“Nope. They seem nice enough, but I say there’s more to them than meets the eye.” Corrie harrumphed loudly. “Three real slick-looking characters showed up here last night with a boy that Mr. Smith and Ms. Jones claim is their son. They all spent the night and are in there right now eating breakfast.”
Travis pulled the microphone away from Corrie who had reached out to grab it. “Folks, stay with us. After this message from our sponsors, we will, hopefully, be granted an interview with the mysterious couple Mrs. Nesbitt just told us about.”
Winn Sherman entered Cullen’s bedroom, a mug of black coffee in his hand. “Here you are, sir.”
Cullen muted the sound on the television, took the ceramic mug from Winn and sat on the edge of the bed. “You can run, but you can’t hide.” Cullen chuckled, then sipped his coffee.
“Do you think Mr. Smith and Ms. Jones are Cassidy and Maggie Douglas?” Winn asked.
“Oh, I’d lay odds that’s exactly who they are. Some old hag even described them. A bearded man, about forty-five and a tall, redheaded woman.”
“What a stroke of luck.”
“Divine intervention,” Cullen said. “The Almighty pointing the way for me.” He sipped more coffee. “Find out how far Stonyford is from here and round up some good men. There’s four of them, not counting the boy and the woman. With a dozen of us, we triple our odds.”
“I know where Stonyford is. It’s about twenty-five minutes from here, if we take the road around the mountain, and about forty-minutes if we go the main highway.”
“As soon as Cassidy finds out that a reporter is on his heels, he’ll get out of town as quickly as possible.” Cullen placed his mug on the nightstand, then scratched his chin. “He’ll figure there’s a chance I saw the TV report or that one of my supporters did, so he’ll be in a hurry to get his woman and his kid to safety.”
“That means he’ll probably head for the main highway. I suggest that we try to cut them off while they’re still on the back road leading out of Stonyford.”
“I agree. We need to set things in motion immediately.”
“Yes, sir!” Winn clicked his heels and saluted.
“What the hell is going on out there?” Hunter Whitelaw roared, his deep baritone voice booming as he glanced out the window. “Looks like a TV reporter and a couple of cameramen. And Mrs. Nesbitt is being interviewed.”
“Damn! That’s all we need,” Joe Ornelas said. “How did they find out about you two?” He glanced across the room to where Maggie and Egan stood in the corner, talking quietly.
“Knowing Corrie, she probably called that Travis Baker and told him about our wilderness survivors showing up yesterday, hoping she’d collect that hundred dollars they give away for news tips,” Ed Butram explained.
“I suggest we head out as soon as possible,” Wolfe said. “And preferably by a back entrance.”
“I want y’all to take Maggie and Bent and leave immediately,” Egan said. “I’ll arrange for transportation for myself and—”
Maggie clutched Egan’s arm. “No. You said that you weren’t going alone, that Wolfe was going with you.”
“I’ll go with him to find Cullen once you and your son are in safekeeping,” Wolfe reassured her, then quickly turned his attention to Ed Butram. “Do you have a car, Mr. Butram?”
“Got an old pickup,” he replied.
“Would you be willing to rent or maybe even sell us that truck?” Wolfe asked.
“Ain’t worth selling. It’s fifteen years old and needs a new coat of paint,” Ed said.
“How does it run?” Egan asked.
“Runs just fine. I keep it tuned up. Me and Corrie go into Flagstaff ever now and then.”
“How much will you take for it?” Egan asked.
“Whatever you think’s a fair amount.”
“I’ll write you out a check,” Wolfe said. “By the way, where is your truck?”
“Out back.” Ed hitched his thumb toward the rear of the hotel. “You’ll need the registration and the keys.”
“What are y’all planning?” Maggie asked when Ed left the room.
“We’re planning on getting you and your son to safety,” Wolfe said. “I’ll contact Sawyer MacNamara and let him know that Cullen might be aware of our location. There’s a good chance we’ll need some backup.”
“You think Cullen will definitely come after us, don’t you?” She spoke to Wolfe, but her gaze rested on Egan.
“Better to play it safe than sorry,” Hunter commented. “If Cullen’s got some Ultimate Survivalists sympathizers, then he could put together a small army to come after us.”
“You and Bent will go in the car with Wolfe, Joe and Hunter,” Egan said. “I will follow closely behind in Ed Butram’s truck, until we reach the Navajo reservation.” And if we encounter Cullen and any of his followers, I can hold them off until the others take you and Bent to safety, Egan thought.
“Once we’re on the reservation, we’ll be able to make sure no one is following us,” Joe said. “I’ll call ahead and have J.T. bring along some of his ranch hands and meet us.”
“What if General Cullen tries to stop us?” Bent’s cold glare confronted Egan. “If he knows where we are, he could be on his way here right now.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and that won’t happen,” Egan said. “But if he does come after us, you can be sure we’ll protect you and your mother. That’s one of the reasons Wolfe is going to contact the FBI. Believe me, they want Cullen almost as much as I do.” Egan laid his hand on Bent’s shoulder. “Whatever happens, son, I know you’ll watch out for your mother.”
“You can count on it,” Bent said.
“Do you know how to use a gun, Bent?” Hunter asked.
“No!” Maggie cried. “He doesn’t know anything about guns.”
“Aim and shoot,” Hunter said. “If a target is close enough, you’re bound to hit something. It might become necessary for you and Bent to be armed.”
“I’m not sure I could—” Maggie cringed.
“If it meant saving Bent’s life, could you?” Egan asked her.
She nodded, then said, “Yes. Yes, I could and would do anything to save Bent.”
“You already know how to use a rifle, but just as a precaution, it’s probably a good idea to give you and Bent a quick lesson in how to use a handgun,” Egan told her.
With his chin held high and his broad shoulders squared, Bent walked straight up to Egan. “Give me a gun and show me how to use it.”
While Ed Butram joined his sister on the street, distracting Travis Baker with his version of how he “come upon” Mr. Smith and Ms. Jones yesterday, Stonyford’s visitors made their escape. Wolfe had made arrangements with Sawyer MacNamara for federal agents to meet them en route, but Egan couldn’t help wishing that they already had backup. Of course, there was no way to know if Cullen had seen the newscast or if someone might have relayed the information to him. But Egan had no doubt that Cullen would learn that he and Maggie had been in Stonyford. He just prayed he could get Maggie and Bent to safety before Cullen caught up with them.
Ed Butram’s rusty, dilapidated, old truck chugged along, keeping up with the sleek, black sedan Wolfe maneuvered around the mountain curves. Every instinct Egan possessed sensed danger, but he wasn’t sure if his concern for Maggie and their son had somehow altered his usually perfect perception. Did he sense immediate danger simply because he feared for Maggie and Bent?
Ed had told them that if they stayed on the old mountain road they would eventually connect with a state highway, which would lead them to Interstate 40 and then it would be a straight shot to Gallup.
Once they made it to the interstate, the feds would escort them to the Navajo reservation and block any attempts Cullen might make to overtake them. After Maggie and Bent were safely hidden on the Blackwood Ranch, Egan and Wolfe would be free to pursue Cullen. They weren’t bound by the law the way the federal agents were and could use whatever means necessary to stop Cu
llen—dead in his tracks.
As they descended the mountain, the two-lane road winding ever downward, sometimes at unnervingly steep angles, glimpses of wide valleys came into view. Foxtail grass, yellow-white in the morning sun, grew thickly across the wide vistas near the lake at the foot of the mountain. Dirt trails, cutting off the main road, led into the deep woods. They had passed at least half a dozen of those secluded lanes, and each time they passed one, Egan’s heartbeat accelerated. A vehicle could easily hide and wait.
Surely they would reach the state highway soon, Egan thought as he checked his watch. Twenty minutes from Stonyford and so far, they hadn’t seen another vehicle on the road. Let’s keep it that way!
Straight ahead a narrow bridge crossed the East Fork of Pine Wood Creek. A dense stand of evergreens surrounded them, like giant sentinels towering into the sky. Just past the bridge the road turned sharply, concealing whatever lay around the bend. And they had just passed another of those damn little trails that led off into the woods.
The hairs on Egan’s neck stood up. A warning chill shivered along his spine. He started to blow the truck’s horn to caution Wolfe, but apparently something had forewarned Wolfe. The sedan slowed to a halt just this side of the bridge.
Egan rolled down the driver’s side window and listened. The truck’s and the car’s engines droned steadily. The only other sound was the hum of nature. A breeze high in the treetops. Leaves rustling. Squirrels chattering. Water flowing. Egan ran his hand over the smooth surface of the rifle Wolfe had given him before their departure, then he removed the pistol from his holster and laid it between his legs. He shifted gears and backed the truck off onto the side of the road. If danger was headed in their direction, he didn’t want the truck to stand between the sedan and an escape route.
With a wave of his arm, Egan signaled Wolfe to proceed, knowing full well he didn’t have to tell the man to do so with the utmost caution. The minute the sedan drove onto the bridge, a Hummer appeared, maneuvering hurriedly around the bend and into full view.
Egan’s heart stopped for one split second before he grabbed the rifle and took aim from the passenger side window. The sedan reversed quickly, sending the vehicle onto the road alongside Egan’s truck.
“Head back to Stonyford,” Egan yelled. “I’ll hold them off here.”
The back door of the sedan flew open and Hunter Whitelaw jumped out, rifle in hand. “I’ll stay here and help you.”
“No!” Egan hollered. “Go with them. Now!”
With only a moment’s hesitation, Hunter got back in the sedan and slammed the door. But before Wolfe could turn the car around, shots rang out from across the bridge and several bullets lodged in the car’s front tires.
Two sport utility vehicles emerged from one of the half-hidden dirt side roads. Egan immediately recognized the man driving the lead SUV. Grant Cullen, a sickening grin plastered on his face, gunned the vehicle’s gas pedal and flew around the Hummer, then came to a screeching halt on the bridge.
Dammit all! A hefty, fear-induced adrenaline rush flooded Egan’s body. He’d known this was going to happen. In his gut. He had sensed the inevitability of this moment. He and Cullen face-to-face once again—with Maggie and Bent witnesses to the final showdown.
Chapter 14
Realizing exactly what was happening, Maggie followed Wolfe’s orders without question. They had been ambushed by Grant Cullen and a group of his followers. With Joe and Hunter shielding Maggie and Bent with their bodies, they exited the sedan and made a mad dash into the ditch. Egan and Wolfe covered them with a barrage of gunfire that kept the Survivalists occupied.
At least a dozen armed men, not including Cullen and Winn Sherman, poured out of the Hummer and the two sports utility vehicles. A small army in comparison to the four Dundee agents. Fear pumped through Maggie’s system as her mind assimilated the situation. This scenic mountain road had suddenly turned into a war zone and she and her son were trapped between the two warring factions. No, that wasn’t precisely accurate. She and her son were more than innocent bystanders—they were a part of this battle, their lives at stake because they were important to Egan Cassidy.
Hunter motioned to Egan, who was separated from them by a good twenty-five feet. The two men exchanged some sort of hand signals that Maggie didn’t comprehend.
Then Joe Ornelas inched his way over to Maggie. “You and Bent will stay here with Wolfe. I’m going to give you and Bent each weapons, so that if it becomes necessary—”
“I understand,” she said, then accepted the 9-mm handgun from Joe.
“Hunter and I are going to make our way around behind them, while Egan and Wolfe keep their attention focused over here,” Joe told her.
Hunter handed Bent his pistol, a twin to Joe’s weapon, and shoved several extra clips into the pocket of Bent’s jacket. “The more firepower the better, to distract Cullen’s bunch. You’re too far away to actually hit anybody, but they’ll know we’ve got four shooters over here. Think you can do it?”
“Yeah, I can do it,” Bent said confidently. “And so can Mama.” He glance at Maggie. “Can’t you?”
“Yes, of course I can.” Maggie’s heart lurched with an uneasiness that had nothing to do with the danger surrounding them. There was a look of excitement, of heady anticipation in her son’s eyes and that look frightened her more than anything else. She had always known that the adventurous streak ran deep and wide in Bent, but until recently she had been able to curb his danger-seeking tendencies. Now, faced with a life-threatening situation, Bent became his father’s son, in every sense of the word.
The gun in Maggie’s hand felt alien to her, a weight she would prefer to toss aside. But she knew what she had to do. Joe gave her quick instructions, just as Hunter explained the basics to Bent. And all the while, Egan and Wolfe exchanged gunfire with the Survivalists troops. The noise distracted Maggie, but she tried to blot it out and concentrate on the task at hand.
Lying flat on her belly up against the side of the ditch, she looked across the bridge and immediately saw two men drop to the ground, casualties of Wolfe’s expertise. The gunfire intensified when Joe and Hunter disappeared. Bent aimed and fired. Repeatedly. It was as if he’d been born with that gun in his hand, Maggie thought and cringed.
You can do this, she told herself. The first time she fired the weapon, every nerve in her body reacted. Holding back her urge to scream, she fired a second time.
Maggie lost track of the passing minutes as she continued firing the pistol. Her vision focused across the bridge where, one-by-one, the Survivalists began dropping like flies. That’s when she realized Joe and Hunter had accomplished their goal. In a flurry of desperate activity, the few remaining troops piled into the Hummer. They’re retreating, she thought. That must mean we’ve won the battle.
The Hummer backed up, turned around and headed in the direction from which it had come. Two lone men remained, one behind the wheel of each SUV. Even at this distance, she recognized Cullen in one vehicle and Colonel Sherman in the other. Within minutes, the two vehicles mimicked the Hummer’s withdrawal. Maggie dropped the pistol to the ground. Her hands shook. Her heart raced. Nausea rose in her throat.
The roar of the old truck’s engine caught Maggie’s immediate attention. Egan! What was he doing? Where was he going? Ed Butram’s rust-bucket pickup crossed the bridge, flying around and through the dead and wounded Survivalists.
“Where is he going?” Maggie asked Wolfe.
“Where do you think?”
“After Cullen.”
“He can’t let Cullen escape,” Wolfe said. “You must know that.”
Out of nowhere Hunter and Joe appeared. A bright red stain covered Hunter’s shoulder.
“You’re hurt,” Maggie gasped.
“Bullet went straight through,” Hunter said. “Looks worse than it is.”
“Let’s change those tires,” Joe said. “So we can get the hell out of here. Egan just might need a little help.”
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“I’ll give you a hand,” Bent said and followed Joe around to the sedan’s trunk.
“I’ll help them,” Wolfe told Hunter. “You get in touch with MacNamara and see where our backup is.”
While Hunter used his cellular phone, Maggie paced the side of the road, nervous energy turning her into a jittery mess. She didn’t know whether to cry, laugh hysterically or simply scream until she was hoarse. How could Egan face Cullen, Winn Sherman and at least four other men alone? He was terribly outnumbered. One against six were suicidal odds. But she understood Egan’s reasoning. All that mattered to him was eliminating Cullen. Even if it cost him his own life in the process.
Egan saw Cullen’s SUV directly ahead. The dark blue vehicle flew around a deadly curve. Egan floored the old pickup and within minutes caught up to his enemy. Cullen glanced back in the rearview mirror. His gaze wild. His features hard. Egan saw the fear on Cullen’s face reflected in the mirror. Neither the Hummer nor the other SUV were within sight. Undoubtedly Sherman and the survivors had only one thing on their minds—escape.
Let them go, Egan thought. All that mattered to him was catching Cullen. And when he did…
With another hairpin curve just ahead, Egan squeezed all the juice out of the old truck that it had in it, then rammed Cullen’s SUV in the rear. Cullen bounded back, switching lanes as they neared the sharp loop. His vehicle skidded off the side of the road, shooting loose gravel in every direction and stirring up a whirlwind of dust.
Egan pulled the pickup alongside the SUV and they began a deadly game, using their vehicles as weapons. Back and forth. Ramming. Crashing. Metal crunching. Rubber burning. Sparks flying.
Cullen got ahead of Egan, the newer vehicle having a slight advantage. But within minutes Egan drew up along side the SUV, this time the truck on the wrong side of the road, near the mountain’s edge. Once again, Egan instigated the crunching dance between his truck and the sports utility vehicle Cullen drove.
In a maneuver Egan hadn’t been expecting, Cullen slowed down, whipped the SUV sideways and lunged, full-force, into the side of the pickup. Before Egan had a chance to do more than register what had happened, Cullen repeated the process, this time sending the old truck off the road. The back wheels dangled over the precipice, a rocky gorge far below the road. Just as Egan eased across the seat and opened the passenger’s side door, Cullen took a shot at him. The bullet barely missed, embedding itself in the seat.
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