against the sunlight and continued his stumbled walk through the forest once he was free of the tunnel. It wouldn’t take long for Cooper and the rest of them to realize what had happened. He had to keep moving. The thick trees overhead blocked the sight of the chopper humming through the air, but Dylan still heard the rotating blades wane above.
The trucks they’d arrived in were still nestled under the cover of the large tree where they’d left them, and Dylan ripped the tarp off and climbed into the driver’s seat. His body started to feel cold, and he looked to see that the bloodstain had grown from his trapezius to cover half his chest. He managed to stretch his fingers, curling them in limited mobility, but the rest of the arm was useless. Using his good arm, Dylan pried open the dash underneath the truck and yanked the wires down. He cut the ends off two wires and peeled back the wax. He twisted the pieces of copper together then jammed his knife into the ignition and turned the engine over.
The V8 roared to life, and Dylan engaged the four-wheel drive and tore off through the woods, careening around trees and boulders, doing his best to remember the way out. Each bounce of the truck sent a jolt of pain into Dylan’s shoulder, but he didn’t dare slow his pace.
The blacktop of the road came into view, and Dylan jammed the accelerator down, peeling out on the pavement. The speedometer tipped sixty then seventy once he was on the smooth pavement. Keeping the dangerous speeds and balancing the wheel with his knees, he reached for the phone that was buzzing in his pocket. He knew who it was before he even looked at the screen.
“Here’s the deal,” Dylan said, sandwiching the phone between his cheek and neck while driving. “You get your computer chips when I get my son, and if he’s in any worse shape than the last time I saw him, then the deal is off. There is no other alternative, there is no other deal, this is it. Take it or leave it.”
The only response was the rumble of the truck’s engine as Dylan drove. The silence that filled his ear lingered longer than he would have liked. He knew Perry would play on his relationship with his son. It was what he’d been doing since the very beginning. The only difference now was Dylan had something that Perry wanted equally badly.
“A bold move, Dylan,” Perry replied. “You do understand that I still have control over Homeland operations, and my people will be able to track you down. Not to mention my Egyptian friends. You really think you can hide? Did you think this would work?”
“I’ll call you with the details of the exchange. Until then, not a hair on my son’s head is harmed, understand? And you better keep this number. I’ll be calling you from a different phone next time you hear from me.” Dylan chucked the phone out the window, and it crashed to the road, breaking and snapping in half.
There wasn’t any turning back now. Dylan had set the wheels into motion. He was on his own. No Cooper. No Perry. Just him and Mark and the computer chips for nuclear missiles in the bag sitting on the passenger seat.
Chapter 8
Cooper received the call from Moringer while she sat with the strike team on the mountain road where Dylan was meant to lead Perry and his men after they had the computer chips. For a moment, she thought she misheard him when he spoke, but once the words sank in, she kicked the dirt and cursed a violent storm under her breath.
They tried catching up to Dylan and tracked the phone that Perry had given him, but all it did was lead them to the smashed remnants of the mobile. There was no doubt that Homeland, the CIA, and the FBI now had his picture up on any and all major news networks, citing Dylan as an accomplice in the attacks that had happened around the country. And with that, Moringer couldn’t risk Cooper coming in until they had some sort of resolution. Moringer told her to stay low, off grid, and he'd contact her when
The trucks they’d arrived in were still nestled under the cover of the large tree where they’d left them, and Dylan ripped the tarp off and climbed into the driver’s seat. His body started to feel cold, and he looked to see that the bloodstain had grown from his trapezius to cover half his chest. He managed to stretch his fingers, curling them in limited mobility, but the rest of the arm was useless. Using his good arm, Dylan pried open the dash underneath the truck and yanked the wires down. He cut the ends off two wires and peeled back the wax. He twisted the pieces of copper together then jammed his knife into the ignition and turned the engine over.
The V8 roared to life, and Dylan engaged the four-wheel drive and tore off through the woods, careening around trees and boulders, doing his best to remember the way out. Each bounce of the truck sent a jolt of pain into Dylan’s shoulder, but he didn’t dare slow his pace.
The blacktop of the road came into view, and Dylan jammed the accelerator down, peeling out on the pavement. The speedometer tipped sixty then seventy once he was on the smooth pavement. Keeping the dangerous speeds and balancing the wheel with his knees, he reached for the phone that was buzzing in his pocket. He knew who it was before he even looked at the screen.
“Here’s the deal,” Dylan said, sandwiching the phone between his cheek and neck while driving. “You get your computer chips when I get my son, and if he’s in any worse shape than the last time I saw him, then the deal is off. There is no other alternative, there is no other deal, this is it. Take it or leave it.”
The only response was the rumble of the truck’s engine as Dylan drove. The silence that filled his ear lingered longer than he would have liked. He knew Perry would play on his relationship with his son. It was what he’d been doing since the very beginning. The only difference now was Dylan had something that Perry wanted equally badly.
“A bold move, Dylan,” Perry replied. “You do understand that I still have control over Homeland operations, and my people will be able to track you down. Not to mention my Egyptian friends. You really think you can hide? Did you think this would work?”
“I’ll call you with the details of the exchange. Until then, not a hair on my son’s head is harmed, understand? And you better keep this number. I’ll be calling you from a different phone next time you hear from me.” Dylan chucked the phone out the window, and it crashed to the road, breaking and snapping in half.
There wasn’t any turning back now. Dylan had set the wheels into motion. He was on his own. No Cooper. No Perry. Just him and Mark and the computer chips for nuclear missiles in the bag sitting on the passenger seat.
Chapter 8
Cooper received the call from Moringer while she sat with the strike team on the mountain road where Dylan was meant to lead Perry and his men after they had the computer chips. For a moment, she thought she misheard him when he spoke, but once the words sank in, she kicked the dirt and cursed a violent storm under her breath.
They tried catching up to Dylan and tracked the phone that Perry had given him, but all it did was lead them to the smashed remnants of the mobile. There was no doubt that Homeland, the CIA, and the FBI now had his picture up on any and all major news networks, citing Dylan as an accomplice in the attacks that had happened around the country. And with that, Moringer couldn’t risk Cooper coming in until they had some sort of resolution. Moringer told her to stay low, off grid, and he'd contact her when
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