Alone by Francine Pascal Page A

misery.
    The George conundrum was going to have to wait.

The Hazy Distance

    THE COUNTRYSIDE WHIZZED PAST Tom at an alarming rate as he raced through it on the saddle of a borrowed Harley. It was a little macho, maybe even smacking of a slight midlife crisis, but there was no denying that it was the quickest way to get from point A (the resort) to point B (the airport).
    They had frozen Loki’s assets. Now they had to get the hell out of Dodge. Once Loki found out what Tom had done, he would strike where he was most vulnerable: Gaia. It killed Tom not to be close enough to protect her. On a normal day, Loki was dangerous. When threatened, the danger factor was raised exponentially.
    The 500 ccs of power hummed beneath his saddle while Natasha held on around his waist. He veered down every back road imaginable, finally seeing the airport in the hazy distance. There was a back entrance that he remembered from a long-ago assignment here, and he shot for it, hoping against hope it hadn’t been fenced in.
    It hadn’t. All was well as he buzzed across the wide tarmac, heading for the chartered plane parked at a short distance from the tiny airport. The gangway was lowered; the pilot was already aboard: All was ready to get him out of this country and back to New York.
    He pulled the bike up short, allowed Natasha to hop off the back, and stepped off, throwing down the kickstand and yanking off his helmet in one fluid motion.
    â€œNick!” he shouted up to the pilot, an old friend from other operations. “Are you going to get me the hell out of this godforsaken paradise?”
    â€œBefore you can say ‘piña colada,’” Nick responded. “Now, get your sorry ass up here before I have to take off without you.”
    Tom was halfway up the gangway, and Natasha was already strapped into her seat, when his cell phone rang. “Go,” he told her.
    â€œTom, it’s George,” he heard. “Did I catch you in time?”
    â€œIn time for what? We’re taxiing down the runway in about eight seconds,” Tom said.
    â€œStop! Don’t leave the island,” George insisted. His voice held a desperate urgency. “Loki is there. He found out what you were doing and where you are, and he’s on the island now. You can’t leave there—you’ve got to neutralize him first.”
    â€œWhat?” He grabbed Nick’s arm, stopping him from pulling the air lock closed. “Loki is here?”
    Natasha leapt from her seat, already prepared for the change of plans.
    â€œHe’s there,” George repeated. “At the estate on the south fork of the island—I’ve sent the address to your Blackberry.”
    Tom looked at the e-mail and noted the location.
    â€œWhat about Gaia?” Tom asked. “Please tell me she’s still okay. George?”
    But the phone was cutting out. He could only make out every other word George was saying.
    â€œGeorge! Is Gaia safe?”
    The phone’s connection was failing. The last thing he heard was George saying, “Good-bye, old friend. Just go.”
    Something felt wrong. Very wrong. There must have been a leak the size of the Holland Tunnel within the operation. How could Loki have found him so quickly?
    â€œWe’ve got to go,” he said. “Or I should say, I have to go. Natasha, Nick can take you back to New York right now.”
    â€œNick can take himself back to New York,” Natasha responded. “I’m going with you.”
    Tom’s nagging misgivings were shoved unceremoniously to the back of his mind. He had no time to wonder what was going on. He was an agent, and it was time to follow instructions. And never had he so looked forward to an assignment. Neutralize Loki? The phrase sounded so neat and polite. As he fired up the Harley again and peeled out on the tarmac, Tom could practically feel his brother’s throat beneath his ever-tightening fingers.

The Blue