“What other choice do we have?” she asked.
“The only other choices we have are to risk getting gunned down by either Cullen’s soldiers or being accidentally shot by the feds if we cross over into the war zone.” Egan took a deep breath. “Or we can give ourselves up to Cullen.”
Maggie shook her head. “Tell me how Cullen and Sherman got away, if the feds have the fortress surrounded?”
“Undoubtedly he had more than one escape hatch.”
“He left his men there to fight and die, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what he did. I just hope those poor stupid boys don’t fight to the death. While they’re giving their lives for the Ultimate Survivalists cause, their glorious leader will be tracking you and me.”
“He and Sherman will have rifles, maybe even submachine guns, won’t they?”
“I have this pistol.” He showed her the Glock. “I’ve got seventeen rounds and I don’t intend to waste one shot. Now, come on. Let’s get going. Our goal is to stay at least one step ahead of them and if we’re lucky, we’ll lose them.”
Egan knew the odds, but he was willing to accept those fifty-fifty odds and bet he and Maggie could come out of this the winners. Just the fact that Bent was safe put them ahead in the game already.
He might not know this country as well as Cullen did, but he had survived in the wilderness more than once and he’d put his skills up against Cullen’s any day of the week. He had to make sure to cover his tracks, to take the unexpected path, to do the illogical. Cullen was the type of man who would become easily frustrated if confused. And Egan meant to confuse the hell out of the son of a bitch!
“Why did you go off and leave them?” Bent Douglas demanded in a tone that reminded Ellen of Egan Cassidy’s ferocious growl. “How could you have—”
Hunter Whitelaw laid his bear-paw of a hand on Bent’s shoulder. “There’s no way they could have made it to the chopper from where they were. Not without being shot down by that machine gun. We couldn’t get to them and they couldn’t get to us.”
“Our orders were to take you away and keep you safe, no matter what else went down,” Ellen said.
“Whose orders?” Bent asked.
“Your father’s,” Ellen replied.
Bent searched Ellen’s face. “Who are you people and what does Egan Cassidy have to do with what happened to me? That man, that General Cullen, knew my father, didn’t he? He was using me as bait to bring Egan Cassidy to him.”
“Cassidy is a former mercenary,” Ellen said. “He worked freelance for the CIA several years before he retired. A couple of years ago, he came to work for us. The Dundee Private Security and Investigation Agency in Atlanta. There’s been bad blood between Grant Cullen and your father for a long time, but I’ll let Egan explain the details to you.”
“Then you believe he and my mother will be all right?”
Hunter squeezed Bent’s shoulder. Ellen wished she could tell the boy what he wanted to hear and for just a moment she considered lying to him. But she owed Egan’s son the truth, even if she did choose to put a positive spin on it.
“I believe that if any man can find a way out of that situation and bring your mother back to you, then Egan Cassidy can.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Bent asked. “Can’t you go back and help them?”
“There’s no way to know for sure where they went,” Ellen said. “That’s a big mountain down there.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Bent glared at Ellen.
“I’m going to take you to Flagstaff and wait there for Egan to contact us. Ornelas and Whitelaw—” she nodded first toward one and then toward the other “—are going to be your personal bodyguards.”
“Why do I need bodyguards if the man who kidnapped me is still back at the fort?”
“Because Cullen heads up a group called the Ultimate Survivalists and we have no idea how far-reaching this group is or if Cullen has issued orders to harm you.” Ellen hated being brutally honest, but these circumstances called for nothing less. Bent wasn’t a child. He was a young man of fourteen. He would be safer armed with the knowledge that his life might still be in danger.
What a freaking mess to be in, Ellen thought. If Cassidy didn’t make it through, if he and Maggie didn’t survive, then the Dundee agents would have an orphan on their hands. And if Cassidy didn’t take care of Cullen, Bent’s life would remain in danger. There was only one solution to this problem.
Grant Cullen had to die. And Egan Cassidy had to live.
Winn Sherman loaded a backpack onto the young soldier, then draped a rifle over his shoulder. “We’re ready, sir.”
“The men have their orders,” Cullen said. “They’ll hold the fort as long as possible to give us time to escape and then they’ll surrender.”
“We’d better get going,” Sherman suggested. “Cassidy and the woman already have an hour’s head start.”
“Not to worry.” Cullen grinned as he petted the submachine gun he held, then knelt to caress MacArthur and Patton. “Where can they go except down the mountain? If we don’t catch them on the way down, we’ll catch them at the bottom. This game isn’t over until I win. And that can’t happen until Cassidy, his son and his woman are all dead.”
Maggie and Egan had been hiking at a hard, steady pace for over three and a half hours, a grueling journey to put as much distance as possible between them and their pursuers. Egan had used every method he knew to throw their searchers off track, including choosing a destination on the far side of the mountain that would prolong their descent. He hoped Cullen would assume he would choose the quickest and easiest way.
Egan had rushed Maggie, forcing her into an uncomfortable pace, wanting them to reach water for two reasons. First, they were both hot, tired and thirsty. One of the greatest dangers to survival was dehydration. And second, despite his best efforts, it was possible that Cullen might pick up their trail. But if they could follow a streambed for several miles, they could improve their odds of escaping completely.
“Listen!” Egan shouted. “Do you hear it?”
“A waterfall?” Maggie asked.
“And where there’s a waterfall in these mountains, there’s usually a streambed. Come on. Follow me.”
Maggie’s lungs burned, her calf muscles quivered and her back ached. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest. And never get up again. But instead, she tagged after Egan like an obedient puppy. Doing her best to keep up, she made her way behind Egan through a narrow passage that led them down into a steep gorge. Towering walls of jagged rock closed in around them, waiting to rip and tear their clothes and skin. Gravel slipped beneath their feet, often showering in a rockslide to the bottom of the gorge.
When Egan reached level ground, he grasped Maggie’s hand and led her into a box canyon, deep within the mountain. Sheer walls of stone rose up a good two hundred feet. Three-fourths in the middle of the granite wall, a spray of pummeling water spouted forth and jetted in a twelve-foot fall to the pond, which created a meandering stream that disappeared around the bend.
“Just a little farther and we can take a longer rest,” Egan told her. “But we can stop here for a few minutes.”
Maggie dropped to her knees, not caring that the rocky terrain of the streambed ate into her jeans. Cupping her hands, she swooped up cool, crystal-clear water and brought it to her lips. Nothing had ever tasted as sweet. After drinking several handfuls, she lifted another and splashed the water in her face.
Egan drank his fill from the stream, then doused his head into the creek. Rising up onto his feet, he waited for Maggie to stand, and when she didn’t, he grabbed her arm and jerked her up beside him.
“I think we’re safe from Cullen. At least temporarily. He’ll have a damn hard time finding us.” Egan swiped flyaway strands of Maggie’s hair from her face. A warm flush brightened her cheeks a shade darker than the sunburn on her nose and forehead. “You’ve got the beginning of a sunbu
rn.” He tapped the tip of her nose.
“It’s this darn peaches-and-cream complexion of mine,” she said, a faint smile curving the corners of her mouth.
“Sorry we don’t have anything you can use to protect that beautiful skin of yours.” He caressed her cheek. “But I’m afraid we have more immediate and essential problems to concern us.”
“I assume you mean other than escaping from Cullen.”
“Shelter,” he told her. “Come night, we’ll need a safe place to sleep.”
“What about food?”
“If necessary, we could live for weeks without food, but only days without water.”
“Anything else I should worry about?” she asked.
“Let me do the worrying for both of us.” When she frowned, her forehead wrinkling and her eyes narrowing into a don’t-try-to-placate-me glare, Egan gave her a gentle shove. “Let’s get moving. We’ll rest farther upstream. I promise.”
Knowing that her child was safe, Maggie could face anything that came her way. And she had no doubts that she was in good hands with Egan. Nodding agreement, her frown turned into a halfhearted smile.
“That’s my Maggie.”
She had no idea where they were. All she knew was that they hadn’t reached civilization and hadn’t seen any sign of human life all day. Egan had backtracked and zigzagged and by his own admission, taken them miles out of their way, all in an effort to throw Cullen off track. Once Egan had felt reasonably certain they had circumvented Cullen’s search, they took frequent rest stops, for which Maggie was eternally grateful.
The sun sank low on the western horizon, melting into a rotund crescent pool of golden orange. The terrain spread across the rocky ground to a dense stand of pine and spruce trees. A lichen that Egan had told her was called “Old Man’s Beard” dangled from the branches of many of the spruce trees. Farther along the mountainside, white aspens grew in profusion and New Mexican locust flowers hovered around their trunks.
Night was fast approaching and they had yet to find shelter. The last rays of sunlight shot across the horizon, creating a red and purple hued display in the sky. The temperature had already begun to drop. Maggie shivered.
“Even when we stop for the night, we can’t risk a fire,” Egan said. “I’m sorry.”
“What are we going to do, huddle under a tree?”
“Maybe. But I keep hoping we’ll run across a cave.”
“Yeah, sure.” Maggie’s stomach growled. “And while you’re hoping, hope for a bowl of chili and some corn bread.”
“What’s the matter, didn’t you like the nuts and berries I found for us?” he asked teasingly.
“I know we won’t starve without food for quite some time, but subsisting on sour berries and bitter nuts that even a squirrel wouldn’t touch could definitely affect my normally sunny disposition.”
“Then tomorrow I’ll see if I can’t find you more edible fare.”
“How about bacon and eggs?” Maggie sighed. “I suppose I should be more concerned about where we’re spending the night than about what we’ll have for breakfast.”
Perhaps she should consider it odd that they could joke at a time like this, but somehow, with Egan and her, the jovial comradery seemed perfectly natural. After all, not only was their son safe with the Dundee agents, but they themselves had escaped death more than once today. Despite the threat of Cullen’s pursuit, she felt lucky. Lucky to be alive and lucky to be with Egan. She knew, in her heart, that if anyone could get them to safety, he could.
But once Egan reunited her with Bent, what would happen then? an inner voice asked. But she knew the answer. He would hunt down Cullen, face his worst enemy and destroy him. Or be destroyed!
“I think I’ve found an economy suite for us.” Egan clutched Maggie’s shoulders and maneuvered her around to stand in front of him. “Take a look. It doesn’t provide the security and total privacy of a cave, but it allows us a great view of the stars.”
At the foot of a rocky embankment littered with brush and wildflowers, Maggie spotted Egan’s discovery—an odd-shaped boulder, with an overhanging lip curved like the letter C. It wasn’t a cave, she thought, but it was the next best thing.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to find a better place for us to spend the night, but the overhang will provide a modicum of shelter and the jagged cliff wall surrounding it will add to the feel of privacy.”
“Looks like Motel Heaven to me.” Maggie offered him a weary, but appreciative smile. “How do we get down there?”
“We climb down,” he said.
“I was afraid that’s what you’d say.”
“Not wimping out on me at this late stage are you, Maggie mine?”
“You lead, I’ll follow,” she repeated the words that had now become a litany.
“Just what I wanted to hear.” Egan flashed her a brilliant smile. “A woman who knows how to take orders.”
“We’ll head back to Minerva,” Cullen said. “There’s not much daylight left, so call and have someone meet us before dark.”
“Yes, sir,” Colonel Sherman said.
Winn Sherman instantly obeyed the general. He made a quick phone call, while young Lieutenant Shatz handed Cullen a canteen of water. Cullen drank his fill, then motioned to Shatz. The lieutenant removed a bowl from his backpack and filled it with water from his own canteen. Cullen led his rottweilers to the tepid liquid and then handed their reins to Shatz.
“Where the hell is he?” Cullen fumed. “He’s led us on a merry chase, but if Cassidy thinks he’s outsmarted me, he’d better think again. He may have gotten away this time. But our organization has eyes and ears everywhere in this part of the state. Once he shows up, we’ll take care of him.” Cullen stroked the submachine gun in his hand.
Winn would follow General Cullen to hell and back for the cause. But tracking down Egan Cassidy and Maggie Douglas had nothing to do with the Ultimate Survivalists. This was a personal vendetta in which the general had involved his soldiers. Winn couldn’t stop thinking about the men back at the fort. All those who had died and all those who would be arrested. A bunch of fine young men—boys he had helped train. But he didn’t dare question Grant Cullen’s authority.
The general had promised that once Cassidy and his woman were eliminated, he would regroup and recruit new soldiers. The cause would rise from the ashes more powerful and more glorious than ever.
That’s all that mattered to Winn. The Ultimate Survivalists. So when the time came, he would be at his master’s side, to hunt down and kill Egan Cassidy.
Chapter 9
The oddly shaped boulder curved over them like a canopy, giving them some protection from the elements. Even though the breeze that rustled through the treetops didn’t touch them, the falling temperature chilled them. Egan finished the mattress of branches, moss and leaves he had built, row after row, to cover the cold ground.
“Lie down,” he told Maggie. “And turn toward the boulder.”
With exhaustion claiming her body and mind, Maggie gladly complied with his command. Although the cushion beneath her lacked the comfort of her bed at home, Maggie’s weary body appreciated the luxury of simply lying down and relaxing. The aromatic evergreen boughs filled the night air with their fresh, woodsy scent.
Egan lifted the small branches he had stripped from nearby spruce trees and dragged them with him as he eased down beside Maggie, his chest to her back. He removed the pistol he’d worn secured by his belt and set it within his reach. Once in place, their bodies lying spoon fashion, he rearranged the branches, covering Maggie and himself from ankles to shoulders as he completed their survival bed.
“Is your back exposed?” Maggie asked. “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine, honey. How about you?”
“I never thought a bed of sticks and leaves would feel so heavenly. Or smell so good.” Her soft sigh transformed into a deep yawn. “I don’t think there’s a muscle in my body that isn’t aching. Even my hair aches.�
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He nuzzled her hair, then kissed her head. “Your hair smells like sunshine.”
A tiny giggle hung in her throat. “I can’t decide if that was a sweet thing for you to say or just downright silly.”
“I’d prefer for you to think it was romantic.”
“It was,” she told him. “But then you always were a romantic. Always said just the right words, always did just the right thing. Inside that warrior’s body, you have the heart and soul of a poet.”
Egan chuckled. “You think so, do you?”
“I know so.”
A languid silence, a soul-felt weariness equal to the debility of their bodies, shrouded them. Long-ago memories invaded their thoughts. A week out of time, when they had been lovers. Tender words spoken in the quiet moments after lovemaking. Earthy, erotic phrases whispered in the heat of passion. Gentle strokes. Flesh against flesh. A joining of hearts and bodies. And souls.
A child, created in those sweet, unforgettable moments when nothing and no one had existed except the two of them.
Egan splayed his hand across her belly. “I wish I could have been with you when you were carrying Bent.”
Maggie placed her hand over his. “I wanted you there with me. I needed you.” She shuddered ever so slightly.
“Can you ever forgive me for what I did? And for putting you and Bent at risk? I never intended to hurt you. I would rather have died than to have harmed you in any way.”
She snuggled against him, loving the feel of his big body draped around her, warming her, protecting her. “Our romance…our love affair was as much my doing as yours.”
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