Seconds to Midnight Page 7

  Montero studied the screen on her phone. “Fargo is a two-hour drive, and it looks like there’s a mall there that’s open until nine. Since Sofya has no clothes, we could still take care of that when we get there.”

  “Who are you people?” Sofya said in a whisper that sounded like either fear or rage. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Donovan, let’s sit here for a minute so the three of us can talk,” Montero said and got out so she could slide into the back next to Sofya. “Now is as good a time as any to explain to you what’s happened. I’ll let Donovan describe how he found you.”

  Donovan turned to face them. “Early this morning, I was in Canada, flying over Northern Manitoba. My crew and I witnessed an airplane in distress, a Boeing 737. The 737 made an emergency landing on a frozen lake. We saw one survivor climb out of the Boeing before it broke through the ice. You’re that survivor. We got there just after you collapsed in the snow.”

  Sofya recoiled, her eyes wide with confusion and disbelief.

  “When I reached you, you were still conscious. What you said to me set off a series of events that has brought us all here. You told me not to tell anyone you were alive—or they would kill us and our families.”

  Sofya lowered her head. The tears came, followed by shaking sobs.

  Donovan continued, “We treated you for hypothermia and flew to Minneapolis. I took you to the hospital. There is security footage that shows you leaving the hospital. We think you were taken by the individuals who were chasing us on the highway.”

  “How did they find me?” Sofya asked.

  “I have a background in law enforcement; I know a great many people,” Montero said. “In an effort to identify you, Donovan sent me your photograph after he’d saved you. I, in turn, sent them to one of my contacts in Europe, and the initial finding suggests you were a missing person. Do you remember being in Europe?”

  “No.”

  “It’s believed that you were in Krakow at one point. My contact, who was working to identify you, was murdered not long after she started her inquiry. I can only assume she was compromised, and that the information on you was released. We know very little, though, thanks to you, we do know the men in Minneapolis spoke to you in Russian. It’s a start.”

  “We’re maybe the only friends you have right now,” Donovan said. “We need to put some distance between the three of us and what happened back there on the highway. We’re going to work our way toward the Canadian border, which should put a blizzard between us and Minneapolis. That should give us time to regroup, sleep, and be ready to leave in the morning.”

  “We are going to Canada?” Sofya asked.

  “We need to discuss logistics and make some arrangements,” Donovan said. “But my plan is to go back to where the airplane crashed. It’s my hope that once we’re there, we’ll be able to find the answers to our questions.”

  “Sofya, does anything we’ve said sound familiar?” Montero asked. “The smallest fragment might help us help you.”

  Sofya shook her head. “I still can’t believe I was in a plane crash and that I made threats.”

  “Not a threat, more like a warning,” Donovan said. “We’ll work on this together, and hopefully, we’ll find the answers in Canada.”

  “Am I your prisoner? Is that why my hands are still bound?”

  “You’re in protective custody. I’ll remove them when we’re both ready,” Montero said. “I know it’s difficult. You’ve been through a great deal of trauma. We just want everyone to stay safe, including you. Right now, I want you to try to relax. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Donovan listened as Montero spoke soothingly to Sofya. It was clear that she had experience dealing with traumatized and terrified women, and Donovan was seeing a side of Montero that he hadn’t expected.

  He put the car into gear and used the GPS to guide them back out to the highway. As he drove, he thought of Lauren and Abigail, confident that Kristof would keep them safe. The Galileo was en-route to the lake where they found Sofya, and using the aircraft’s sophisticated onboard optics, they’d be able to map the entire area. Knowing Michael, he’d have all of their options figured out by morning. His best guess was that everyone connected to the woman was, for the moment, safe—except for him and Montero.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “GOOD MORNING, KRISTOF,” Lauren said as she breezed into the kitchen. “Where’s Marta? She’s usually up by now.”

  “She left to run errands,” Kristof said as he sipped his cup of tea.

  “Oh,” Lauren said, pouring herself coffee from the maker. “I didn’t know she was going anywhere today.”

  “She’ll be back before lunch.”

  “Okay.” In the short time Lauren had known Kristof, she’d seen a range of emotions, though when he seemed distracted, which he did now, she was always reminded that he was ill.

  “It sounds like Abigail is up,” Kristof said. “Have the two of you made any plans for the day?”

  “She’ll be down in a minute. I promised her I’d go for a ride with her this morning. Other than that, we have nothing planned.”

  Kristof attended to his teabag and added more hot water to his cup. “Can I ask you a question? It’s about Marta.”

  “You can ask me anything,” Lauren said.

  “One of the things I most admire about you is your relationship with Abigail. You’re a wonderful mother, and Abigail is a treasure. I especially marvel at the boundaries you set for her without damping any of her youthful enthusiasm. You and Donovan allow Abigail to explore so many things, which is wonderful to watch.”

  “Why, thank you. That’s so kind of you to say, but how does that relate to Marta?”

  “You don’t love horses, do you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lauren said. “As long as my daughter loves them, then I do, too. I think as a parent, it’s my job to adapt to her interests and passions, or it’s unlikely she’ll be able to develop them fully.”

  “That’s my point. Do you think I’ve made the wrong decision bringing Marta into my business? I’ve always insisted that it be her choice, but at times I wonder if I made that clear, or if she felt the choice was there at all. I worry that she would be happier doing something else. And my bigger fear is what I may have done to her future. A husband, and children—how does any of that fit with what she and I do?”

  “I think you’re worrying about nothing, though I know it’s hard as a parent. As long as kids know they’re loved, that they have that anchor, they’ll reach out and test the world. Marta is one of the brightest, most balanced and confident women I know. The best thing you could have possibly done was send her to school in England. She learned, participated, and looked at everything as a possible life path. You also left the door open for the family business, and she walked in of her own volition. She’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so. Yet, I wonder, how do you bring a young man home to meet your father when he happens to be me?” Kristof said as he shook his head as if to ward off the thought.

  “If said young man has the bravery to get himself in the position to meet Archangel, my advice for you is to make him feel welcome. Marta is a pretty good judge of character. She’ll weed them out as they come along. She’ll be fine, Kristof, trust me.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he reached out and took her hand.

  Abigail blew into the room, all energy and smiles. “Good morning, Uncle Kristof. Mom, can I have cereal with a sliced banana for breakfast?” She was dressed for riding, her hair tied in a ponytail.

  “Yes, I think we can manage that.” Lauren rose from the table, set out a bowl, and began slicing a banana.

  “Hannah’s already here!” Abigail said excitedly as she heard the sound of the stable door opening. “Mom, I have to go tell her we’re both riding today.”

  “Put on your boots and coat and then hurry back. You have to have breakfast before we go anywhere.”

  “I know.” Abigail ran from
the kitchen toward the back door.

  “The energy,” Kristof said as he went back to his tea. “She’s such a joy. Makes me imagine Marta at that age.”

  “They’re wonderful at all ages,” Lauren said. “Though some days you have to look really hard for it, but it’s there.”

  An explosion shattered the morning peace, shaking the house. Lauren felt her ears pop. She dropped the knife and banana in the sink and bolted for Abigail. Grabbing her coat, she flew out the door just as a large plume of dark smoke climbed above the trees. The house next door was burning—the one Kristof said was his security headquarters. From what Lauren could see, it was completely leveled. She heard the staccato sound of automatic weapons fire as she threw open the door to the stable.

  Abigail and Hannah both turned as she entered.

  “What’s happening?” Hannah’s voice wavered with fear.

  “We need to go back to the house. Now.” Lauren grabbed her daughter’s hand and turned to find Kristof at the stable door.

  “It’s bad,” he said, the small radio in his hand crackling with static. “There’s been a total breach of security, and intruders are coming down the road. Most of my men are out of commission. Get on the horses and ride toward the mountain. Circle down to the village but avoid the main road. Go!”

  Lauren nodded, and Kristof pressed a Glock into her hand. Then he turned and headed for the house. She put the pistol in her pocket, knowing it was fully loaded, and all she had to do was pull the trigger. Hannah had both horses saddled and ready. Lauren swung her daughter up into the saddle atop Zephyr. The horse snorted and sidestepped, skittish from the gunfire. Lauren jumped on behind Abigail, reached around her daughter, grabbed the horn, and used her knees to hold on. The stirrups were already adjusted for Abigail’s legs and her daughter held the reins.

  “Abigail, just let Zephyr follow me and hang on,” Hannah said in German-accented English as she kicked open the larger doors that would free the horses. She jumped up on top of Gemini and nudged the horse out into the morning, calling out softly so that Zephyr stayed close. A burst of gunfire rattled nearby, and Hannah urged Gemini up the path, then kicked hard. Both horses began to run, quickly reaching full speed through the snow.

  Lauren was terrified for Abigail. She didn’t think her daughter had ever ridden this fast. She took a quick look behind them and found the powerful hooves throwing snow high in their wake. Lauren spotted what was left of the house next door—smaller wisps of smoke were starting to rise from the chalet. Lauren was still looking behind them, trying to spot Kristof, when the first tree flashed past on their left, then more trees, and the two horses plunged into the forest, racing up the snow-covered trail as fast as they could travel.

  “Hang on, Mom!” Abigail cried out as Gemini, and then Zephyr, jumped a fallen log.

  Lauren winced as she rose and then came down hard, but Abigail rode perfectly, standing in the saddle’s stirrups, urging Zephyr faster. Lauren followed Abigail’s lead as they reached a fork in the trail and leaned with the horse as the trail broke right. When they reached a clearing, Abigail swung out and quartered Gemini as Hannah eased up and brought both horses to a halt.

  “Great job, honey.” Lauren hugged Abigail and silently hoped that Kristof made it to his safe room, out of harm’s way.

  “Abigail, very good riding,” Hannah said.

  Lauren saw Gemini’s ears pivot as the horse picked up a sound in the distance. Lauren cocked her head and listened. She, too, could hear something, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

  “It’s a snowmobile. We need to go,” Hannah said, turning Gemini. “Abigail, we need to cut through those trees to stay ahead of whoever is coming. Give Gemini and me a four-second head start so Zephyr doesn’t get blinded by the snow we kick up. Let him run, he’ll follow just fine, but stay low. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Abigail nodded and then turned to look back at Lauren. “Mom, you need to lean forward until you’re below Zephyr’s head or else you could get hit by a branch.”

  Hannah kicked Gemini and they immediately took off for the trees. Abigail waited, holding the reins firmly, until she nudged the horse and Zephyr bolted. Lauren leaned as far forward as she could, feeling more than slightly troubled that her six-year-old daughter was giving her orders.

  Zephyr pounded down the trail into the forest. Ahead, Gemini swept past snow-covered boughs, creating a miniature blizzard of ultra-fine snow. The spacing worked perfectly; by the time Zephyr arrived, the worst of the disturbed snow was settling. As they wound through the trails, the sound of the snowmobile drew closer. Abigail leaned forward, shifting her weight to help Zephyr with the turns, and Lauren mimicked her daughter’s motions. Lauren turned and spotted a flash from the low-slung snowmobile, followed by a sharp crack. There were two riders, and one had a pistol.

  “Mom, hang on!” Abigail cried out as Zephyr jumped another log. Lauren was ready and braced herself better this time. She turned to watch as the snowmobile swerved to miss the obstruction and tipped over, throwing both riders into the snow, and then the motor died.

  “They crashed,” Lauren said, hugging her daughter tighter. “Go, sweetie, go!”

  Zephyr blew out of the stand of trees and raced after Gemini, pounding through a huge open pasture covered with pristine snow. Up ahead, Lauren saw a long row of trees with only one opening and the horses were slowing, laboring as the snow deepened. Hannah had them running toward the gap in the trees when Lauren heard the high-pitched sound of the snowmobile as it erupted from the trees behind them and accelerated quickly in the open field. Lauren did the calculations and could see there would be no place to hide once they rode beyond the row of trees.

  “Abigail, the second we’re through the gap in the trees, can you make a hard right turn?”

  “Mom, what are you doing, what’s going to happen?”

  “I’m going to jump off, but I want you to keep riding with Hannah. You two get to town and go to the police. Okay?”

  “I’m scared,” Abigail said.

  Lauren wished she had time to ask her little girl what scared her most, but they were almost to the trees. “Don’t be frightened, sweetheart. Stay with Hannah, and I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Abigail ducked and Lauren followed her lead as they blew through the gap. Abigail hauled hard on the reins and Zephyr dug in, turned sharply, and continued running. Lauren released her grip and rolled to the side, the momentum of the turn throwing her free, and she landed hard, rolling in the powdery snow. She raised her head and saw that Abigail had found snow that wasn’t as deep, and Zephyr was thundering hard across the field. Lauren snapped her head around. As she’d hoped, the trees had blocked the men on the snowmobile from seeing what she’d done. As fast as she could, she scrambled to her feet and hid behind the trunk of a tree and waited. She peeled off her right glove, unzipped her coat pocket, and pulled out the Glock. She let the sound of the speeding snowmobile guide her aim. When the machine was within twenty paces of the opening in the trees, Lauren swung out, put the driver in her sights, and started pulling the trigger. Keeping the barrel level, she tracked the snowmobile’s occupants and fired eight shots until the man driving slumped, and the snowmobile jerked to the side, slammed into the trunks of some smaller trees, and then went quiet. Snow poured down from the limbs above and covered the men and their stalled machine. She turned and fled on instinct, paralleling the trees.

  A bullet sizzled through the air next to her ear at the same time she heard the report from the pistol. In the distance she saw Hannah and Abigail crest a hill, still riding fast, and then they disappeared. Lauren ducked and slid into the snow-covered brush, trying not to jostle a tree and give away her position.

  “Don’t move,” a male voice called out from the other side of the trees.

  Lauren hadn’t expected him to cover so much ground unseen. He’d come up behind her, and now she was going to die. She had to get off a shot. She gripped the Glock firmly, and tri
ed to gauge his position. She was about to spin and start shooting when she heard him abruptly exhale. She turned and brought the Glock up to fire, just as his knees buckled and he collapsed. The solitary crack of a high-caliber gunshot echoed throughout the quiet valley. Lauren lowered her pistol. The man had toppled face-first into the snow, so she could see the entry wound the high-velocity bullet had made between his shoulder blades. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  She crouched, trying to find the source of the shot. She finally heard an engine and in the distance, spotted a familiar gray Range Rover plowing through the snow-covered pasture. The driver stopped where the snowmobile had crashed. Lauren kept her Glock ready, and inched toward the figure who stepped from the vehicle. She saw a scoped rifle slung over a shoulder and a pistol in a gloved hand. The driver wore a fur hat, a leather jacket, and sunglasses. When the scarf was lowered and the figure turned, Lauren discovered it was Marta.

  “Are you okay?” Marta asked.

  Lauren closed the distance, astonished that Marta had come to her rescue, and gave her a hug. “Oh my God, how did you—what hap—?” Relief overwhelmed Lauren and she couldn’t talk, so she just held on.

  “Get in. I passed three vehicles I didn’t recognize when I was leaving the chalet and decided something wasn’t right, so I turned around. I heard the explosions from the rocket attack and arrived at the chalet in perfect position to take out the unsuspecting attackers from the rear. Dad was in the safe room, and he told me where you’d gone. Here I am. Dad is headed for the airport. We need to keep moving. Where are Abigail and Hannah?”

  Lauren pointed to the top of the ridge where she’d last seen the girls. “I never got a chance to talk to Hannah, but I told Abigail to get to the police.” Lauren swallowed hard as thoughts of Abigail pressed in on her. She slid into the Rover and checked the Glock. She had four bullets remaining.