“Have you been hiding out up there all these years?” Gil asked with surprise.
Sam nodded. “No one cared,” she insisted. “No one questioned me.” She then shrugged. “I know you never found the guys who shot me because if you had, you would have discovered there hadn’t been a ranger in that station for more than five years.
“Who were the guys who shot you in the woods?” Ross then asked.
“I assumed they were hitmen looking for me,” she announced. “I knew right away by the way they were dressed that they weren’t poachers.”
“So when did you realize we had Marco?” Bogart then asked her.
“I knew something wasn’t right about you guys,” Sam informed them, “but it wasn’t until the morning I was shot that I put it all together.” She cast a look at Gil. “Your medical kit was a little too professional for a bunch of photographers. That’s the kind of kit carried by people who see a lot of action.”
“And what was your plan for Marco?” Jackie felt compelled to ask.
“I’ve spent the last five years of my life alone in these woods,” she informed them. “I kind of miss people. I had no interest in the money I’d heard being offered for Marco. I just wanted my freedom.”
“And you thought if you handed Marco over to Vincent, you’d be off the hook?” Zack asked while raising a brow.
“It had crossed my mind,” Sam informed him.
“You would never have walked out of there alive,” Zack informed her.
Sam stared back at him. “Maybe I don’t care anymore,” she snapped in response. “Being alone is pretty much the same as being dead.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” Ross muttered without emotion, then straightened and eyed his team. “I’ve heard enough. Thanks to Vincent’s girlfriend, we need to discuss our options for possible extraction. I’m not sure if it’s safe to stay here. Who’s on first watch?”
“I’ll take first watch,” Gil announced with a sigh and flopped into the desk chair. “I could use the rest.”
The others started filtering from the clinic while muttering to one another over the possibility of locating a new safe house. Zack turned to leave as well.
Sam clutched the bars and stared at him. “Zack, wait,” she announced.
Zack looked back at her and showed little emotion.
She managed a timid, sympathetic smile. “I wasn’t using you,” Sam insisted. “What I felt for you was real.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zack casually informed her and shook his head. “I never had any feelings for you.”
Sam stared at him a moment and appeared mildly disappointed by the response but managed a tiny smile. “Ouch, that hurt.”
Zack didn’t react. He simply turned and left.
§
Colorado Springs. In a quiet, rural area not far from the city, the newly-built Huntington Country Club was nestled alongside a well-groomed, eighteen-hole golf course. The two-story building looked more like a massive mansion with gray, stone siding, immaculately kept lawn, and detailed landscaping. The parking lot was filled with expensive cars belonging to wealthy members. Men and women in their finest fall golfing outfits zipped around the course in their luxury golf carts. It was a beautiful, sunny, autumn day, which meant every serious golfer was out and about. The country club catered to its upscale clientele, offering fine dining, various indoor and outdoor recreation, and its popular luxury spa.
The country club spa contained every amenity, from manicures and pedicures to massages and saunas. No luxury was spared to pamper and spoil its members. Rather than having the typical waiting area, the spa contained staging areas for its guest’s comfort. Upon arrival, each guest was whisked away to their own private room, which included expensive furniture, a bar, and changing area. A man of undeniable wealth in his early forties sat on the comfortable, white lounge chair in his plush, white bathrobe with matching slippers. His expensive suit hung neatly on a special suit rack near the door. Armani Visconti had dark hair with some graying on the sides, adding to his distinguished appearance. He was a handsome, sturdy man with a strange mix of regal and ruggedness. He looked to be a serious businessman with no interest in anyone or anything outside of his little world. Armani remained casually reclined, sipping champagne from a crystal flute and texting on his cell phone while he waited.
There was a soft tapping on the door, which he didn’t acknowledge. The door opened to reveal the young, attractive receptionist, who was possibly in her mid-twenties. She was professionally dressed, looking the part of welcoming wealthy clients to the spa. Most men would find the woman unbelievably attractive, but Armani didn’t even give her a first glance, let alone a second. She was beneath him. The attractive receptionist wore an unnaturally pleasant smile on her face, undoubtedly programmed to be polite toward their wealthy clientele. It was obvious the young woman was doing her best to maintain her friendly demeanor despite Armani’s lack of pleasantries.
“Mr. Visconti,” she announced and waited for him to look up.
Armani finished his text then stood almost without acknowledging the young, attractive woman. The wealthy man met and socialized with his share of attractive women, and this particular woman had nothing to offer him that he couldn’t find in someone from the proper upbringing.
“Right this way,” the woman continued with her forced pleasantries.
Armani placed his cell phone in his bathrobe pocket and passed through the doorway. The young woman managed to get ahead of him and took him through what seemed to be an endless cluster of rooms and corridors. The system was designed with their guest’s privacy in mind. Despite being completely booked for the afternoon, the spa guests wouldn’t run into each other. The young woman opened one of the doors and politely extended her hand.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she announced. “I’ll let Angela know you’re here.”
Armani didn’t acknowledge the woman’s politeness as he continued into the room. The receptionist’s smile faded into a slight frown when she knew he wasn’t looking. She shut the door, giving him his privacy. The young woman obviously had her share of Armani’s. The private massage room was crisp, white, and sterile. The massage table, covered in white linen, was in the center of the room. The room had a private bar for their guests while they waited, a small, soothing waterfall, many scented candles, and fresh flowers. Armani removed his robe from his naked body and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He then wrapped the plush, white towel around his waist, pulled his cell phone from the robe pocket, and climbed onto the table, positioning himself face down. He placed his face through the padded hole in the table and continued texting on his cell phone. A few minutes passed when the door opened.
“Good afternoon, Angela,” Armani announced without interrupting his texting. “The usual with your customary tip for the extended happy ending.”
A black-gloved hand grabbed a handful of his dark hair and swiftly pulled his head back, nearly stunning him. He barely had time to react as the sharp dagger was firmly and swiftly slashed across his throat. Armani just about managed a gasp. The cell phone fell from his hand as blood poured from the gash across his throat. The gloved hand released his hair. Armani’s head flopped back into the padded hole while his blood continued to flow from the deep slit in his neck. The killer wiped the blood from the blade onto the white towel covering Armani’s buttocks, leaving long, bloody streaks. As the blood continued to flow from Armani’s body onto the sterile, white floor, the spa room door was heard opening, and the killer slipped out.
§
The seedy, single-story motel was located just on the edge of town, not far from where Carter and his team had lost Zack and Kirk. The three men were staying in two bland, uninspiring rooms with the connecting door open between them. Bart and Detrick were on their respective beds and watched Carter pace the small room while on his cell phone with Vincent.
“It’s as if they disappeared without a trace,” Carter informed their boss over the phone
. “No one has reported seeing the helicopter or any of the known vehicles anywhere. We’ve even resorted to sharing information with bounty hunters and rent-a-killers. They’re all coming up empty.”
“They’ve gone into hiding,” Detrick muttered while flipping through an old magazine.
“Must be one hell of a hiding place,” Bart remarked while staring at the ceiling. “You’d think someone would have seen them somewhere.”
“Gotta be someplace real secluded,” Detrick continued. “Away from people. Maybe camping on state game land.”
“They aren’t camping on state game land,” Bart scoffed while glaring at his partner.
“Why not?” Detrick bellowed and glared back at the large man.
“Because it’s getting colder at night,” Bart insisted. “They won’t want to be out in the cold weather for weeks.”
“There are cabins all over the place,” Detrick insisted.
“Not on state game land.”
“Near state game land,” Detrick launched back.
“Will you two shut up,” Carter snarled, then returned to his cell phone. “Okay, we’ll do that.” Carter disconnected his call then tossed the cell phone onto the small table in disgust. “His people don’t know anything either.” He collapsed into the chair, rubbed his eyes, and then looked at the two men occupying the two beds. “They have a helicopter, AKs, and enough manpower to lead us and a handful of bounty hunters on a wild goose chase. We have to assume these guys are professionals. They didn’t contact Vincent about the bounty, so that means they have to be working for Giovanni.”
“We checked all his safe houses,” Bart reminded him.
“Including the one next to the casino where he’d been staying,” Detrick muttered without taking his eyes off his magazine.
Carter groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yes, you were right, Detrick,” he scoffed, then glared at his man. “Can we move on already?”
“What’s our next move?” Bart asked. “We can’t just cool our heels in this dump forever. Who knows how long it’ll be before they poke their heads out of whatever hole they’re hiding in.”
“We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Detrick added, then tossed his magazine aside and sat up. “The two we ran into were extremely resourceful. They’re not giving up Marco without one hell of a firefight.”
“Then we’ll give them one,” Carter insisted.
“We’re a little outnumbered for that, and they have home-field advantage,” Detrick reminded him. “I highly doubt they’re going to be scared of us three.”
“It doesn’t have to be just the three of us,” Carter insisted. “We can join forces with the competition. Use them to fight the front lines.” Carter’s cell phone buzzed and vibrated across the small table. He grabbed his phone, pressed a button, and placed it to his ear. “Yeah?” There was a moment of silence. Carter suddenly perked up. “Yeah, got it.” He disconnected the call and sprang up from his chair. “Look alive. Vincent just got word from one of his contacts. A man was admitted to the hospital less than an hour from here with a gunshot wound. Probably two or three days old. The man’s name is linked to some car that had been found abandoned alongside the state game land near there.” Carter grabbed a map and spread it out on the table. He pointed to a location on the map. “Right around here.”
Detrick and Bart sprang from their beds, joined Carter at the table, and eyed the map. Detrick pointed to an area adjacent to the game land.
“What’s this right here?” Detrick asked.
Carter eyed the spot and shook his head. “Farm maybe,” he replied. “The game land is surrounded by large farms.”
Detrick whipped out his cell phone and searched the internet. He suddenly grinned and held up his phone. “It’s an old animal sanctuary.”
All three men exchanged looks then grinned in response.
“That’s one hell of a hiding spot,” Carter remarked. “Probably have themselves tucked in real nice.”
“Yeah, that means we’re going to need that army,” Bart informed him.
Carter chuckled and nodded. “I’ll rally the troops,” he announced. “Give them an offer they can’t refuse.”
“You do realize they’ll shoot us in the backs the moment we’re close to Marco,” Detrick insisted.
Bart snorted a laugh. “And we won’t?”
“We let the bounty hunters and hitmen lead the charge,” Carter announced, then grinned. “Then we’ll take out whoever’s left.”
Chapter 46
Ross stood with Beck before the counter within the visitor’s center later that afternoon. A map of Colorado was spread out before them while both seemed to ponder over it. Nevada approached them and eyed the map.
“Zack said you wanted to see me,” she remarked and again eyed the map. “What’s going on?”
Both men straightened and looked at the young, serious woman.
“Your two friends--” Ross began.
Nevada folded her arms across her chest and raised an arrogant brow. “They’re not friends,” she scoffed. “More like disgusting acquaintances.”
“Irrelevant,” Ross remarked. “What are the chances they were followed here?”
Nevada frowned and allowed her arms to fall to her sides. “They’re not nearly as stupid as they look,” she insisted. “They specialize in tracking men. If you’re good at tracking, you’re good at covering your tracks as well. They wouldn’t want anyone else moving in on their bounty.” She then shook her head. “No, they wouldn’t have allowed themselves to be followed.”
“That’s reassuring,” Ross remarked, although he didn’t seem convinced.
Beck remained tense and shook his head. “As far as safe houses go, this place is just about perfect,” he remarked, “but we’ve had two breaches in one afternoon. We should consider bugging out before someone else decides to drop in unannounced.”
Ross touched his hidden ear transmitter. “Zack, you copy?” he bellowed.
“I copy,” Zack remarked over Ross’s earpiece.
“Grab Jackie and escort her to the landing pad,” Ross announced. “Prepare for dust off on my command.”
“Are we bugging out?” Zack asked over Ross’s ear transmitter.
“I’m afraid so,” Ross replied. “By the time you reach the helicopter, we should have a new location.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ross turned to face Nevada with a stern look. “You know where to find Marco?”
“I left him in the shower room,” Nevada replied, revealing her displeasure with the plan to bug out.
“Get him,” Ross instructed.
Nevada was about to walk away when Ross and Beck both flinched and touched their ear transmitters, hearing an urgent message from one of the men.
“Kirk?” Ross announced with tension in his voice. “What’s going on?”
“We have company,” Kirk replied over his ear transmitter. “I’ve got half a dozen men on foot coming from the east and another half a dozen or so coming from the north.”
“I have at least a dozen coming in from the south and west,” Gil announced over their radios. “They haven’t reached the landing field yet, but they’re closing in.”
Ross cursed under his breath. “Zack, you copy?” he announced.
“I heard,” Zack announced over his ear transmitter with some urgency. “What’s the plan?”
“You and Jackie get to that helicopter ASAP,” Ross announced with his finger on his ear transmitter. “If you can take off without being shot, do it. Meet us back here for extraction.”
“Yes, sir.”
§
Nevada stormed into the clinic, startling Monroe, who had been reclined in the chair behind the desk. She darted across the clinic for the end cage and lunged through the bars for Rowen. He jumped back with surprise then laughed.
“You bastards!”
“Oh, someone is riding her broomstick today,” Rowen announced while chuckling. “What’s wrong, darl
ing? Marco slip away on you?”
As Nevada made another attempt to grab Rowen, Monroe approached with some surprise.
“What’s going on?” Monroe asked while glaring at the enraged woman.
Sam remained casually reclined on her cot in her cell with her head resting against the cinder block wall and watched the unfolding scene with little interest.
“They gave away our location,” Nevada shouted in anger without taking her eyes off either man behind the bars.
“What do you mean?” Monroe asked with concern.
Sam now appeared interested in the conversation and sat up on the cot.
Nevada spun to face Monroe and appeared surprised. “Haven’t you been listening in on your comlink?”
Monroe tapped his hidden ear transmitter and immediately heard a lot of chatter. Ross hurried into the clinic with his finger on his ear transmitter.
“All hands on deck,” Ross announced while on high alert. “We have men coming at us from every corner. They’re surrounding the sanctuary. Kirk and Gil have visual on them. They’re moving in on foot.”
Monroe turned to face Ross and appeared concerned. “Are we evacuating Marco in the helicopters?”
“We’ll never make it to the helicopters,” Ross informed him. “At least not with Marco. Zack’s going to cover Jackie’s ass and see if he can get her to her helicopter, but it’s not looking good.”
“How many men?” Rowen asked while moving directly in front of the bars. The look on his face was that of genuine concern.
Nevada punched Rowen in the face through the bars. He clutched his mouth then glared at Nevada while holding his bleeding lip.
“We didn’t give away our location. We weren’t followed,” Rowen insisted, now turning angry. “Do you think we weren’t careful?”
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