Fed?"
"Mister, you're gonna bleed to death if we don't hurry, and I'm not crawling up there to do the I.D. bit. Not as long as you have a gun."
"All right. All right." A second later, a pistol, complete with a long, ugly silencer, flew through the hole in the cockpit door and skittered across the cabin floor. Among the five guys in slick Italian suits, Jessie had only found three guns. The man up front might easily have the fifth.
''Now put your face and hands through the hole in the cockpit door where I can see them."
Silence. She sensed Kier behind her; she could feel his body heat. He had followed her. She whispered to him: "You don't dare climb up on top and start smashing the windshield unless his mug is in a spot where I can shoot it off."
Kier nodded. Then something else flew through the hole in the cockpit door. A hand grenade.
"Tillman sent you!" the man screamed.
Kier saw it coming, and he knew the conventional wisdom: If you saw a grenade coming at you, it was probably too late.
Time didn't slow down for Kier. Nothing did. There was no moment of insight or thought; his life didn't flash before his eyes. There was only time for the instinct to survive. And therein lay the telling act, because he grabbed Jessie before he jumped.
Intense heat engulfed them. Pulling her on top of him, he slid down a brushy, snow-covered hillock.
He became vaguely aware that the foliage had quit slapping their bodies. He felt Jessie slide off and watched her sink a hand into the velvety powder, trying to find purchase.
Kier helped her push up.
Half to herself, she asked, "Why'd he do it?"
"Didn't believe you? Knew he'd die anyway? No telling."
"Didn't believe what?"
"Didn't believe you were the FBI. How would the FBI get here this fast? He said Tillman.' Tillman's in those papers." He nodded back at the plane.
"What do the papers say?"
"Be right back," he said. Kier climbed to the top of the short rise. Returning in about two minutes, he noticed she looked uneasy. He wondered if she'd ever been alone in the deep forest. Around them the oaks shone stark black against the snow that glazed the upper sides of their gnarled branches, witches' fingers pointing everywhere. Behind them the taller evergreens rose like crystalline spires. For him it was a magnificent place temporarily desecrated by mankind.
"You don't like it here."
"It's a dank forest, in winter. Somebody just tried to kill us."
Kier nodded and decided against explaining his thought. Instead, he showed her the elaborate box that contained the five black binders.
"So people are killing each other over a planeful of lab reports?"
"They're into something they shouldn't be. Genetics and more, and involving my tribe. I think that plane was loaded with every infectious disease known to man. Somebody's got to—"
A mountain of air, followed by a thundering blast, knocked them both on their backs. Debris pelted the trees above them. Without the embankment they might have been killed.
Kier lay stunned, not yet believing what had just happened. Jessie was getting up, but looked woozy.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "It had to be a bomb. I doubt that fuel could have exploded that violently. We were damned lucky."
They both stood, burning debris on the snow around them, and Kier nodded toward what looked like an impenetrable wall of snow-covered branches. Ducking beneath larger boughs and dislodging a cascade of snow in the process, he knocked smaller dead branches out of the way until he had created a sheltered area just large enough for them to huddle in under the cover of an old evergreen tree. They squatted with their backs to the trunk.
She groaned.
"Sorry I haven't got a chair."
"I'll manage just fine," she said.
He pulled out Volume One and handed her the handwritten page. While she read, he took the volumes out of the heavy box and put them in his pack, abandoning his medical supplies.
"God, what was on that plane?" Jessie had finished reading. "You
"Mister, you're gonna bleed to death if we don't hurry, and I'm not crawling up there to do the I.D. bit. Not as long as you have a gun."
"All right. All right." A second later, a pistol, complete with a long, ugly silencer, flew through the hole in the cockpit door and skittered across the cabin floor. Among the five guys in slick Italian suits, Jessie had only found three guns. The man up front might easily have the fifth.
''Now put your face and hands through the hole in the cockpit door where I can see them."
Silence. She sensed Kier behind her; she could feel his body heat. He had followed her. She whispered to him: "You don't dare climb up on top and start smashing the windshield unless his mug is in a spot where I can shoot it off."
Kier nodded. Then something else flew through the hole in the cockpit door. A hand grenade.
"Tillman sent you!" the man screamed.
Kier saw it coming, and he knew the conventional wisdom: If you saw a grenade coming at you, it was probably too late.
Time didn't slow down for Kier. Nothing did. There was no moment of insight or thought; his life didn't flash before his eyes. There was only time for the instinct to survive. And therein lay the telling act, because he grabbed Jessie before he jumped.
Intense heat engulfed them. Pulling her on top of him, he slid down a brushy, snow-covered hillock.
He became vaguely aware that the foliage had quit slapping their bodies. He felt Jessie slide off and watched her sink a hand into the velvety powder, trying to find purchase.
Kier helped her push up.
Half to herself, she asked, "Why'd he do it?"
"Didn't believe you? Knew he'd die anyway? No telling."
"Didn't believe what?"
"Didn't believe you were the FBI. How would the FBI get here this fast? He said Tillman.' Tillman's in those papers." He nodded back at the plane.
"What do the papers say?"
"Be right back," he said. Kier climbed to the top of the short rise. Returning in about two minutes, he noticed she looked uneasy. He wondered if she'd ever been alone in the deep forest. Around them the oaks shone stark black against the snow that glazed the upper sides of their gnarled branches, witches' fingers pointing everywhere. Behind them the taller evergreens rose like crystalline spires. For him it was a magnificent place temporarily desecrated by mankind.
"You don't like it here."
"It's a dank forest, in winter. Somebody just tried to kill us."
Kier nodded and decided against explaining his thought. Instead, he showed her the elaborate box that contained the five black binders.
"So people are killing each other over a planeful of lab reports?"
"They're into something they shouldn't be. Genetics and more, and involving my tribe. I think that plane was loaded with every infectious disease known to man. Somebody's got to—"
A mountain of air, followed by a thundering blast, knocked them both on their backs. Debris pelted the trees above them. Without the embankment they might have been killed.
Kier lay stunned, not yet believing what had just happened. Jessie was getting up, but looked woozy.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "It had to be a bomb. I doubt that fuel could have exploded that violently. We were damned lucky."
They both stood, burning debris on the snow around them, and Kier nodded toward what looked like an impenetrable wall of snow-covered branches. Ducking beneath larger boughs and dislodging a cascade of snow in the process, he knocked smaller dead branches out of the way until he had created a sheltered area just large enough for them to huddle in under the cover of an old evergreen tree. They squatted with their backs to the trunk.
She groaned.
"Sorry I haven't got a chair."
"I'll manage just fine," she said.
He pulled out Volume One and handed her the handwritten page. While she read, he took the volumes out of the heavy box and put them in his pack, abandoning his medical supplies.
"God, what was on that plane?" Jessie had finished reading. "You
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