Postcards From Rio. Tina Beckett

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Clare, I wish we were alone right now,’ he said softly.

      She snapped her eyes from him and glanced at Becky, who was standing tensely by the window. Perhaps as a reaction to the danger they were in, Clare could recall clearly events from the past, and she pictured her sister lying in a hospital bed, attached to numerous tubes and wires. It was a miracle that Becky had survived the aggressive form of leukaemia she’d contracted as a child, and Clare was determined her sister’s life would not be cut short by a gang of despicable criminals.

      Last night, a mixture of fear and exhaustion had played havoc with her emotions and led her to succumb to her desire for Diego. For a few blissful hours in his arms she had been distracted from the reason she had come to Brazil, but from now on she must focus on getting her sister to safety. ‘All I wish is that the kidnappers would release us so that my sister and I can go home to our parents,’ she said tautly.

      Diego frowned. ‘One thing I don’t understand is why your family sent you to Brazil to pay the ransom money to the kidnappers. They must have realised the danger you would be in.’

      ‘My father couldn’t come because he is caring for my mother who is seriously ill, and I offered to rescue my sister. Dad must be frantic with worry about Becky.’

      ‘I’m sure your father is worried about both of you.’ Diego felt a flare of anger towards Clare’s parents for the way they had allowed her to feel less loved than her sister. He hoped the Marchants realised how incredibly courageous their older daughter was.

      His phone rang and he had a brief conversation in Portuguese. ‘Your wish is about to be granted,’ he told Clare. ‘The plane that will take us to Manaus has landed at Torrente airport.’

      * * *

      It was not a proper airport, just a single runway at the edge of the town, surrounded by dense jungle. As the Jeep driven by Enzo pulled up next to a hangar, Clare saw a sleek private jet sitting on the runway with its engines running. She gripped Becky’s hand. ‘In a couple of minutes we will be on that plane and your ordeal will be over.’

      Becky was white-faced and close to hysteria. ‘Something is going to go wrong; I know it is.’

      Clare looked at Diego. ‘What are we waiting for? I thought the arrangement was for us to board the plane before you give the diamond to Rigo.’

      ‘Rigo got here before us,’ he said tensely. ‘He’s already on the jet. The pilot messaged me to say he’s been forced to hand over the diamond.’

      ‘Then we need to get on the jet and be ready to leave.’ Clare gave a startled cry when Diego caught hold of her arm and pulled her close to him.

      ‘I want you and Becky to get on to the plane that you can see at the far end of the runway.’

      Clare stared in the direction he was pointing and frowned. ‘Does it even fly? It looks like a plane from the Second World War.’

      ‘It’s a Dakota transport plane which regularly brings supplies to Torrente from Manaus. The pilot is expecting us. Tell him to be ready to take off as soon as I get on board.’

      ‘But why can’t we leave on the jet?’

      Over Clare’s shoulder, Diego watched Rigo walk across the runway and get into a car, leaving behind a group of armed men. They’re unlikely to be waiting to welcome the Marchant sisters on to the jet, he thought cynically. The situation was becoming more dangerous by the minute and there was no time to explain things to Clare. He looked into her wide blue eyes and saw her fear that she was trying to hide. For reasons he couldn’t explain he felt a peculiar tugging sensation in his heart. ‘You have to trust me,’ he said gruffly. He pushed her towards the Dakota. ‘Go. Now.’

      * * *

      You have to trust me.

      Diego’s words replayed in Clare’s head as she peered through the plane’s window, hoping to catch sight of him in the deepening twilight. She could not think clearly above the roar of the Dakota’s engines and the sound of Becky crying. ‘We have to go, we have to go,’ her sister sobbed. ‘Please, Clare, tell the pilot to take off before the kidnappers come for us.’

      ‘We must wait for Diego. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’

      Where was he? Clare’s heart leapt when she saw him by the hangar. But he wasn’t alone. Shock jolted through her when she recognised that the man Diego was talking to was one of the kidnappers who had been with Enzo when she had been taken from the cave in the rainforest. In disbelief she watched Diego and the kidnapper briefly hug each other before the two men started to run towards the plane.

      Becky was still crying. ‘Please, Clare, let’s go now.’

      Clare had a split second to make a decision. Should she tell the pilot to take off, which would ensure her sister’s safety? Or should she wait for Diego to board the plane with one of the kidnappers? She felt sick. Was Diego somehow involved with Rigo and his criminal gang?

      With a flash of clarity she understood that he must have pretended to make a deal with the drugs lord to buy her freedom. Of course he wouldn’t have given away a diamond worth a million dollars to save her. She had been so stupid to have been blinded by his handsome face and laid-back, sexy charm.

      ‘Sit down and fasten your seat belt,’ she ordered Becky as she ran to the front of the plane and spoke to the pilot. ‘We’re ready to take off, right now.’

      * * *

      Back on the ground, Diego had breathed easier once he’d watched Clare and Becky board the Dakota. He was fairly certain none of Rigo’s men had seen them climb into the transport plane. With luck he would be able to join the girls without being seen and the plane would take off from the airstrip before the gang members realised that their quarry had escaped.

      He’d guessed that Rigo had planned to have the three of them killed. The time he’d spent in prison had taught him how ruthless criminals’ minds worked, and Rigo was more ruthless than most. He hoped the gathering dusk would hide him as he stepped out from the doorway of the hangar, but a voice speaking in Portuguese stopped him.

      ‘Not so fast. Put your hands in the air.’

      Slowly, Diego turned around and did a double take as he recognised a face from the past. ‘Miguel?’

      ‘Santa Mãe! Diego, is it really you?’ The other man lowered his gun. ‘The last time I saw you was in prison.’

      ‘Nearly twenty years ago.’ Diego pictured two teenage boys being escorted by prison guards to an overcrowded cell, hearing the taunts from the other prisoners, terrified of what would happen to them.

      ‘You saved my life,’ Miguel said hoarsely, ‘and had your ear cut off by the other prisoners as punishment for protecting me. I’ve never forgotten.’

      Nor had Diego forgotten, despite trying to block out the memories of hell. Like him, Miguel had been on remand and awaiting trial to prove he was innocent of the crime he had been accused of. ‘Why are you working for a shit like Rigo?’

      Miguel shook his head. ‘He threatened my family. But my parents are both dead now and I don’t care if Rigo kills me for helping you to escape. I owe you, my friend.’

      ‘Rigo СКАЧАТЬ