by Krista Wolf
No matter how you looked at it, we owed him now. Big time.
“I guess I’m with them,” I said, scratching my beard. My eyes shifted to Sammara, and I let my gaze soften. “Second chances and all that.”
She returned a smile, and suddenly we were all staring at Briggs. He heaved a formidable sigh.
“Fine. But we’re going with.”
“Where?”
“To upstate New York,” he replied.
New York was my old stomping grounds. Or at least Brooklyn, anyway. But upstate… Upstate was wild. Wilderness. I knew very little about it.
“You realize if Goddard sees us move it’s all over,” I said. “He watching you for sure. And Kyle’s leg…”
“Then the two of you go,” he said simply. I could tell it would pain him to stay back, but Briggs was practical. And he wasn’t about to let his company go without precautions.
“I’m all in,” said Dakota, rubbing his hands.
I nodded. “Me too.”
Sarge barked, which was uncanny because it was almost like he was volunteering himself. Dakota laughed.
“You’re definitely not going,” said Sammara, reaching down to pat the puppy on the head. “But I am.”
Her words didn’t register at first. By the time they did, we were all shaking our heads.
“Oh yes I am,” she insisted. “This is it, right? The last thing we need to do to finally be free?”
Briggs and I looked at each other and shrugged. “Yes.”
“Then I’m going,” she reiterated. “I’m through sitting at home, hoping for the best. Waiting on bad news.”
“But you’ll have Kyle,” Dakota pointed out. “And Briggs—”
“I don’t care. I want to know everything went well. I want to understand where you are, what you’re doing. And I need to be there to stare Markus in the face, just in case he double-crosses us.”
The stars were out in full force now. There were thousands of them. It made me think about how wonderful this place was. How I just wanted this to all be over, so we could come home and enjoy it.
“Besides,” Sammara said. “You’re not going anywhere near Goddard when he meets with Markus. Right?”
Dakota rubbed at his chin. “Well, sorta near. But not in plain sight.”
“Then there’s only one thing left to know,” Sammara said, scooping up Sarge. He yelped adorably as he settled into her arms. “When do we leave?”
Forty-Eight
SAMMARA
We left almost a week later, after receiving second-hand word of the meeting. Our departure happened on a busy night, in the heart of the city. Half of us slipping out the side door of the packed restaurant, and into the most nondescript, unassuming car available.
The precautions were necessary because we were definitely being watched. Ever since Di Spatia had been handed back to him, Markus Ladrone had been extremely busy. The company’s accounts were in constant motion, with all new monies being moved. A good chunk of the team quit immediately, right after Jason announced the ex-mercenary captain was back in charge. The ones that stayed, stayed begrudgingly.
It was a good sign, but it was also dangerous. Jason was basically forced incommunicado, swearing off contact and spending all of his time at the house. Kyle, Dakota, and Ryan went about their business as if nothing much had changed. It all had to appear normal. The whole thing needed to be believable, or Goddard might not buy it.
Luckily for us, greed motivates. The moment the Colonel took the bait we were speeding north, toward New York — just Ryan, Dakota and I.
We passed the city and its glowing bridges, the main roads dropping away quickly as we continued onward and upward. Four lanes turned to two, and then one. Traffic lights disappeared. Forests sprouted up on either side of us, towering pines and great oaks and maples reaching high overhead.
More than a dozen hours later Ryan rolled the car to a stop. We were in the smallest of towns, on the ass-end of the Catskill mountains. A few miles away from Colonel Goddard’s property.
“We walk from here,” said Dakota. “But not until it’s dark.”
The wait was agonizing, mostly because the car was so small. But we were laying low. Trying to leave the smallest possible footprint over the next few hours.
It was nearly eight O’clock when the message came through.
“Let’s go.”
As it turned out, the walk was even worse than waiting in the car. Rather than use the roads, and potentially be seen, we trekked directly through the woods. It was slow going, avoiding branches and stepping over fallen trees and trying not to break our necks in the thick, decades-old layers of rotting leaves. I wasn’t sure how far we needed to go, either. Or even where we were going. Or what we would do when we finally got there.
“I guess I didn’t know what I was getting myself into,” I quipped, after about an hour. “Did I?”
“Shh!” Dakota hissed. “No talking.”
We continued on, through the darkness and the cold. Luckily the moon was three-quarters full. Even this deep in the woods enough light filtered in to see by, especially once our eyes adjusted.
After what seemed like forever, Dakota stopped and held up a clenched fist. I’d been living with four Army Rangers long enough to know what it meant, so I halted.
“This is it,” Ryan whispered quietly. “The line marker.”
All of a sudden he was holding a small map. Dakota held a pen-light to it, and together they traced an imaginary line across the smooth surface.
“Sixty yards that way,” Dakota said. “No closer.”
We moved again, this time at half speed. This time taking extra care not to disturb anything, or make any noise, or—
“There.”
We stopped… and suddenly I could see it. A beautiful, contemporary-looking house sprang up from the clearing ahead, virtually buried in the middle of the woods.
Dakota made another motion with his hand, and we all got down.
You probably shouldn’t be here…
The voice of doubt crept in, for the first time the whole trip. I did my best to shove it away.
It was selfish to come. You want to protect them, but you could end up putting them in greater danger.
“Sammara…”
I turned, and Ryan handed me something small and heavy. He put his lips to my ear.
“Thermal binoculars,” he whispered. “Night vision.”
I peered through the lenses, and silently he showed me how to adjust the focus. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I was hoping I’d know when I saw it.
Five minutes went by. Ten. Twenty.
I was starting to get really cold.
Dimly, my mind began to wander. I wondered how Kyle was doing. What Briggs was up to. Whether or not Sarge missed me, and if they were feeding him. I thought about Cindy, busy up to her eyeballs in the Merrick job. Hell, I even thought about Dawn…
The one thing I refused to think about however, was the message on my phone.
It had been there for days now, unanswered. A simple recording from Dr. Hill, asking me to come in right away to discuss my test results.
Right away…
The words had taken my breath away. They’d made my legs go weak, knocking me straight to my knees.
Discuss my results.
The phrase was ominous. He could’ve said things looked normal. He could’ve called me in for additional testing. Instead, he wanted to discuss results.
I could feel my heart pounding faster just thinking about it.
I’d never called him back. His office had left two more messages, and I hadn’t even listened to those. Thinking about them riddled me with anxiety. And there was just too much other stuff going on…
I went back to focusing on the binoculars. I still had no clue what I was searching for, but it gave me something to do.
“Shit, maybe we missed it,” Dakota murmured quietly. He sounded more than a little angry. “Either the info was wrong, or
Markus—”
Suddenly, motion. We all stiffened. Looking back at the house, I could see Markus now. He’d come out of the house, rather than go in.
“Damn!” Ryan hissed. “That little rat…”
Following him out was a tall, thin man with a grey mustache. The two of them were talking. Laughing. Having some sort of animated conversation between them. They paced back and forth in front of the house, speaking in low voices. But whatever they were saying, it was impossible to hear.
To my left, Dakota was still looking through some sort of sight-scope. On my right, Ryan was operating a small but sophisticated looking camera.
“Do you think he…”
I was shushed again, this time with another quick hand motion. It left me crouching in silence. Watching. Waiting…
Eventually Markus was gone. Inexplicably, so was Colonel Goddard. Not seeing either one of them gave me a queasy feeling in my gut.
Dakota and Ryan were staring at each other. They looked perplexed.
“Guys…”
Another hand motion, shushing me up. This time I ignored it.
“GUYS…”
I pointed to where the bushes were moving. A sweeping beam of light probed the darkness.
Then two beams of light. Three.
“SHIT!”
An alarm sounded, somewhere in the distance, and the whole house lit up. I heard crashing sounds in the forest. The snapping of twigs and branches. Voices. Shouts…
Then a hand closed over mine, yanking me forward…
And all hell broke loose at once.
Forty-Nine
SAMMARA
I half-ran, and was half-dragged through the forest. At first I didn’t even know which of my lovers had me, all I knew was that my feet were moving faster than they’d ever moved before.
Go! Run!
The voices were growing louder, and there were more of them now. Risking a quick glance up, I could see Ryan leaping over a rock, landing on both feet, and then ducking low to avoid a tree.
“This way!”
I was yanked again, this time in another direction. Dakota’s hand squeezed me so tightly I thought my wrist would break.
“Let me go!”
If he heard me, he didn’t entertain me. Hell, he didn’t even look back.
“I can move faster if you just let me—”
His hand opened, and he released my wrist. Immediately I lost step…
Sammara!
Somehow I maintained my balance and regained my stride. I kept my eyes locked forward and down, focusing intently on putting one foot in front of the other. I didn’t dare speak, or risk looking up at Ryan or Dakota. All I could do was keep them in my peripheral vision… and silently thank my winter track coach for putting me on the sprint events.
“Dakota…”
Ryan’s voice, and he actually sounded winded. He sounded worried too.
“Dakota, why are we—”
“Uphill,” Dakota gasped raggedly. The sprinting was taking a toll on him too. “Trust me.”
My lungs burned. I could feel them screaming for oxygen, even as my heart forced more and more heated blood through my veins.
Long legs… Long legs…
I’d been blessed with that much at least. My coaches had all said so. Still, I was a sprinter, not a long distance runner. I could keep pace with my lovers for now, but not forever.
“Over the hill and break left!”
We finally crested the rise, and thankfully before my wind gave out. Dakota practically dove left, and Ryan sprinted past him. I realized he’d been even with me only to keep me in sight. That he could’ve gone forward and past us anytime he wanted, but hadn’t.
You’re slowing them down.
Not-so-politely, I told the voice in my head to fuck off.
You’re not trained for this. You’re going to compromise everyone!
I risked a glance at Dakota and Ryan. The fear of failing them both was absolutely crushing. Maybe even worse than the possibility of failure itself.
You’re going to get everybody killed…
I dug deep. So deep, I found an all new place I hadn’t known about before. It was a place of limitless energy, of pure adrenaline. I tapped into it. Used it like a drug, to propel me forward…
“We’re losing them,” Ryan gasped. “Keep… keep going…”
I was ahead of them now. Ahead of them! Two badass Army rangers. Big, strong, powerful guys…
Then again, maybe that was exactly why.
CRACK!
A bullet ripped through the trees, just above my head. The gunshot was crisp and loud.
CRACK! It reported again. CRACK CRACK CRACK!
They were shooting at us now! Shooting. At. Us!
Sammara, don’t stop.
With horror I realized I was losing my wind. I was slowing down…
Then again, if they were shooting at us that meant that they’d have to stop, or at least slow down. They couldn’t be aiming while running. Not at the speeds we—
“Ummph!”
Suddenly I was swept from my feet… and thrown over two broad shoulders. For a few confused seconds, all I could see was a bouncing mop of dirty blond hair.
Dakota.
I wanted to protest. To tell him to put me down, and let me continue running…
Only my legs felt like jelly. Already I could feel them going dead, filling up with lactic acid that would make them useless.
“Here! Through here!”
Ryan’s low hiss guided us, and the next thing I knew we were ducking through a break in a bramble patch. Sticks and branches reached for us like cruel, indifferent claws. I could feel them raking away at my arms and legs. Pulling them in, I turtled up on Dakota’s shoulders and covered my face.
“Now down, toward the road…”
By the time I opened my eyes we were out in the open again. Dakota continued carrying me, as if I weighed nothing.
“The car?”
“About a mile,” Ryan replied. “Maybe less.”
“If it’s even… still… there,” Dakota gasped.
“No talking,” Ryan admonished. “Just run.”
Looking behind us, I saw no sign of our pursuers. No more shots rang out. No more flashlights cut the forest.
“Dakota, please let me go,” I said. “You’re slowing down anyway. At this pace I can keep up.”
For once, he listened without argument. He dropped me feet-first to the pavement, and I hit the ground running. Together we jogged, the three of us, for another several minutes in silence.
The forest road was uncharacteristically dark, even in the moonlight. For some reason, I couldn’t believe it didn’t have streetlights.
“Gotta… be… close…” Ryan spat.
Finally we crested one last turn, and our tiny car faded into view. Its headlights were eyes, its grill a stoic, unflinching mouth. The vehicle stared back at us impassively, completely oblivious to what we’d just been through.
We reached it at the same time, with all the glory of finishing a marathon together. The metal door handle was cold and reassuring beneath my hot, sweaty hand.
“I’m driving,” I huffed.
Fifty
SAMMARA
The sign above us declared two simple words: ‘The Imperial’. But it only took one quick look at the paint-chipped walls, and the sagging roofline, to know there wasn’t a single imperial thing about it.
“I’ll check us in,” said Ryan. “Hang back.”
We were far enough away from the clusterfuck of Colonel Goddard’s place to feel safe, at least for now. But since there were only so many roads in and out of the small town, we were also smart enough to know we needed to lay low.
“We’re going to get bedbugs here!” Dakota declared from the front seat. Oddly enough, he looked totally skeeved-out.
“You’re a sniper,” I reminded him. “You lay in bugs!”
“Not bedbugs,” he swore. “Shit, I’d rather sleep in the
car.”
“You barely fit in this car,” I laughed. “How in the hell would you—”
“Oh, I’d manage.”
We were still hot from our feverish run. But now we were cold too, our clothes all wet with perspiration.
“Besides,” I said, “Ryan’s right. We need to ditch the car. Quickly, too.”
Dakota was already busy scanning the darkness. The longer we sat there, the more he kept checking the mirrors and looking over his shoulder. Finally Ryan returned, clutching a little brass key on a lime-green plastic keychain.
“Alright. We’re in.”
He tried handing the keychain to Dakota, who only pushed it back into his hand.
“Take her in,” said Ryan. “I’ll get rid of the car and run back.”
“No, I’m ditching the car.”
Ryan laughed. “At the speed you run? We’ll be here all night!”
They went back and forth for another minute, arguing about who could still run a six-minute mile, who was carrying more muscle, and a whole host of other useless crap until finally Dakota sped off. Ryan led me to a room at the end of a long, dilapidated row of doors. There was a queen-sized bed and a tiny bathroom, but that was pretty much the full extent of the Imperial’s amenities. The rest of the place was a total and complete dive.
“Remind you of anything?” Ryan smiled slyly.
I laughed, because it already had. It looked almost as bad as the seedy little motel we’d hid out in years ago, at the back end of town. Coincidentally, we’d been chased that night too. Only chased in my Jeep, by two black SUV’s full of Markus’s men, rather than on foot.
That hotel also marked the first time we’d ever been together, Ryan and I. And it had been explosively hot. Pure, animalistic fucking — the end result of a shit-ton of pent-up sexual frustration and animosity that needed to get worked out in the bedroom.
After that one legendary night, the two of us became almost inseparable. The memory itself was so amazing I called it to mind over and over again, whenever I needed it.