by Jodie Bailey
The blunt words rolled in her stomach like rough turbulence. Trooper Will Stryker was a man with high walls, ones no one but God could ever break down. She’d be praying that—
A low growl rolled between them, and Scout stood, staring into the night.
Will’s gaze followed the border collie’s, and he watched the darkness intently.
“What’s wrong?” Jasmine’s radar started to ping. They’d seen something. Something neither of them liked.
But he merely shook his head. “Nothing. Probably an animal. I’m going to go take a look around just to be sure.” He looked at Scout and pointed to Jasmine. “Stay. Guard.”
Without waiting for an answer from Jasmine, he jumped down from the plane. “Close the door. Get some sleep. I’ll be back in a little while.”
She wanted to argue, to ask where he was going, but something in his tone told her she’d better do as he said. That same gut feeling also said he wasn’t telling her the whole truth.
Closing the door, Jasmine crept back to her sleeping bag and sat with her back against the wall.
A few feet away, Scout sat with his back to her, watching the door.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, closed her eyes and prayed.
* * *
As soon as Jasmine secured the door, Will drew his pistol, confident Scout would alert him should anyone try to get into the plane. Jasmine was in good hands with the best partner in the world.
Sure, he hadn’t told her the whole truth, but there was no need to frighten her unnecessarily when she was already on edge. Likely whatever Scout had scented and alerted to was a bear or a moose, but he couldn’t take that chance. The possibility that her plane had been tampered with meant someone might have set the entire thing up to leave them vulnerable to attack on the open frontier.
And it was likely because of him. He’d boarded her plane at Nemeti and was with her at Landsher. It was a high probability the bad guys knew he was looking for them and would do whatever it took to shut him down. He should have seen this coming.
But he’d been so certain Jasmine was guilty that he hadn’t thought past taking her into custody. He dragged his hand down his face. His teammate Helena Maddox was right. It was possible his overly suspicious nature had landed him, his partner and Jasmine in deep trouble.
Will wiped a bead of sweat off his temple, hating himself for it. He’d been a police officer for years and had had his share of time on the Alaskan frontier but tonight, even with the northern lights dancing overhead, this felt a whole lot like his time in Afghanistan. The mountain before him, unseen assailants around him... Some memories were best left in the past.
He scanned the side of the mountain then surveyed the flat land from the plane to the horizon as the lights in the sky shifted the shadows on the ground. While beautiful, the depth of the lights on the frontier, where the world was deathly silent, lent an unearthly feeling to the darkness, as though he watched from inside a twisted nightmare.
Nothing moved. If Scout hadn’t alerted, Will would think he’d dreamed the whole thing.
Holstering his sidearm, he scrubbed his face with both hands. No doubt he was exhausted, but sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon. Might as well patrol the area. Maybe if he convinced himself all was well, his mind would shut down and let him rest.
Keeping his hand on the grip of his holstered sidearm, he made a slow circuit around the plane, then eyed the flat frontier once again. There was still no motion.
Which, come to think of it, was kind of strange. Shouldn’t there be night creatures roaming around? Maybe their presence and the hulk of the plane was keeping them at bay, but still...it seemed odd.
It also made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. At least overseas or when he was in the field with his team, there were other sets of eyes and more people to see what he couldn’t. Right now, it was only him. And he was very capable of missing something.
Feeling as though a thousand eyes watched him, Will walked toward the slope of the mountain away from the plane, wishing he’d grabbed his flashlight, but he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. Jasmine had gotten to him earlier. Had him talking about things he never talked about. It had to have been the aurora and the moment. He was done with relationships. He sure wasn’t feeling things for a woman who, just over twelve hours ago, had been his prime suspect.
And he needed to get his head back into the game, before he missed something that got one or both of them hurt.
A soft rustle to his right barely registered before a shadow plowed into him. Will’s back crashed into the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. He struggled to catch his breath. Tried to see past the darkness pounding in his eyes. Fought against the weight of a creature he couldn’t identify.
Until hands wrapped around his neck.
This was no creature. It was a human. And whoever it was had Will down for the count.
Muscle memory and training rushed through him. Rather than try to dislodge the vise around his neck, Will brought his hands up between his assailant’s arms and went for the head. Pressing his palms against the side of his attacker’s head, he pressed his thumbs straight into where the eyeballs should be.
An unintelligible growl and a string of muttered curses burnt the air around him. The pressure around his neck eased.
That split second taste of freedom was all he needed. Will gripped his assailant’s right arm, then shoved the man’s leg back with his elbow, trapping his ankle in his bent knee. Shifting his grip, he grabbed the man’s shirt near the shoulder and shoved his right foot against the ground, going into a roll that pitched the man off him.
With a grunt, the attacker rolled away and hopped to his feet, already on the run. The guy was like a ninja—wiry, nimble and fast.
Will scrambled up as well, reaching for his sidearm. He’d take this perp into custody and somehow keep him restrained until backup could get here. He took off in pursuit, but didn’t get far before he stumbled to a stop. The guy was outpacing him, and he didn’t dare get too far from the plane. This could all be a ruse to lure him away from Jasmine or into a trap. Alone, he couldn’t do anything more than let this man get away.
Biting back a frustrated shout, Will ran back to the plane. If nothing else, he could call for backup on the sat phone, although rounding up a helicopter and getting it here at this time of night when no one was injured would likely be a long shot.
In the distance, almost too faint to hear, the sound of an engine roared to life and quickly faded. Likely a four-wheeler.
Either way, the guy was gone.
And all Will had was proof that someone was out to kill him.
SIX
Jasmine sat on the ground near the Twin Otter and let the morning sun warm her in the cool air. On the far side of the plane, Jerry Pace had just opened the engine cover. Although Jasmine had looked over the engine the evening before, she kept her distance now, letting the man work, waiting to see if he confirmed what she’d seen or if he had a good chuckle at her paranoia.
On the far side of the plane, Will stood with Scout at his feet, eyeing his phone. He’d been oddly preoccupied all morning and now he hadn’t moved for several minutes, likely reading email or texting with whoever called the shots on his team. The night before, he’d crept into the plane without saying a word to her, retrieved Scout and his backpack, and had never come back. Likely he’d felt safer watching from outside.
Closing her eyes, Jasmine turned her face to the sun, relishing a few moments to herself. The night had been long, especially after his antsy departure, but she’d managed a couple of hours of sleep. It had better be enough to get her through this day and whatever it might have in store. Lord, let it be smooth air and no more surprises.
Most of her sleepless night had been spent in deep conversation with God about Will. The fact that he knew who she really was had flipped h
er thoughts around and made her feel like she was two different people. The old and the new layered onto each other in ways they hadn’t since she’d first entered the program.
The feeling had driven her into some hard-core prayer during the dark night hours. Refuge could be found only in God. And she sure was glad He listened to her.
A shadow darkened the sunlight on her face, and Jasmine eased her eyes open.
“You’ve got biscuit crumbs on your chin.” As he settled to the ground a few feet away from her, Will pointed at her face. “And I’ve seen ranger students fresh out of the field who ate slower than you just did.”
Quirking a smile, Jasmine swiped at her chin, but she didn’t have a defense for his comment. She knew she’d put away that ham biscuit quickly, but it was way better than the freeze-dried eggs that were in her emergency stash. “Jerry and his wife cure their own pork. If the man says he’s bringing me a biscuit, I eat it quick, before somebody comes tearing out of the wilderness to rip that beauty from my hands.” When he had arrived not long after sunrise, in the small Piper Archer he liked to fly, he’d handed her a small cooler of still-warm ham biscuits and a thermos of hot coffee.
Jasmine had wanted to kiss the man on the cheek.
But the older mechanic would never go for that. She settled for a hearty thank you while she hugged the cooler to her chest before she let him get to his work. Jerry liked to act gruff, but his concern for her welfare made his tender heart shine bright.
Will cleared his throat and looked toward the low mountain slope, an odd look on his face, but then he smiled. “I didn’t say the food wasn’t good. Just that you ate it fast.” He took a swig of coffee from one of the metal camping cups Jerry had brought along. “And truth be told, I’d arm wrestle you for the last one if I wasn’t such a gentleman. I’m guessing Jerry’s wife makes her own biscuits, too?”
“She does. And there’s no need to compete. There are still a couple left. Jerry doesn’t believe in skimping when it comes to food.” Jasmine kept her eyes on the shiny tinfoil of her second biscuit as she unwrapped it. In the morning light, Will’s dark hair held auburn highlights that she hadn’t noticed before. Something about noticing them made her feel kind of jittery in her stomach. They’d said a lot of things to each other the night before, or at least Will had. Looking at him now—it was like looking at a stranger who she knew too much about.
Or at least looking at someone who ought to be a stranger but wasn’t. Their long night watching the aurora and talking had shifted the dynamic between them.
Knowing about his mother and his ex-girlfriend made him more real somehow, a man with feelings instead of an authority figure in a blue uniform. He’d endured a lot of pain in his life, and a wounded heart beat beneath the navy coat he wore to ward off the morning’s chill.
A heart that needed to heal.
Swallowing hard, Jasmine forcibly tamped down her misfiring emotions. Getting swept up in the fantasy of what it would be like to claim the heart of a man like Will Stryker was just borrowing trouble. She wasn’t falling for anybody, not in her situation. From any angle, he represented heartache she definitely didn’t need.
She sighed. Part of all this self-awareness meant finding a neutral conversation. “You get all caught up on your emails over there?”
“Emails?” Will unwrapped the biscuit he’d grabbed and looked at her with an arched eyebrow before he nodded. “On my phone just now? That wasn’t an email. I was reading the devotion I read every morning. It’s the time I set aside for God, and I wasn’t going to miss it.”
“An appointment with God?”
“Something like that.”
Jasmine nodded. She typically did her Bible study first thing in the mornings and spent some time in prayer, but her day was sprinkled with prayer constantly. She assumed Will’s was, too.
She’d just taken another bite of biscuit and was savoring the salty ham when Jerry walked over and squatted by her feet. He shoved the toe of her hiking boot with a wrench. “You were right.”
Jasmine swallowed quickly, almost choked on a biscuit crumb and had to swig hot coffee before she could answer. With the tears of a burned tongue leaking from the corners of her eyes, she raised an eyebrow. “Right about what?” But even as she said it, she knew.
And she wished she hadn’t reached for that second biscuit.
“That fuel line didn’t rupture naturally. It’s a small cut, not enough to leak out all your fuel at once or burst your line, but enough to drip out what you’d need to make it back home. There’s a matching cut in the line on the other engine, too. Both of your tanks are as close to empty as they can get.”
Closing her eyes, Jasmine set the biscuit on the ground by her hip. She’d like to rewind thirty seconds, before Jerry had confirmed her worst nightmare.
Beside her, Will moved closer. “Sabotage?” His normally deep voice was gravelly with something Jasmine didn’t want to acknowledge. It sounded too much like danger...
And like the end of Jasmine Jefferson.
When she opened her eyes, Jerry was watching her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Tossing her biscuit into the cooler, she stood and motioned for the older man to follow her to the plane, away from Will.
He got up and trailed behind them anyway, with Scout close at his heel.
When they reached the plane, she rested a hand on the cold metal next to the open engine. “Why didn’t my fuel gauge register the decrease?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry shoved his cap back and scratched his forehead. His weathered face furrowed into deep rows. “I could tell you maybe it was a bad line with a manufacturing defect and your fuel gauge went on the fritz coincidentally at the same time as your radio, but I don’t believe in coincidence. We replaced the fuel line just a couple weeks ago. I’d have noticed a cut, even one that small, and it would have caused a problem before today if I hadn’t.”
“So the fuel gauge was tampered with as well?” Will looked at the engine as though he understood what he was seeing, but Jasmine guessed he had little idea about the inner workings of a plane engine.
Not that she could do much more than identify the parts herself.
Jerry nodded. “Gas gauges work because there’s a float that goes up and down with the gas in the tank. It’s hooked to a resistor that sends an electrical impulse from—” He scratched his chin. “Know what? You don’t need to know all that. But I’m guessing that when I get this plane back to the hangar, I’m going to find that there’s something interesting going on between the resistor and the gauges. Or between the ball and the resistor.”
Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Jasmine walked away from the Twin Otter. The plane she’d depended on for two years. She’d flown the others in the small fleet, but this aircraft was the one she loved to pilot the most.
Now it, and maybe someone close to her, had betrayed her.
She drew her lips between her teeth and clamped down. Hard.
Will approached and rested a hand on her back. The move seemed to be instinctual, because his gaze never left Jerry. The lines around his eyes deepened.
Scout moved as well, walking around from Will’s left to squeeze between them and lean against Jasmine’s leg.
She crouched and petted the collie from his ears down his back, over and over, seeking calm, praying words she couldn’t articulate but knew God could understand.
Will stepped closer to Jerry. “Was the plane sabotaged?” He repeated his earlier question, this time with more authority.
“Can’t say that for sure. Too many variables.” The mechanic took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “But I can say there’s definitely something wrong. And that if you’d made it over the mountains without a flat place to land, you two would never have made it back to Fairbanks alive.”
* * *
Will shifted as much to the right a
s he could and kept his mouth shut while Jasmine piloted the smaller Piper Archer toward Fairbanks. It was early afternoon, but darkness wouldn’t come for a long time. Dinner wasn’t far away, and all he knew was that he wanted a huge cheeseburger and some distance from Jasmine Jefferson.
Earlier, while Jerry had stayed behind to repair the Twin Otter the best he could in the bush, Jasmine and Will had taken off in his tiny plane. They’d made a short hop to the small village of Winchinechen to drop off a load of cargo that Jerry had brought with him. Bringing cargo along with him minimized the number of flights into the bush. They’d returned to follow Jerry back to Fairbanks, and he now flew ahead of them in the Twin Otter.
This plane was smaller than the other plane, but the noise level was low enough that they could talk without the radios. That was the good thing, although he certainly wasn’t about to tell her he’d been attacked the night before. He needed to huddle with his team about that. And soon.
The bad thing was, no matter what Will had done all day, his elbow and his shoulder had collided with Jasmine’s. Normally, he’d let such incidental contact slide, but today...
Today it made him feel things. Each time they touched, his heart reminded him of how he’d opened up to her the night before. How sky and land and distance had combined to coax him into pouring out things he’d never really talked about to another human being.
He’d been puzzling how that had happened since the plane bounced along the ground and lifted into the air earlier this morning, and he still couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. All he knew for sure was that it was uncomfortable.
And it wasn’t where his focus should be. At some point yesterday, either before she left Fairbanks or at one of her stops, someone had sabotaged Jasmine’s plane and hunted them down on the frontier. Was she the target?