big body into the small space. He shivered despite the heat, probably close to shock from blood loss and pain.
Sirens echoed over the hills as local police responded to the gunfire. She prayed the