Page 87 of Montana Silence
“No.” Jude’s voice came over the line this time. “Everything’s the same. They’re going a touch slower now, but it seems fine.”
Good. That was good.
“You have a plan, Liam?” Noah asked.
“No,” I admitted. “Not until we get close enough.”
“You’re almost there.”
Standing, I looked out the front window. We were definitely gaining. It was hard to have a plan when all I wanted to do was lay hands on the man who’d taken Mara. The more likely outcome was that the blockade would stop the car. But I needed a plan anyway.
“Keep telling me how close, please.”
“Yeah, we’ll keep you updated on—” Daniel’s voice cut off midsentence. It wasn’t the connection. Everyone at Resting Warrior had gone silent.
“Guys? What’s going on?”
An eternity passed in the next seconds before Daniel spoke. “The next overpass, Liam. The car suddenly veered to the right underneath it. Confirming the car did not come out on the other side.”
My stomach plummeted through the core of the earth. What were the odds the car had simply pulled over beneath the overpass. But at that speed and a sudden jerk on the wheel? They crashed. Mara had crashed. “Shit. Daniel.”
“Don’t react before you know, Liam. Get to her. Now.”
Noise whooshed in my ears, and I flicked the channel over to the pilot. “Land on the overpass.”
“There are cars—”
“The targets just crashed beneath the bridge and might be injured or on foot. Get EMS here now, andland on the fucking bridge.”
“Yes, sir.”
I flicked the channel back. “We’re landing on the overpass. Anything?”
“Nothing. Traffic is stopping, though.”
“Shit,” I muttered. If traffic was stopping, it confirmed a crash—and probably a bad one. There wasn’t time for me to make my way down beneath the bridge the safe way. The good thing about this being a police helicopter was they had everything I needed. Gloves, rope, and guns.
I wasn’t taking a gun into this scenario, though. The psychopath probably already had one, and the more guns, the more likely Mara would be injured. The asshole could shoot at me. I would not be shooting anywhere near Mara.
The overpass came underneath us, sirens sounding as cops tried to block off the road and ambulances approached. I slid on gloves as the helicopter descended and focused my mind like I was getting ready for a real jump. I visualized the plan step by step, so all I had to do was execute. Nothing else but the plan. Nothing else.
At least I wasn’t jumping out of a helicopter without a chute.
Just off a bridge.
“Wish me luck.”
“Liam—”
I ripped off the headset and grabbed the coil of rope beside me and launched myself out the door before the helicopter even touched the ground. Knots. I whipped the rope around the railing and tied it off. Twice. Once more. It was solid, and just as Daniel said, the cars beneath me weren’t moving.
It wasn’t jumping out of a plane, but it felt the same. There was no time to secure myself. I leaped over the edge of the bridge, letting the gloves take most of the friction and lowered myself to the ground. My arms screamed, palms burning through the gloves.
My feet hit the ground too hard, impact jolting through me. It didn’t matter. Mara was all that mattered.
Oh god. The car was destroyed. The entire front end crushed, airbags deployed, and windshield cracked all to hell. I sprinted to the car, praying that Mara was alive. “Mara!” I ripped the door open to an empty seat. No one in the back seat either. The only person in the car was Claire, slumped in the driver’s seat. Her chest moved up and down, and she had no obvious injuries.
But where was Mara?