Arrested
McCall slept only for an hour before he jerked awake. Whether it was instinct o training, he didn't know; but he never ignored the imperative warning call. He awoke to full awareness of his surroundings, what he was doing, and why. The throbbing head pain had receded to a dull ache, even though Jake had shaken him awake twice to ask what day it was. He didn't have a concussion then; at least not one strong enough to keep him down.
Well, Jake hadn't ditched him. A moment's check of the sun's position told him how long he'd slept before he checked his watch, and their current direction. They were heading for Auckland, or somewhere nearby.
A soft pulling feeling at his ear made him start. Jake had put a headset on him while he slept, cutting off noise – how had he done that without arousing his fight instinct? – and now Jake turned on the sound to speak to him. "So prince Charming awakes too soon. You don't get enough sleep, McCall."
"Habit." McCall rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck to clear his head. "I can't remember sleeping a full night through."
"Ever?" Jake sounded incredulous.
He shrugged. "Not that I can remember." He'd always slept like a cat, with one eye open. When he was little, looking out that his dad didn't fall on him in stupor or belt him unawares and later, hoping Mom would come back for him. Hopes and fears so tightly interwoven he no longer knew how to separate the two, and trusted neither. "Just weird, I guess."
"I suppose so. By the way, McCall would you consider switching sides for a million dollars? Would you help me get away from your people then?"
The question startled McCall – shook him to his core, was it confirmation of who he was... confirmation he was no longer sure he wanted to have? Why did Jake choose now to say it? Because he wanted that damned distance put back between them? Did he regret single kiss so much that he had to remind him that he was the operative, and his was the subject? "How does a single father on the run get that kind of money? How could someone who lives as modestly offer that kind of bribe?"
With the last word, Jake flinched. "For my son." His voice was flat. "For Danny." Jake turned to him, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "Don't make Danny go back to his father. He'd eat my son alive."
Hate slammed into his soul. Dear God, gentle, stammering Danny being left in Falcone's tender mercies. That beautiful, shy little kid would turn into a damn hit man before he turned ten. No wonder Jake was going out on a cracked and shaking limb. Any other parent would. Well, maybe not his, but Jake loved his son. "You don't care for yourself?" McCall asked. "You know what he'll do to you if he gets you."
A low sound, like a ripping shudder, tore from Jake's throat. As Jake turned back to the cockpit, his hands held on to the controls like a lifeline as he dragged in breath after shaking breath. His face, so pure and lovely had the faint creamy-grass hue of someone about to throw up.
Jake didn't have to answer he that. Those few seconds had been more than enough.
He hated to push Jake, but he had little choice. He had to know where he was coming from – where he was going. "Is it his money you're offering, or yours?"
Silence greeted the question, and he heard his voice, rough and demanding. "Come on Jake, you've got to trust someone!"
Jake reestablished control. His words were measured. "The only two people I ever trusted with my or Danny's are dead."
"How?" McCall asked. "How did they die?"
Jake turned back, his eyes blazing. "A chopper is following us –sent by you – and you're upset because I don't give you irrelevant information about a dead man that was in my life? Oh, poor McCall. Shall I just lay myself and Danny down on the ground to play dead for your boss while I'm at it?"
McCall tried to thud a fist against his thigh, but the arm fell back. Damn it, how could he tell Jake the whole truth? It put his whole career, everything he had worked for the past ten years, on the line. It compromised the mission and put him and the whole Nighthawk team at risk.
And in telling Jake, you could kill him – and Danny. He loves that kid more than he'll ever love any person.
"By the way, I haven't seen your friends yet," He remarked casually. "Does that mean they're damn good at their job or that you, the perfect watchman, fell asleep before you could notify them of our direction?"
Yeah, Jake's putting distance between us all right – and it's deliberate. The only thing McCall didn't know was why and why now?
He didn't ask any more questions. What was the point? The stakes were too high for the both of them, and their cross-examinations were fruitless, like a pair of roller coasters on a one-railed collision course, slamming against each other in painful carnage but still going nowhere. He took careful note of the direction and the local landmarks.
Moments later, pretending to look out the window, he took his pager out of its waterproof cover. Pressing the silent option and keeping it well beneath Jake's line of view, he used his left hand to press the buttons. "Injured, request backup, stat. With subject in seaplane, WSW. Alpha 849Y8. Expect airstrip outside Auckland to collect son. Subject will leave me behind. Repeat subject plans to escape."
His gut clenched before he pressed send.
Moments later, he got a silent reply. "Roger. Five miles back and following. Start tracking device."
He felt sick with betrayal – Jake hadn't spoken a word to him, and though he had made no promises, they both knew, understood the unspoken accord that Jake had hoped for. But still, he pressed the GPS-tracking button on his pager. Even though he knew all he was doing was he dead level best to protect Jake and Danny, he still felt like a traitor.
And with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew Jake would never forgive him for what he'd just done.
The Nighthawks chopper reached the small airstrip northwest of Auckland before they did; and though Jake half expected it to be there, the betrayal burned right to his gut.
"Congratulations, McCall. Your people won the race." Jake put no inflections in his tone. "World peace wins over individual rights and my son and I become collateral damage in your righteous war. I hope you can live with what you've done – and what it will do to Danny."
McCall unlocked his seat belt. "Where is Danny? I thought Donna would be here by now. Isn't that what you worked out with your um-and-ah, hand signing Morse code communication last night?"
"Damn you, McCall." Jake whispered, shaking. "You don't what you've done. It's all about you. You and your save-the-world friends don't care if my son and I live or die."
McCall turned to him, the wind-blasted darkness of his soul hitting him from his eyes. "Clever, self reliant Jake, always so sure you're right. Maybe it's you who don't know what you're doing. You think you've outwitted Falcone all these years? You think his only obsession was with you, the perfect Jake? Well, think again, baby, seems like he's one-obsession-at-a-time kind of guy. The reason you've been left alone was because he had another woman on his mind, he spent five years chasing her. Seems like he was willing to let you keep Danny if he could have her. He talked of having a normal with her. But when Falcone went too far, Verity realized that she needed help. She didn't try to get away on her own. She trusted us to help her, and help her we did. That was when Falcone turned back to finding you and Danny."
"And you think his wanting another woman would bother me? The only part of his chasing the poor woman that upsets me is the empathy I feel for her. I'm glad she got away. What makes you think you know anything about me?"
McCall blanked out. "Nothing. Nothing at all." McCall opened the passenger door and vaulted out in a smooth movement. "You'd better get that evidence on Falcone ready, because you just told me who you are – and this time, I did tape it."
Jake gasped. McCall gave an awry smile.
"My boss will have a search warrant on him, and an operative ready to search you. Get your bags out, baby. You just blew it. Big time."
Jake watched McCall greet his boss with a nod, and hand over the recording machine, wanting to scream. Yeah, he had blown it alright. It was too late now.
A dark sedan came down the runway, lights off and travelling with quiet a speed. The car pulled up beside the seaplane, and Donna's worried face appeared at the darkened window.
"It's alright, Donna. Thank you so much for your help." With a tired sigh, Jake hitched the backpack on his shoulder, lifted the suitcase in his hand and managed to get to the ground. He put them down carefully before climbing back to grab Danny's sleeping puppy from his seat.
"What's happening, Jake?" Donna whispered, her frantic gaze taking in a barefoot, mussed McCall talking to the group of people in anonymous clothes and hard boots.
Jake shrugged. "I think I'm about to be arrested."
Donna gasped and laid a hand on his arm. "May I ask...?"
Jake spoke loud enough for all of them to hear. "My guess is for being an illegal immigrant – charges that they'll offer to drop as soon as I give them what they want. That's how people like this do business. No honesty or honour." He leaned down and kissed Donna's cheek. "You've been a good friend, Donna – the best. If I get through this..."
"You will." Donna all but growled, her soft blue eyes shooting fierce sparks in McCall's direction, "or there will be hell to pay. Absolute and extreme public hell for all concerned."
Jake bit his lip. It had been long since someone had cared with such utter unquestioning faith. "Thank you." He whispered again. "Go, Donna. You know nothing about me from thus moment – it's safer." Jake turned to the car to take a sleep Danny out.
McCall had beaten him to it, he was lifting Danny up in those strong arms... and though he knew McCall was only helping, Jake's fury, barely contained until now, boiled over. "Don't touch my son."
The freezing scorn in his voice got to McCall. McCall wheeled around to face him, his eyes blistering, meeting his ice with heat of disbelieving contempt. "Do you think I will hurt him?"
"When it comes to you, I don't think. I don't want to know." He moved fast and snatched Danny from McCall's arms. "Don't touch my things." He added as McCall started slinging Danny's backpack onto his shoulder. "I don't need your help."
McCall froze in place, his face a mask of barely contained fury to match his own. "What the hell do you need, Jake?"
He met McCall's gaze. Wanting to punch him in the face. "Nothing. I don't want anything from you."
A tall, rugged blond man who looked to be in his early forties was waiting right outside – and another man. A man whose appearance had been subtly altered to look like his. The man was wearing similar clothing, the unusual sweater bought from the same store. The man would pass for him close-up, but he could lead anyone following them on a wild goose chase.
Were they going to replace him for Falcone to follow? Or was he going to conveniently disappear?
The intensely handsome blond man spoke, in a slow, sexy Southern drawl that washed over Jake's turbulent emotions. "Hello, Mr. Silver. My name is..."
It's not your real name, so don't bother." Jake kept walking toward the plane he had ready. "You are McCall's boss. Excuse me, but unless you have a warrant for my arrest..."
The man produced a piece of paper without a word, holding it before his eyes, since his hands were full.
He felt the blood drain from his face. "So I suffer arrest for being an illegal immigrants or go with you. And of course, you put us into protective custody, separating me from my son until I give you whatever it is you want." Where Danny's father will get us with his crooked cops and his millions of dollars. "I have no choice, then – but don't rejoice, because you won't get a damn thing from me." Shaking with terrified fury, Jake refused to look McCall's way, but started defiantly at his boss. "God help you if anything you do ends up hurting my son."
"We're here to help you." McCall's voice came from behind him, low and fierce. "You have to..."
"I don't have the least interest in anything you say." Jake kept his gaze trained on the blond man. "I suppose there's no use in saying this, but I don't want McCall near my son. I'm sure you have a whatever-it-takes credo, but I have to pick up the pieces of my son's broken heart after you all go – if we're still alive. And my son's started hoping that he could have another father."
Behind him, Jake felt McCall flinch at his words; but no satisfaction filled him, just an emptiness of heart. Maybe he had no choice but to tell his superiors, but he had destroyed his one chance at anonymity. With his gun-toting circus of people around him, He had no chance of getting Danny out of New Zealand unnoticed. Somebody would see them – someone who needed money – and Danny's father would know in which direction they had gone before long. His kind of money precluded silence or loyalty or trust.
"Flipper, take the other plane – the one Mr. Silver has. Take Javier and go to the South island. From there, separate and find your ways to the arranged checkpoint by noon tomorrow."
"Obviously the blond man's word was law in this spy group. McCall and the man that dressed up like Jake moved without argument to the plane.
"You'll need these." Jake held out a set of keys. "And I'll have to unlock the system for you before you can start the engine."
"Go ahead." McCall said curtly without turning around. McCall leaned against the plane with a hand, his back turned to him, as stiff and cold as the morning slowly coming to life.
The blond man took a still-sleeping Danny from his arms and walked over to the DC-10 primed and ready behind him.
Jake unlocked the system of his plane with complicated setting of five keys – the right one in the right groove the first time, or the computerized system would fail. Then he turned away. "You can fly normally now. There's no trick to taking off or landing. If you fly at high enough altitude you shouldn't be seen, but there's a system to disable any unofficial tracking. Please leave the plane in a hangar somewhere and bring me back my keys. I hope your group can arrange to have it flown to wherever I'll be living for the time being?"
"Of course." McCall turned to him then, his eyes burned into his as he spoke. "I'd have died to save you, Jake, do you know that? Shows what a jerk I am. I'd have done anything to keep you and Danny safe. But you're running again. You'll ruin your son's life, cheat him of a real life so that you can stay a coward, safe and never trusting anyone. Are you willing to spend the rest of your life alone?"
McCall had no idea of the chord he had just struck. "Do you" Jake said softly. "Do you rescue people because they need it or because you need to prove to Mommy that he was wrong to leave you all those years?"
McCall flinched, but he didn't answer him. He stood tense and silent watching Jake with his arms folded and all man.
"I don't want to do this Brendan. But it's for you. I'm keeping you safe..."
"Goodbye, McCall. Danny and I will see you at the checkpoint tomorrow I gather."
By what miracle had his voice come out sounding so unmoved?
Jake walked back to the larger DC-10 waiting for him without looking back.
"It's just for your safety Brendan. It's for your safety. You don't know what Falcone will do to you if he suspected anything between us."
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