“I know the development. It’s about twenty minutes from here,” Porter told her as they began the short climb. He let Willa go first; if she slipped he could catch her. “See that rock sticking out up there? That’s where we’re going.”
Porter followed Willa up the trail as they talked about the new headquarters and how it was to look like a generic company. “We’re going to say we do data entry,” Willa told him as they reached the rock. “Oh, wow,” Willa said as she looked out.
Porter followed her gaze. The view never got old. The rock jutted out about eight feet over the hillside, but what made it perfect was a natural break in the tree line that gave an unobstructed view of the pastures below and the setting sun.
Oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples were painted across the sky as they sat and ate their dinner.
“Do you think you’ll stay with the CIA?” Willa asked him as he held her in his arms. She sat between his legs and leaned against him as they watched the last of the sun set below the horizon.
“No. I’ve ever only wanted to have a horse farm. There’s land on the other side of this ridge that’s going up for sale. I’m thinking of buying it and putting a path through the woods to connect the two farms,” Porter told her.
The sun dipped below the horizon and darkness began to fall even as the last bits of color lit the horizon.
Porter’s phone buzzed and he was tempted to ignore it, but with all the action going on, he never knew if Pam hit someone again or if Kale found The Panther.
Where are you?
“It’s my dad,” Porter told Willa, who’d looked over her shoulder with worry. She relaxed and turned back to the sky.
Rock Ridge, he typed back.
Sensors have gone off near the woods there. We’re on our way. Hide.
“What is it? You went rigid?” Willa asked even as Porter moved to cover her mouth with his hand.
“Shh,” he whispered. “They found us.”
30
“What do we do?” Willa whispered even as Porter slowly looked around.
“We get into the woods. We’re too exposed here.”
Porter reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a gun before tucking it into the waistband of his pants. “Leave everything here. Let’s go.”
“Is it bad to hope it’s more Canadians?” Willa whispered as she placed her hand in his. Porter hoped like hell it was the case as he led Willa off the rock and began a quick walk upward into the thick trees.
“We go up, then along the ridge, and back down closer to the house,” Porter whispered to her as the terrain grew steeper.
A rock falling behind them had Porter freeze. It wasn’t close, but it was close enough that he knew whoever was after them was on their tail. He looked at the worry on Willa’s face and with a silent nod of agreement, they began to rush upward.
Porter stopped at the last rock outcrop and knew he’d have to help Willa up. “Like mounting a horse,” he whispered as he looked back down the hillside. Through the trees below, a shadow moved as the woods fell into darkness. “Hurry,” Porter ordered as he laced his fingers together.
Willa put her booted foot into his hands and he lifted her up. She clawed at the rocks as dirt and small rocks broke free and fell onto Porter. With one last boost, Willa pulled herself up.
Porter jumped up, grabbed the rock, and pulled himself up as the bullet slammed into the rock beside him.
“Hurry!” Willa yelled frantically as she grabbed his hand and pulled, helping him up and over the rock ledge.
“We have higher ground,” Porter told her as he grasped the gun and lay on the ground. “I’ll provide cover. I want you to run a quarter of a mile that way,” he said pointing along the ridge. There’s a break in the rocks and you can slide down that way. Just head straight down and it’ll spit you out near the back of my house. Don’t go to the house. Go to the barns and hide. Reinforcements are on the way.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Willa told him as she shook her head.
Porter saw the shadow moving toward the rock ledge and fired off a shot, but the shadow disappeared behind a tree. “Go, Willa! Now.”
Willa’s bottom lip trembled and she looked as if she were going to argue, but at the last moment she ran. The darkness swallowed her in a matter of seconds and now it was up to Porter to distract the assassin long enough for Willa to get to safety.
Porter saw the figure dart toward the rocks, but he couldn’t get a shot off before it disappeared under the rock ledge.
Porter held his breath as he listened. The assassin was coming. Porter backed away and waited. A hand appeared and Porter fired off a shot, sending pieces of rock flying. A second later the man’s other hand came into view. Only it wasn’t to grab onto the rock. He had a gun and began spraying the area with gunfire.
“Shit,” Porter cursed as he rolled away and leapt up. He had no choice but to run. He was too exposed. He wanted to run after Willa, but he couldn’t risk leading the man to her. Instead, he ran a few yards in the opposite direction and fired off a shot. He knew he couldn’t hit the assassin, but he needed the man to follow him and not Willa.
“Follow me, Willa!” Porter whispered harshly in the direction of the ledge. Then he took off. “Come on, hurry!” Porter said just loud enough for his voice to carry.
Porter waited until he saw the figure pulling himself up and raised his arm to shoot. In the dark it was hard to tell the difference between the man and shadows. The man pulled himself up and over and rose, firing his own weapon. Porter ducked and got off one wild shot before running down the ridge with the man hot on his heels.
Willa’s lungs burned. She was breathing hard from running, but she was also scared to breathe in case they heard her. Then she heard the gunshots. The break in the trees came into view and she stopped. She turned to look back and wondered if she could help Porter.
“Please be safe,” she whispered before doing as he ordered and racing down the grassy hillside.
Momentum shot her forward and then she was falling. She wanted to scream, but the impact with the ground prevented any sound from coming out as she rolled head over heels a couple of times until her body was flung like a rag doll down the rest of the hill.
Willa felt every rock, stick, and divot in the ground as she logrolled the rest of the way down the hill. Then suddenly she wasn’t rolling anymore. She lay flat on her back with her legs and arms sprawled out as she looked up into the starry night sky.
She had to run. She had to get help for Porter and she wasn’t any help lying in a heap at the bottom of a hill in the woods. Willa grimaced as she staggered to her feet.
There was no time to assess any of the aches and pains. Instead, she ran. She ran as if her and Porter’s life depended on it, because it did.
The house came into view and she swung wide of it and headed straight for the barn even as she saw the headlights off in the distance. She didn’t know if they were friends or foes and she wasn’t going to stand in the open to find out.
Willa darted through the barn door and then shut it behind her. Horses snorted and stomped their feet. They knew something was wrong and it was making them nervous.
Willa passed an empty stall and instead opted for a stall with a horse in it. “Shh, I won’t hurt you,” Willa whispered as she opened the stall door. She kept herself relaxed as she stood still and let the horse size her up.
Willa latched the stall door closed as she heard the barn door slide slowly open. The galloping heartbeat she’d had running was nothing compared to the sprint her heart was doing now.
A shadow slipped into the barn and melted into the darkness. Willa ducked down and pressed herself against the stall wall right under the feed bucket and hoped that the man would just glance inside and move on.
The horses grew nervous. The stomping and snorting grew more impatient as the assassin moved through the barn. She should have grabbed a pitchfork, then she’d be armed . . . wait.
Willa rea
ched down to her boots and slid her fingers inside. She’d worn them for their afternoon ride around the farm. Inside was the spring steel blade Sophie had given her. Willa tightened her fingers onto the hilt and silently slid the blade free. She clutched the knife in her hands and held it against her chest.
“Willa Aldridge. I won’t hurt you if you come with me. Otherwise I’ll be forced to hunt you down,” the deep voice said quietly but firmly from somewhere in the barn. Yeah, she wasn’t born yesterday. Like hell she’d go quietly.
Light flashed through the stall windows as the sound of vehicles screeching to a stop at Porter’s house echoed in the barn. She wanted to scream for help, but she couldn’t put them in danger.
“Come out or I’ll kill them,” the man said. He was closer now and she heard the soft footfall of his feet coming closer to the stall she was hiding in.
“Willa! Porter!” she heard Cy yell.
Willa had to bite her lip to stop from calling out.
“Where are they?” she heard Dylan ask.
“Porter told us to get lost until dark. I shouldn’t have listened,” Willa heard Jackson say with anger and worry in his voice.
“Tick-tock, Miss Aldridge. Either you come with me or I kill them all.”
Willa’s whole body trembled as she held herself quiet.
“Walker, your team clears the house. Dylan, you’re with me in the woods. Jackson, your team clears the barns. Let’s move,” Cy ordered.
“It’s now or never, Miss Aldridge. I don’t mind killing a few more people, even if I’m not paid to,” the man said in a low voice. He wasn’t the least bit concerned and that’s what worried Willa the most.
Willa held up the knife. Sophie’s words echoed in her head, “You can do anything when your life is on the line.”
“I’m here. I’m coming out. Don’t kill them, please,” Willa whispered back as she slowly stood up. She moved the knife so that the blade pressed against her forearm and out of sight.
The man moved quickly and was by the stall before she’d finished talking. He was tall and lean. His face was covered with a trimmed beard and he looked normal in almost every sense. Nothing shouted psycho killer.
He slid the stall door open and reached inside. Willa gasped as he grabbed her upper arm and yanked her from the stall. He pressed her back to his chest. He anchored her to him with an arm around her waist and a gun pressed to her head.
“We are going to quietly step out the back of the barn,” he whispered into her ear. “You make a sound to warn them and I don’t care how much I’m being paid to bring you in, I’ll kill you. Nod if you understand.”
Willa gave a single nod as he walked her quickly to the back of the barn as Jackson and Talon entered the barn from the side closest to the house.
“Move.” The man shoved her through the small opening in the back door and out into the night.
“You’re holding Miss Willa like my Bertha holds a seal,” Lucas said from beside her. A gun appeared in Willa’s peripheral vision as the FBI Hostage Rescue Team member slowly approached them. “Let Willa go and I won’t kill you.”
Relief flooded Willa, but it was premature as the man flung his arm around and shot. Willa screamed as Lucas went down.
Porter leapt down the rocky slope making his way around the thick trees that proved cover from the man chasing him. He was close to the bottom of the hill when he heard a gunshot followed by a scream. The noise was unmistakable. Willa was in danger.
“My associate has your girlfriend. I don’t need you anymore,” a man called out some fifty yards behind him.
“Which country are you from?” Porter called out as he hid behind one of the last trees on the hillside and searched the darkness for the assassin. He glanced down at his gun and cursed. He was out of bullets.
“Country? Nah, I’m more of an independent contractor.”
“Did The Panther hire you?” Porter asked.
“No,” he answered. “There’s more than one player in the world who wants the information Miss Aldridge has.”
A competitor to The Panther. Interesting. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Porter asked. “How about you give me information on The Panther and I’ll take care of the competition for you?”
“Nice try, but my job isn’t to eliminate The Panther. It’s just to get the girl.” The man was closer, but Porter couldn’t see him as he moved from tree to tree to protect his own cover.
Porter closed his eyes and opened his ears. He took in every sound of the night and then he finally heard it—the sound of grass being flattened no more than five feet away. The man was approaching the tree Porter was hiding behind.
Porter bent low and waited. When a dry leaf rustled just two feet away, he propelled himself around the tree. He lowered his shoulder and rammed it into the man’s gut, sending them both careening to the ground.
The man’s gun dropped from his hand, but before Porter could grab it, the man was punching Porter’s face. One thing Porter was good at was taking a hit. No matter how tough this man thought he was, he wasn’t tougher than a pissed-off bull.
Porter’s head didn’t even snap to the side. Instead, he smiled and slammed his head into the man’s and then the battle was on. Close combat fighting was hard because you couldn’t pull your arm back enough to get the full impact of a punch, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do damage. Porter let loose a flurry of punches to the man’s side near his liver.
“Ah!” the man yelled in pain as he used all his energy to shove Porter to the side.
However, Porter had a grip on the man’s shirt. The shove sent him rocking to the side enough for gravity to take over. Locked together, they rolled down the hillside. Porter exhaled in hopes of not have the air knocked out his lungs from either hitting a tree or from the assassin slamming into him as they rolled. Porter could tell when they hit the bottom of the hill as they were flung apart on the last bounce.
Porter scrambled to his feet, sucking in a deep breath. The assassin did the same and then they faced off as they circled each other. Porter didn’t wait for the man to make a move. He was never the sit back and let it happen kind of guy. Fear for Willa, anger over having countless assassins coming after them, and the need to get to Willa now propelled Porter forward.
The man blocked Porter’s punch but not the head-butt followed by a hard uppercut that connected to his chin. The man went down like a sack of bricks.
“I won’t mention the head-butt to Jace so you can avoid another concussion lecture if you don’t tell Abby I came without her. Deal?” Dylan asked as he tied the man up and hoisted him over his shoulder.
Willa looked at where Lucas lay groaning on the ground. Rage filled her as her kidnapper began to drag her toward the next barn even as they heard people running toward them.
“The Panther won’t get anything from me,” Willa said angrily.
“I don’t work for The Panther,” the man said, surprising Willa.
“Who do you work for?” she asked as he shoved her into the next barn and locked the door from the inside.
“I go where the money is, babe,” he told her as he dragged her toward the far exit even as someone tried to open the front door.
“I can pay you. I can pay you more than anyone else can.”
The man chuckled as he slid the back door open. “You don’t have enough money to match what she’s paying me.”
“She?” Willa asked.
“The Panther is nothing compared to a Lioness,” the man said knowingly.
When Willa looked up, she saw an SUV hidden behind the equipment barn. There was no way she was going to get into the SUV. However, she didn’t need to worry as Greer materialized between the equipment barn and the SUV with her gun raised.
“Let her go and I let you live,” Greer said in a voice that Willa didn’t even recognize.
The man gave a little snort of disbelief. Willa had seen what he did. He shot with no warning. Willa’s hand tightened on the
knife before loosening her grip so the knife swung like a pendulum down and forward. Then she tightened her grip on the hilt. She kept her eyes on Greer and when she gave the slightest nod of her head, Willa made her move.
Willa turned to dead weight and dropped down. As she forced the man to hold her upright, she turned and stabbed upward. The blade stuck into his side under his armpit. It slid between his ribs, through the muscle, and into the lung as if it were sinking into butter, thanks to the sharpness of the blade.
Willa didn’t have time to find out if it killed him. Greer fired and the man dropped to the ground with his arm still around her. Willa fell back against the man and instantly went into fight or flight mode.
“Willa!”
She heard her name being calling but was too deep into the battle to free herself for the sound of Porter’s voice to penetrate the fight or flight response.
“Willa! You’re safe, sweetheart. Stop fighting.” Strong arms went around her and lifted her up into a reverse bear hug.
She struggled, but then his lips were next to her ears whispering to her, “I love you, Willa. It’s okay. I got you. You’re safe.”
“Porter!” Willa cried as the tears came. Porter set her down and she spun to leap into his arms. “I was so scared for you. Are you hurt? Are they dead?”
“This one is,” Greer said, no longer feeling for a pulse.
“Ugh. That felt like one of Bertha’s playful hits,” Lucas groaned as he staggered over while ripping his bulletproof vest off.
“Are you hurt?” Cy asked, running over to Willa with every Davies—young, old, male, and female—behind him.
“I’m fine, thanks to Lucas, Porter, and Greer,” Willa said with a sigh as she smiled at Greer and squeezed Porter’s hand.
“Porter Davies,” Jace said with his hands on his hips. “Why is there a bruise forming on your forehead? Did you head-butt someone? Do you I need to remind you of the damage concussions can do to your brain?”
Forever Thrown: Forever Bluegrass #16 Page 23