“Do you see them?” he asked her.
“No,” she cried. “What the hell?”
He looked at her, grim. “I think the Navy has stepped it up.”
Narrow curvy roads surrounded the lake. He could be driving straight into an ambush, and he wouldn't have time to know. He needed to get onto one of the main roads. He gassed the big vehicle even as it went sailing over a rise.
There was a vehicle parked perpendicular on the road, about fifty feet in front of him, figures in black hunkered down in front and beside of it. Wyatt saw the flash of weapons before the windshield shattered. Instinctively, he reached out, pushing Rowan’s head down toward the floorboard.
Without letting up on the gas, he plowed through the roadblock, hitting the car. He hated to think that he might be killing Navy SEALs. But he also wondered what they were thinking. They were trained for missions overseas. Not domestic. Why were they being told to come attack him?
Skidding out onto the main road at 50 mph, he spun the wheel, heading West, and took off.
“Are you okay,” he yelled.
Rowan nodded, lifting her head. Her eyes were wide in her face. Fearful. “What the hell just happened?”
“I think this splinter faction of the Navy tried to blow us up. Someone very high up wants us gone. As well as the evidence, we may or may not have.”
She blinked, nodding. “I think you're right.”
They drove through the night, taking random back roads just in case they had pursuers. When he stopped the first time for gas, he called Charlie.
“Thank goodness you guys are alright. You are alright? Yes.”
“Yeah, we're fine. Our tail feathers got a little singed, but we're OK. What the fuck happened?”
“I have somebody watching Commander Gillette. And I had notification that he was on the move. I knew something was up. That was a pretty drastic move, though.”
“You're telling me,” Wyatt laughed. “So, Gillette, huh? He’s kind of exposed his hand, hasn’t he?”
“I believe so. I have a call with the Chief of Naval Operations tomorrow, and I will try to get him an audience with Rowan. Keep your phone handy. I might have to fly you out quickly.”
“Will do. Any chance you talked to Ken’s parents? Do they remember seeing the logbook?”
“They remember seeing it, but they don’t know what he did with it.”
“Fuck,” Wyatt breathed. “Okay. Keep us posted.”
“Will do.”
He hung up feeling wrung out. The commander of his former platoon was dirty. He’d been the one helping Ken transport the opium out of the country. And it made sense. He could sign off on most anything for transport. By coming out like this though, wasn’t he signing his own death wish? He’d exposed himself to the Navy, and they were going to respond. It would be a silent and deadly response, he was sure, and nothing would hit the airwaves.
The explosion tonight, he was sure, would be attributed to a gas leak, or something just as innocuous. Not a targeted attack on domestic soil.
Of course not.
Rowan climbed into the passenger side of the truck. “This thing is looking a little rough.”
Wyatt glanced around. The windshield was shattered, but more in the center. He could still see out fine. The front grill had been shattered and the driver’s side quarter panel was crumpled, but everything was still mechanically sound. The fact that none of the gunshots last night had hit anything important spoke to the operators’ inexperience in live-fire situations. Or they weren’t trying to kill them. Hm… No, that wasn’t right. They’d blown up the fucking house they were staying in.
“I think it has character,” he corrected, flashing her a grin. The adrenalin was still pumping, and he wanted to get moving.
“So, where do we go now?”
He could hear the fear in her voice and he turned to her. “Hey, we’re okay. We made it out safe.”
“This time,” she said, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “I hate being on the run like this. I want off this fucking roller coaster!”