Chapter 45

"Any way to slow down?" I shouted up front.

"We have a tail. Sorry, John, I think you need to hang on a bit longer."

"You aren't going to try and lose them, are you? I mean we're in a big black van. Not hard to miss."

"John, that's not the object. We didn't know if we'd get a tail, but we're prepared for one. We just have to make it so they think we're losing them. They'll be cornered in, in about five minutes."

I now understood why, when they set me in the back of the van at the hospital, they set foam padding between my legs. My hands were outstretched and grasping tightly to straps.

"You expected this then. Why the hell do I feel like a piece of bait?"

"John, sorry, can't talk right now."

The van's tires squealed as they banked hard. I lost my grip and rolled to my side. The van straightened and I rolled back over to my other side. As soon as I got on my back and grasped the straps, it happened again.

"Fuck!" I said as I ended up on my front this time.

No one responded. I'm not sure they heard me. I could hear the one yelling out locations, the other one driving. Then there was a barrage of talk between them.

"They've got a launcher out the roof, Frank."

"Fuckin' hell!"

"One more turn, we need one more."

"Do it quick."

"Going to need to get John out, you ready?"

I was listening to their conversation but I wasn't sure that last question was directed towards me, or to the driver.

The van tipped, and I was sure it had lifted two wheels from the ground. I lost my grip again, and rolled, this time smashing into the side of the van. The van hit the ground hard and I lunched forward, almost enough to sit upright. Just as fast as I became upright, I fell back. Luckily, I lifted my head as I landed on my back.

"What the fuck!" I heard.

The tires squealed as we braked hard to a stop.

Then I heard, "Shit. I'm sorry, John."

The communication center was operational. The mess hall was open and everyone (save the two who were manning the communication's center) was in there, when they got the notification that the helicopter had been spotted.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Jeanie's husband said, "but you have a shitload of radios in this place. Why did you have to wait 'til they were on the radar screen to know they were almost here?"

"There are only a handful of people who know where we are," the pilot of the airplane replied. "Any communications sent out, and they could get a fix on us. Right now, we're not visible."

"With a plane on the runway?" Tim asked jumping into the conversation.

"What plane?"

"It's gone?"

"Can't be seen from satellites, and if a plane flew close enough, we'd know about it. This is still restricted air space, so no one except someone who was looking for us would be showing up."

"Then how do you know it's the right helicopter showing up?" Tim asked.

"We have our ways."

Jessica had been listening into the conversation and said, "I'll be glad when it shows up. I have to talk to John."

The pilot averted his eyes, not wanting to look at Jessica.

"He's not on the helicopter, is he?"

"No, he's not."

"Is he going to come here?" Jessica asked in a pained voice.

The helicopter pilot pointed. They were glad to see the destination, especially Special Agent Downs. It had been a hard and long ride.

They landed moments later. Two men rushed out to the helicopter as the engines were shutting down.

They took one look at Downs and one of the two ran back towards the building. The other man motioned for the Bartenelli brothers to come out.

They looked at the rotating blades, stepped out, ducked further than needed, and ran towards the building.

Theresa and the other nurse came out with a stretcher. Downs looked at it, closed his eyes, and groaned. Then, dutifully, he let himself be loaded up into it. The two women then carried Downs back into the building.

Once inside, away from the noise, the questions started.