Chapter 1.
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"Due to severe dust storm closing in on Phoenix, all scheduled flights are postponed until further notice." A female voice from the speakers brought silence across the huge airport hall. For one moment hundreds of people stood motionless. Murmur was the first sound, murmur that grew into growl; then hundreds of voices reacted at the same time.
"That's just great," Hardison said to a tiny redheaded gnome that clutched his hand with sticky fingers. "That means your mommy won't miss her flight searching for you. We'll find her in a second. Just don't wail again, okay? That's a very disturbing sound."
Sniffing came from his knee level. His suspicions about the origin of sticky fingers almost confirmed.
"Dust storms are cool," he said when no answer came. "It's like a tiny cloud. A cloud full of …well, dust. I guess, never actually seen one before."
He should've just pushed the child into the arms of the first official and leave, but her fingers clutched at his like claws; if she could she would probably wrap herself around his leg like a monkey. He could find her mother; he was taller than most of the people gathered here. He would start by searching for a redheaded woman, as the girl's hair was glowing like a GM carrot with a fluorescent gene. He needed to track a similar nuance in the crowd. She should never be let to walk by the road at night - a mess with traffic lights would be horrible.
"I guess it would be wise to just raise you up and shake you, let your curls send signals to any members of the redhead tribe nearby," he said.
"I need to go potty." A whisper came from below.
"Ack," he quickened his pace, pulling the gnome after him. "No way I'm doing that. Just…no."
He had to be honest; this wasn't a nuisance, more of a welcomed intermezzo. A little distance between him, Parker and Eliot, was useful and relaxing. The latter pair had been bickering for the last two hours. Parker was nervous and hungry and Eliot was in his most annoying phase; the one when he knew he was wrong, when he was paying for being wrong, yet unable to admit he was being stupid. Flying cross-country with two fresh bullet holes made their hitter into a teeth-gritting, snarling bundle of barbed wire. Eliot had almost passed out when the girl bumped into him, so this retreat was much better than dealing with a man who cherished invincibility as an art form. And who was now forced to face his own limitations.
A twinkle of vivid orange drew Hardison's attention and he turned left, forcing his way through the unified hissing of pissed off passengers. "Here's your mommy," he picked the girl up so she could see a woman standing by a wall. If her hair wasn't enough proof, another girl that was with her definitely was. She was identical to this one. "And a sister," he added. A tall man in a suit must've been a father, he stood closely to the side.
The woman turned her head to him, and he waved.
Hardison had expected to see relief in the eyes of a mother, but in the moment her gaze fell upon the girl in his arms her face visibly changed. Pain and despair escaped in tears pouring down her face.
He slowed his own footsteps.
In an instant the woman turned grabbing a bag by her feet and hurled it in the opposite direction, hitting one chair. The tall man turned glancing after the bag. Hardison had time only to stop mid step when the woman leapt into action once more, shoving the man in the back with both hands. While he regained his balance, she grabbed the second girl and ran toward him.
Shoving the girl towards him she blurted out, "I'm a hostage! Take them away, save them!" she pushed the girl into his hands; the suit grabbed her and pulled her back.
One breath later, the suit was standing two inches from his face. Hardison still clutched the girl; now he instinctively pulled the other one closer.
"Excuse me, this is private-" But the man never finished his sentence.
"It is me you need," the woman said, her eyes conveying one last plea before darting away into the busy Terminal. She disappeared through one group of Scandinavian tourists.
The man spat a curse, torn between two targets. "Stay here!" He barked at Hardison before taking off into the crowd after the mother. His hand went to his ear while he ran, in a familiar movement; he wasn't alone here and he was calling a backup.
Stood stock still at the scene which had played out before him, Hardison had no idea what had just happened. He knew only one thing; he had to clear out.
One girl was crying and the other was heading for loud screams; too many curious eyes were on him already.
He grabbed them both tighter and headed back towards where he'd left the others.
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His fingers trembled.
Eliot kept both his hands in the pockets of a jacket. It eased a pressure on the bullet hole in his right shoulder, but more importantly, it hid the treacherous shaking from the rest of the team; especially from Hardison. Letting him see how bad he felt would mean admitting that the hacker was right when he warned him that this was too much. There wasn't any alternate universe in which that option would be considered a good one.
He had been stood two steps behind Parker, Nate and Sophie. Hardison went to get rid of some noisy brat that screamed around them. The girl had bumped into him, hitting with immaculate precision the bullet hole in his leg. His vision had blurred more and he pushed more energy into his bland stare and casual posture. Nothing to see here, move along. He was fine, able to do his job – but still he avoided Nate's eyes. Nate was listening to Parker's explanation of hundreds of dead pigs, but his eyes were calm. And steady. And on him, not on Parker. There was nothing assertive in the way their Boss watched him, but it pushed him into his defensive posture nevertheless.
All his senses screamed security breach, attacked with hundreds of voices around them. He knew he felt that way because of the shitty state he was in, yet it didn't calm his unease. Morning crowd at the main airport hall moved too fast for his blurred vision. He couldn't do his usual scan-check of faces and quick paces around them, it would make his dizziness worse, but he could check people sitting near them. Long rows of plastic chairs were full of faces that didn't move or jump, or blur.
He stood, trying not to collapse, and scanned row after a row, slowly; he set his face into a blank mask and radiated his move-away-now vibe.
And not only was the hacker right when he had told him that flying from Washington DC to Portland only several hours after getting shot, was stupid and dangerous – but Hardison was also awfully reasonable about it. Another sting and poke in his already shaken pride.
Of course it was stupid. Of course it was dangerous. As if he didn't know that. But they had to be in Portland as soon as possible, and there was nothing else to do.
This layover in Phoenix – though it eased their worry about Nate and Sophie when they miraculously joined them out of nowhere – was at the same time a good opportunity to rest and catch a little breath, but also a reminder that they had almost three hours more to fly to get to Portland. He was oscillating between growling and whining; both would tell them how lousy he felt, so he simply kept his mouth shut.
He planned to barely survive this reunion. Course of action: step one – stay on your feet until they found out why their planes landed. Step two – get back in the plane ASAP. Step three – sleep.
He was sure he could manage. There wasn't any point in letting Sophie and Nate see that their voices were amongst the many which melted into a white noise along with all other sounds around them.
He concentrated on step one, carefully pulled his hands from his pockets, crossing them, and dug his heels into a concrete floor.
The next moment, Sophie was standing in front of him, completely blocking his view. The grifter's eyes lit with a smile, but there was that dangerous narrow, barely visible to an untrained eye. People generally narrowed their eyes lowering the upper eyelid. Sophie Deveraux raised her lower ones. One millimeter was enough to put that predatory hunger into her gaze.
She moved her index finger left and right, pointing at his general direction. He observed her crimson nail polish, and stayed silent.
"So?" she said. "You look relaxed, I'd almost say content. Oh, and nice."
I look like I might collapse. He knew there would be questions about his trip to Boston, but he hoped she would wait until they got home.
She paused. "May I ask about that decision, what triggered it?" He still said nothing, watching Sophie choosing her words. "Or for what reason? A change is good – but knowing when it happened, can we take it as an omen of more changes to come?"
Okay, now was the time to concentrate, her words didn't make any sense. What changes to come? "What triggers? What are you talking about?"
"That," she waved her finger again. "Your hair."
He blinked once. Yeah, he cut his hair, but they knew, they saw him- nope. Only Nate saw him when he came back from Afghanistan, and he obviously hadn't mentioned anything to the others. Sophie had no idea when it happened. And that could only mean that she thought… Jesus. He felt blood pumping to his face. "I didn't cut my hair in Boston! I did it in a military base on the other side of a world. What are you implying – that it was some, some… suggestion that I obeyed, or, or-"
"And why would that be a bad thing?" Sophie tilted her head a little, her eyes becoming disturbingly bright. "Even if Florence suggested, or asked you to cut-"
"No names. Geez, you people really don't know anything about privacy, security, protection-"
"Oh, spare me!" She rolled her eyes. "We've been practically living in each other's minds for years. And I was a knee deep in your tragic tilting around each other. I want to know everything. Every. Bloody. Thing."
He swallowed, he couldn't help it. Sophie on a mission – that was the most terrifying thing he could imagine. "No," the word escaped in a low growl. "Too much is at stake, I won't risk- I didn't joke when I said no names. I'm serious. I will tell you…bits, eventually, but from now on, I wasn't in Boston at all. I was in … Russia."
"Oh dear, are you starting with code names now? She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"Not. Joking."
She sighed and stepped back. "Okay. Just one more thing." She hesitated a little and brightness left her eyes. He could see a thousand questions whirling inside, suppressed. "Are you…okay?"
He knew what she was asking. The thousand questions in one – his reply would answer them all. Before he could think of something to say, he felt a treacherous smile emerging. No way to stop it; he couldn't control a damn smile that flashed every time he thought of her. Sophie didn't wait for his words. She didn't have to, damn grifter. Her face gleamed and she tapped his forearm, a light touch. It has sentences and sentences in it. He nodded.
She darted one look beside him. "Details of your Russian quest will have to wait for a better time," she said. He quickly turned around.
Hardison returned with one more girl identical in every detail, from long red locks to tiny backpacks and yellow shoes. Even before Eliot saw his eyes, he knew he could wave goodbye to his sleeping on the plane.
Hardison's eyes screamed trouble almost as loud as the twin girls wailed in stereo.
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Eliot had to choose if he would listen, or observe the surroundings; there was no strength and concentration for both. Nate's gaze became steady and attentive while he listened to Hardison's quick explanation, and that decided it for him. Observing.
He took one step back and to the side.
There. Three guys. Dark grey suits and lazy steps. Their suits flashed government agency from a mile away. How the hell Hardison managed to involve them in trouble with God knows who, in only three and a half minutes?
He took one more step back and stood closer to one woman with a large backpack. She studied her tablet, not noticing him in her personal space. He opened his stance toward her, making them a pair, separating himself from the small group with two girls.
"No time for explaining, we have clients, just move already! Parker, Eliot, lead the way, and smile!" Hardison stopped mid-speech. The hacker looked at him, read his stance and his back went stiff as if he sensed the three guys approaching from behind him.
Nate didn't need anything more. "Parker, a diversion please."
The suits spread out and Eliot changed his mind. No government professional would keep that lazy, predatory slide while trying to come closer unnoticed; they were glaring in a crowd of busy, fast people. They could be bodyguards or someone's security, or just paid muscles. But, one of them was talking into his earpiece. Government or not, they weren't alone in here.
The giant circular sliding door was over two hundred meters away; before they reached the exit, all their security would gather from all sides and block it.
Nobody noticed Parker disappearing, but neither was anybody surprised when her voice wailed out from the other side of the hall.
"A bomb! They have a bomb!" The sheer terror and desperation in her voice pierced even through him, catching his breath; the effect it had to ordinary people was devastating. A movement started as a trickle, people heading for the exit – but in a few seconds, a river of bodies burst the sliding door and poured out. The chaos had exploded with screams and yelling.
"Follow them, but don't get caught in panic!" Nate pushed Hardison and Sophie before himself, each dragging one girl. Then he turned to him. "Eliot…" He watched the suits who were no longer hiding, they charged at them.
Well, with one good arm and leg, this should be interesting. "Take 'em away – find a big car," Eliot took two careful steps – okay, to be honest, it was more of a limp - closer to the first row of seats, now empty. "Wait four minutes, then leave," he added as an afterthought.
He didn't check what Nate did. The suits assessed the situation correctly; a man was left to buy some time for the others. Remove the man, continue after the others, he knew how they thought. Simple and efficient.
He needed a weapon.
His right shoulder was stiff and any uncontrolled movement would make new damage, but he wasn't crippled. He was just pissed off. Those three men should've thought better than to ruin his plans about sleeping on the plane.
He gave them one more second – the nearer they came, the less he had to walk – and then bent down and caught the row of plastic seats with both hands. The right hand was more for balance than for strength now – the left did the tearing apart. Five seats were connected with metal poles, attached to the floor on both ends.
The suits hit the brakes when he straightened up with a plastic barricade. Massive, yet light enough to handle with ease. Light enough to be raised – with his left arm – and swirled above his head.
"Let's dance." He smiled.
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"Low profile, low profile," Hardison murmured in a rhythm with their steps. Nate was certain he was talking to calm the girls down; they hadn't stop crying since the first step. The hacker carried one girl; Sophie wrapped her green scarf around the girl's hair, and that was a wise move. People would remember a tall black guy with a curly redhead child. Nate knew well that even in a panic, images stayed carved into people's minds. And low profile they needed indeed.
Sunlight hit their eyes when they burst out. They all caught their breaths as if they sailed into hot dough; no air to breathe, just hot stickiness that engulfed them. Welcome to Arizona. Nate loosened his tie. No time to get rid of his suit jacket, they had more important things to do.
A small group was invisible in a mass of people running away, some of whom were still screaming. Nate let Hardison and Sophie choose their way to any of the parking lots; he stayed behind observing, searching. There was no one behind them. He didn't expect a chase, but police sirens were closing in. They had maybe two minutes before police swarmed the place.
"We should've stayed inside, Nate," Sophie said over her shoulder. "A cover of a crowd is much better than this. Hardison, what on earth happened there?"
"A woman managed to push the kids to me, said she was a hostage, nothing more. Nate, Sophie might be right – we should stay close to her. What if they take her-"
"No," Nate said. "Retreat, until we find out whom we are dealing with. Keep walking."
They faced a clusterfuck at the parking lot. Hundreds of cars tried to go out at the same time, and air filled with sirens and honking. Angry engines roared. Hot asphalt vibrated, sending dust into heavy air.
"This is madness – we'll never be able to-" Sophie yelped and jumped away when one truck driver slammed his door open, jumping out to deal with a SUV that was blocking his way. She quickened her steps, but Hardison caught her arm to stop her.
"We need a van, not a car," Hardison pointed at one possible target. A white delivery van was parked at the far end, near the wire fence. Old and rusty, nothing that would stand out. "Fence has removable parts, to avoid fuckups just like this one. They will soon open it, or we'll do it for them."
Hardison was right. Five of them, with two kids, would need a lot of space. Nate turned to the airport door, but Eliot and Parker weren't in sight. He checked all cameras around them, covering the better part of this parking lot, and along the way they came. "Can you two open the van, or we'll have to wait for Parker?" he asked them, inviting them to continue walking with a wave of his hand. Standing amidst moving people wasn't clever. Security would examine every camera recording later, and that could draw attention to them.
"It depends," Hardison tapped his laptop bag on his shoulder. "Hacking might take a few minutes, and my battery is low. Parker would need eleven seconds for this type of van."
"You'll start, and we'll see-"
"I have to pee!" a muffled cry came from a bundle in Hardison's arms; the girl tried to free herself, flailing her arms around them.
"Perfect," Nate said.
"What the hell is perfect in-"
"Sophie will take her." He ran over Hardison's words. "And make sure it's near the van and well visible. We'll just rest by the van while we wait – all normal, girls have to pee even in a panic – and then just drive away."
"If our luck holds, the security officer who checks the cameras will just glance away and continue," Sophie finished. They exchanged girls, Hardison got another one. Nate hid a smirk when the hacker sighed, looking at the same face, but facing a different shrieking frequency. That one was crying all the time, and her face was a slimy mess.
"Hurry up," Nate said, resting his back on the van.
First police cars arrived, and blue uniforms poured out. But Nate watched only the second wave of vehicles – five dark vans carried the real threat: heavily armored riot cops and SWAT teams.
He listened to Hardison's typing, until the new noise covered everything with roaring and dust. Two helicopters had arrived. Their rotor blades swirled hot air, hitting his face in heavy waves. Nate started a countdown.
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"Ouch, ouch!" Parker's voice ruined Eliot's concentration; he had to push himself off the ground with his one good leg, place a final hit with it, and land back on the same leg. Her comment caught him mid-air and his flight almost ended in splattering himself all over the target; the last man standing. A very disturbing image of Will E. Coyote frozen in thin air above the abyss one second before the fall crossed his mind. It was enough to mess his coordination, and as a result his wounded leg took the entire impact when he landed.
He finished the man with one generous swing of the seats, and placed the row over the groaning heap of three bodies.
He darted one pissed-off glare at Parker; the thief smiled.
"I crushed two cameras covering this part," she said. "Don't know if there's more, we have to clear out. Security is-"
"Stay right there!" A yell came from somewhere behind them.
"-here." She finished with the same gleam. "Can you walk? Do you want me to find something to-"
"Don't even say it, Parker!"
"But-"
"Just run."
He turned around, quickly checking all obstacles, gritted his teeth and sprinted as best he could. The thief's lithe shadow followed just a step behind. The first ten steps were excruciating agony; he had spared the leg by knowing he would need a quick retreat, but this put his entire strength on a very dangerous test. The risk of stumbling or passing out was very real, and more and more likely every second.
The suits had occupied him for almost two minutes. While the panic around them was calming down, where most people escaped, there were still too many people to avoid. His pace faltered. The chase was nearing them with steady thumps of heavy shoes following them.
They were just fifty meters from the door when blue uniforms galloped in with the same speed they were running at them. They were just seconds from a complete lock down; he slowed a bit, assessing their chances. He could knock a few of them down, use their bodies to block the circulating door, keeping one side open for Parker, and-
She dashed beside him, and her fingers jabbed into his forearm, stopping him with a painful jerk. "I need a help here!" her voice rose. She clutched his arm and pushed him closer to the first policeman. "I think my husband is having a heart attack! Help us!"
His leg gave way and he stumbled right when the cop looked at them – he could always say it was deliberate acting.
The cop waved at them. "Clear the perimeter, Ma'am, no stopping-"
"We need a medical assistance!" she yelled, grabbing the cop's arm. All around them, heavy armored cops spread in the line; five of them were at the door.
"Fine, move - we have ambulances outside – you just can't stay here!" He waved to an officer at the door to let them pass, and Parker dragged Eliot after her. A few other passengers were stopped and directed to other gathering places. They passed the door at the last moment – after them, police barricades were put up. The airport was sealed.
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Nate saw Parker and Eliot as they staggered toward the ambulances. At this distance he couldn't tell if they were driven by need, or if they were acting. They disappeared from his sight before he could decide.
"Hardison, progress?" he un-crossed his arms and checked – impatiently – how Sophie and the second girl were doing, as every parent and husband would do in this panic.
"Minutes, Nate, can't hurry up Mother Nature."
Nate closed his eyes when he felt a change on his face. Hot wind swirled the dust around with the same strength, but the sun wasn't burning his skin anymore. Somewhere high above them a veil went over the sun, and all colors dulled.
For the cameras sake, he checked his watch once, then paced a few steps up and down alongside the van. Even seconds were dangerous now – minutes were deadly. He spared a few glances towards the ambulances. No familiar faces in sight.
"Hey you, what are you doing with my van!?" A man appeared from behind their backs; he had keys in his hand, and he stopped when he saw Hardison's laptop. "Sonofabitch… police! Somebody!" his voice rose, and a few heads turned in their direction. "Help, police, they're steal- urgh-" One forearm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his words.
"Any ideas?" Eliot asked still holding the van owner in a deadly grip. He pulled him two steps closer to the van and rested his shoulder on its side; almost casually. His attempts to hide how much he spared his leg were truly pathetic. Nate put him into the 'severely incapacitated' category, and changed a few calculations in his mind.
Parker darted past them and went to the driver's door. Eleven seconds might be too much now, Nate knew, watching the commotion around them, noticing the cops' heads turning in their direction.
"Sophie, bring the kids, we're clearing out," Nate said, covering the hurry in his voice with one more lazy glance at his watch. "Move it, move!"
Locks clicked, and Nate opened one door. Parker jumped into driver's seat and in five seconds, just how long Sophie needed to bring the kids closer, the engine came to life.
The owner's face still wasn't purple; a way Eliot held him could – from the distance – look as a friendly hug. But there was nothing friendly in the hitter's eyes. "This is a mistake, Nate," Eliot said. "We must stay-"
"No time, Eliot, get in!"
The hitter swallowed the rest of the sentence, and slammed the owner into one car. Rage he radiated was like a visible cloud around him.
Sophie and Hardison scrambled inside, dragging the girls with them.
"No! Don't' want to go! I want my mommy!"
"That's it," Eliot growled. Bad move. Their screams went into shrieks. The hitter grabbed their tiny Hello Kitty backpacks, raised them both in the air, and swung them into the van. "Move already!" Eliot growled at him, and Nate jumped in the last.
Parker didn't wait for Nate to close the door behind them, and when she whirled the van he almost fell out. Hardison caught him and the door, pulling him inside at the last moment.
The last thing Nate saw before the door slammed shut was the shocked face of the owner, and his hand pulling out a phone.
They smashed open the fence and went through.
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The van was some sort of a mini bus, with three rows of seats. And it wasn't designed for Parker's driving; violent jerks and speed set a constant tremble in the old construction. All of them used both hands, spread to both sides, to keep themselves in their seats. Sophie took the girls behind and tucked them together in a corner seat. Her quiet whisper calmed them down. But no quiet whisper could ease the tension in the rest of the van.
"Nate, what the hell are you thinking?" the shroud around Eliot went thicker, fueled with anger – and Nate saw it clearly – a lot of suppressed pain. The hitter's face was deadly pale. He used only his left arm to hold himself steady between two seats. "We created a panic to cover our asses, a mass of people – now we are running away, marked as child kidnappers, open targets in a fucking white van!"
"Prepare for trouble," Hardison said pointing through the window; police sirens grew louder. "I'm trying to infiltrate police channels- yep, here they are," Hardison put his phone on speaker, and female voice said, "All units, all units – ongoing car chase. Possible suspects wanted in conjunction with a terrorism threat. Confirmed suspects in conjunction with child kidnapping. All units, all units: 207, 215, 240, 505A. Be on the lookout for a white van, suspects are considered armed and dangerous."
"505A?" Parker yelped. "I'm not driving recklessly! I have total control-"
"Other codes, Parker?" Nate said.
"Kidnapping, carjacking, assault."
Hardison was still looking through the window. "They're after us. And not only police – there's another two dark cars behind them, probably full of our friends in the suits."
"Of course they are after us, when we just kidnapped two kids!" Eliot's rage didn't calm down. Nate noticed when he stopped balancing his weight, sparing the wounded leg. "We could've used the mess and confusion to separate, stay in the crowd and keep low-"
"Bullshit," Nate said.
That silenced them all. The engine continued to howl. "Come again?" Eliot's voice went into a low rasp. Eliot Spencer, angry, deranged with pain, and hovering over him in a tight space - every normal person would jump out that instant. The girls let out one quiet keening sound and Eliot glanced over his head to the back of the van. Nate knew, even before the hitter rolled his eyes, what kind of dead-stare Sophie darted from her seat.
But the girls weren't important now. "I know what I'm doing," Nate said. He leaned back into his seat, watching the two of them. Hardison closed his laptop, put away the phone, and put both his hands on the laptop. "You see, the airport is sealed," Nate continued. "Five wanted criminals could separate and disperse in a crowd, but it was too risky. Response time for terrorism threats are shorter and shorter, you saw how fast they were. We would be caught. Now, we won't be."
"You don't know that," Eliot said, this time with effort and without growling. "But I can tell you that our chances are much worse now."
As if confirming his words, a new noise joined the police sirens – a helicopter engine. Eliot hissed a curse that thankfully didn't reach the back, and moved to the other row of seats. Helicopter was on their left, flying low.
"That's it, we're screwed. I can't fight a fuck-" he stopped himself. "I can't fight a helicopter! A car chase of this sort is a dead-end, no way to escape-"
"Stop, wait. Lets' see what we have here," Hardison's hands remained deadly still. "Five wanted criminals who kidnapped two kids, in a stolen van, running from a terrorism threat they probably caused, chased with police cars and helicopters, and completely unable to escape. And you're sayin' we won't be caught? Nate?"
"Nate!" Parker turned in the driver's seat. "I have to choose now – head for the desert, or turn to Phoenix."
"Desert," he said.
"What?!" both Hardison and Eliot said at the same time.
"Only in traffic might we have a slim chance, not in the open-
"Okay, enough!" Nate cut Eliot off, and straightened up. "The airport would be a kill box for us. The mother was a hostage, and faced with us and police, with her captors behind her, she would confirm we snatched the children from her. Our IDs are aboard our planes. Three of you came with a private jet, which would be searched. We came with a regular carrier, and all our bags are full of false IDs, bugs, and incriminating surveillance equipment. We didn't have time even to see which aliases we are using. They would need twenty minutes for identification, remember? All our crime records, everything, would be in their hands, and with riot cops and SWAT teams trigger happy because of this crisis, we would be in real trouble. Real. Trouble." He stopped for a few seconds, watching his words sinking in. "And the most important thing," he continued when he saw their thoughts speeding up. "Eliot, let me guess… you weren't in hospital, were you?"
"Of course not, it wasn't necess-" Eliot stopped when he got it.
"And one of us has two bullet holes, only several hours old, and no medical records that would say when or what happened." He finished with a pale smile. "I do pay attention to all details, you know? That's what I do."
"Okay," Eliot's word came short and low, but the rage had calmed down. "But the airport fuck-up is nothing compared to this one we're heading in to, Nate. No way to escape this chase with a helicopter. On the open road, road blocks are only a matter of minutes away."
"As I said, details. You missed one important thing."
Hardison's face froze, but it wasn't a reaction to his words. The hacker had glanced to Parker, and his head stayed turned in that direction, glued at the road.
"Not in a mood for quizzes, Nate," Eliot said. "What detail?"
"Erm, Eliot," Hardison nudged him with his elbow, still not moving, and the hitter looked at him. Hardison's eyes were so wide open that it seemed they would pop out and hit the windshield like champagne corks.
Nate patiently waited for Eliot to turn around and follow Hardison's gaze out toward the desert in front of them.
Eliot's face went one shade whiter.
Everything in the van grew darker.
"What the hell…" the hitter whispered, staring at the dark wall emerging before them. It grew from a desert, hundreds of feet tall, rolling toward them.
The helicopter shrieked in agony while taking a quick turn right above their heads. Turned around and ran back to safe airspace.
"You forgot the reason why our planes had all landed," Nate's voice sounded dull; it seemed that the dust storm sucked in all the air around them. Their collision was only a matter of seconds now – the sun got sucked into a whirl first, and faces in the van became grey shadows.
'Woo hoo' from Parker was the last thing they heard before the storm lashed at them. A blast turned the daylight into a howling darkness, thundering sand whipping them like a myriad of bullets.
A storm swallowed them.
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