Page 38 of One Last Stand
Then behind them, as the chopper rose, a shout. “Freeze, right there. Don’t move!”
Flynn Turnquist emerged from the woods, holding a gun trained on Tomas. A night-vision monocular hung from a lanyard around her neck. As she stepped out onto the rock, she looked at London. “You okay?”
Shep blinked at her.What?Not undone and shaken to her core that London was in fact not dead on a slab in the Anchorage morgue?
And then it clicked.
Somehow, London had alerted Air One to his kidnapping, sent them in for rescue. Which meantthey all knew.
His chest burned, which might not be better than feeling nothing. In fact, maybe he’d take numb again, because he couldn’t even look at London as Flynn motioned Tomas to his knees.
“Point of order, I rescued them from the river.”
“Shut up, Tomas,” London said.
“I wasn’t going to hurt him—I just needed your attention.”
“You’ve got it. But now I’m also mad.” She moved over to him to pat him down. “He’s not armed,” she said to Flynn.
“Can I put my arms down?”
Flynn shook her head. “Just . . . stay there.”
Overhead, Axel lowered down a basket.
London moved over to Shep again. “Are you okay?”
He just stared at her. Then he rolled and, still shaking, pushed himself up. He rocked on his feet, and Flynn moved in to grab his jacket.
He tore away from her, his gaze hard. “You knew. All this time, youknew.”
She shook her head, but he didn’t believe her. After all, she was with the police department. He’d always suspected something . . . not right. After all, how did it take thirty days to figure out that the body they’d pulled from the lake wasn’t London’s?
He reached up to guide the basket to the ground.
“You go first, Shep,” said Flynn.
“No. London goes first. Then Tomas, because if he tries to run, I’m stopping him. And I don’t trust London not to run.”
He met her eyes then and didn’t care even a little about the hurt in them. “Get in the basket.”
She drew in a breath, then obeyed, visibly shivering.
Axel brought the basket up, then sent it back down, and Tomas got in.
“I hope London can handle him if he causes trouble in the chopper,” Flynn said, looking up.
He didn’t know what side London was on at the moment. “Axel is there.” Still, he wasn’t sure, and appreciated the way Axel grabbed the man out, manhandling him a little.
The basket came down empty. “You’re next.”
“You’re freezing.”
“You have a gun.”
She got in.
By the time the basket came down for him, he nearly fell into it. Axel winched him up, helped him onto the deck, and Flynn was there with a thermal blanket. Axel pulled in the basket and shut the door. “Let’s go, Moose.”