Tempt the Night

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Brady reached for his night-vision goggles and rifle, breathing slowly, hoping to dislodge the ache in his stomach. There was no doubt in his mind that Mac was with Nick Taylor. Whether he was a friend or an enemy didn’t make much difference to Brady. Get a grip, man. Find her first, and worry about who she’s with later.

  Brady slung his rifle onto his shoulder, slipped his goggles over his head for easy access, and double-timed it up the trail. He sensed more than heard the others fall in behind him. One thing each of the team members did well was cover ground silently.

  Halfway to the Plateau, he stopped and maneuvered his goggles into place. Slowly, he scanned the slope ahead, now bathed in a strange iridescent light, paying special attention to the flat expanse of rock that was their destination. Nothing suspicious jumped out at him, but the hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, and his instincts were seldom wrong.

  He slid his night-vision goggles down around his neck again, and his skin tingled as Walker moved alongside him.

  The barest wag of Walker’s head indicated he’d also seen nothing, and he slipped his goggles into his backpack. “Nice view from here. Be a great spot for someone with a rifle.”

  “Roger that. Jim, give your rifle to Rayna.” Joe appeared beside Brady, his voice low.

  Rayna stepped toward Brady, evidently waiting for him to hand off the weapon. He hesitated only a moment. His training and experience had taught him that you better have a good reason for ditching a weapon.

  His gaze swept from Joe to Rayna. She studied him, a perceptive grin telling him she knew exactly what he was thinking. Bright and confident, she was the most capable marksman he’d seen in a long time. She’d proved on numerous occasions that she could do what needed to be done. He handed her the rifle.

  “I’ll take care of her like she was mine.” Rayna brought the Colt AR-15 against her, cradling it under her arm. With a mock salute, she left the trail and headed toward the Plateau, probably with her vantage point already picked out.

  Joe turned to whisper to Sanchez, who waited, alert and watchful, a few steps away. “Keep an eye on her.”

  Sanchez nodded and slipped silently into the dense vegetation.

  Brady, Walker, and Joe continued on the trail. They’d only gone a hundred feet or so when Joe’s phone chirped once, shockingly loud in the silence of the mountain. Joe swore under his breath and dug for the offending device before it could sound off again. Walker and Brady kept moving upward, leaving Joe to catch up after he’d put his phone on silent.

  After only a second, Brady heard a hiss from behind him and turned just as Walker did the same. Joe was striding toward them like he was on a mission, pushing his phone back in his pocket.

  Suddenly, a gunshot cracked through the night, echoing off the rocks, followed by another. Brady swung toward the north, his best estimation of where the sounds had originated. It was a .380 short. He’d recognize that report anywhere after hearing it in the alley in Sitka when Mac had defended herself against the trooper gunning for her. Evidently, she was still packing Callahan’s state-issued piece . . . and she was in trouble.

  Brady sniffed the air. Was that smoke he smelled? He raced up the trail for about ten yards before he flipped his night-vision goggles into place and jumped off a short ledge to the hard-packed dirt beneath. As soon as he regained his balance, he resumed his dash toward the location where the shots had come from. He heard Joe say something in a low, insistent voice, followed by a whistle from Walker, and then Joe swore. The next instant, the mountain echoed the shrill siren of the alarm from the compound—the second time tonight. The fence had been breached again, but Brady couldn’t change his course this time. Mac needed him.

  As abruptly as it started, the alarm ceased, but a few seconds later, small weapons fire popped in the distance. He pivoted to stare toward the compound. Ty and the others would make short work of any attack on that end. That was a given. Had Joe and Walker headed back? Rayna and Sanchez? Or were they still behind him somewhere? On any other mission, he’d never have taken off by himself, but this time he’d had no choice.

  He skirted the northern edge of the Plateau and stopped, ducking behind cover of the rocks. Up the slope, a hundred yards or better, the brazen bastards had started a bonfire. He counted five of them, talking, laughing, and passing around something they each drank from.

  A chill settled in his chest as another man appeared from the far side of the Plateau, clutching Mac’s arm and pushing her along toward the group at the fire. Brady froze. The man wore a cowboy hat. Nick! How the hell had that man gotten past Joe’s safeguards to attack from the inside? Even with his goggles, Brady couldn’t make out the man’s face, but it had to be that lying, cheating bastard. A black rage made him itch to get his hands on Nick Taylor. This would be the last time he double-crossed someone.

  Mac didn’t appear to be hurt. She carried Marco in her arms, and he clutched her neck in a desperate hold. As they approached the others, a tall man disengaged from the group and walked toward her. He said something, then reached for Marco. Mac backed away until Nick stopped her. A short conversation ensued, and then he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the fire, pushing her and Marco down outside the circle of men.

  Brady had enough firepower to take them all out, but the chance of Mac or Marco being hurt in the interim was too great. He had to get to them silently, one at a time, until he could interject himself between them and their hostages and finish the job. He settled more comfortably against the rocks and waited for his opportunity.

  After a few minutes, one of the men stumbled to his feet, said something in Spanish, and disappeared into the trees at the base of the Plateau with his rifle slung over his shoulder. Brady unsheathed his blade and moved out on an intercepting course.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE ALARM WENT quiet as suddenly as it had started, leaving an odd ringing in Mac’s ears and emptiness in the surrounding forest. The intruders were closer now. They no doubt thought they were being stealthy, but Mac heard their gruff whispers and their clumsy footsteps. Get Marco out of here. That’s the last thing Nick had said before he disappeared. She couldn’t fathom why he had or where he was now, but the one thing she felt certain of was that he held no small amount of affection for the boy and wouldn’t want to see him hurt.

  The only problem was that by the time she and Marco had reached the point where they could climb down safely from the Plateau to the trail, she would have been delivering them right into the enemy’s hands. So she’d backtracked along the rim on the west side of the Plateau until she found a place where they could slide over the side and perch on a small rock outcropping with a sheer drop below them. As near as she could tell, this would be a one-way trip, unless Nick returned to help them back to the top . . . but under the circumstances, it seemed the lesser of two evils.

  They’d managed to stay hidden for several minutes. The group of men had walked by above them twice already, and Mac was beginning to hope that they would give up and go away. When a man had suddenly dropped down beside her, a rope, fashioned like a harness, tied around him, she’d jumped, losing her balance and almost toppling over the side. The grinning man in camouflage pants had snatched Marco out of her arms, tugged on the rope, and risen quickly up and over the side.

  It all happened so quickly, Mac hadn’t had time to think, much less fight or protect Marco. She should have been ready—should have known the devils would find them. If something happened to him, she’d never forgive herself.

  Now, Marco was whimpering above. A gruff voice cut him off. “Shut up if you ever want to see her again.”

  “Hey! Leave the kid alone. He’s scared enough already. Let’s get this done.”

  Mac’s breath left her in a rush, and she sagged against the rock wall. Nick! He was up there. He was one of them. My God! She’d trusted him, even after he’d run out on them.

  She leaned back, and Paddy’s gun bit into her soft flesh. As she heard the
camo man slipping over the edge of the cliff again, she jerked the weapon free and shoved it in the top of her hiking boot, hoping her pant legs were wide enough to hide the bulge.

  The man landed precariously close to the edge, and for a moment, all she could think about was pushing him off. With a little luck, she’d not only get him, but his comrade above who handled the rope. If there really was a God in heaven who controlled the universe, that man would be Nick. But, of course, that wouldn’t get her off the side of this cliff. She needed to be up top where Marco was.

  Camo man stepped toward her and jerked her against him, his lecherous grin making her nauseous. One of his arms went around her waist, right where the gun had rested seconds ago, and clamped her to his hard form. Then he jerked on the rope again, and in less than a minute, she stood face-to-face with Nick Taylor. His hands rested on Marco’s shoulders as the young boy stood in front of him.

  “Let him go.” She stared at Nick, so disgusted her stomach rolled within her.

  He did what she told him, but before he released her gaze, he gave her his easy, laid-back cowboy smile, which served not only to confuse her further, but also made her damn good and angry.

  Marco bolted toward her, and she knelt to scoop him up, but the other man, now out of his harness, blocked her and grabbed the boy by his hair. Marco cried out, and Mac drew back her fist, ramming it full-force into camo man’s stomach.

  It was a wasted effort. The punch had absolutely no effect on the man, unless she counted his right cross that knocked her on her ass and momentarily blackened her world. She fought her way back to full consciousness, a groan the only sound she allowed herself to acknowledge the splitting pain in the side of her head. Marco sat beside her, crying softly, and Nick and camo man were engaged in a serious argument. Neither of them was paying any mind to her.

  In an instant, she pulled her pant leg up and freed the handgun, flipping off the safety the way Brady had taught her. Apparently, that was a sound bad guys recognized, because now she had their complete attention.

  “You don’t want to do that, Mac.” Nick raised both hands in a cautious gesture.

  Camo man wasn’t that smart. With a scornful sneer, he rushed her. She fired once and saw him jerk, but he kept coming so she fired again. He crumpled just short of her feet. She turned the gun on Nick.

  He had the good sense not to move. With hands still raised, he had an imploring look in his eyes.

  “Don’t hurt Nick.” Marco’s small voice added to her indecision.

  “Mac, we’ve got about two minutes before the rest of those goons come running up here. I know you don’t trust me right now, and I don’t blame you, but if we’re going to get Marco out of this alive, you have to do what I tell you.” Nick dropped his hands.

  “Really? You’re working for Hernandez. Why would I ever do anything you told me again?”

  “Because this isn’t what you think. I don’t work for Ambassador Hernandez. I’m a special agent with the DHS . . . undercover to get enough evidence to clear you of two murders and get the ambassador shipped home for good.”

  “I don’t believe you. Joe would have known, and he’d have told me.” Mac lowered her gun partway, starting to feel the ache in her arm from holding it steady.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal. Through some of his sources, Joe learned I’d been undercover with the ambassador’s entourage for the last two months. When he asked for my help, it was imperative that no one else know. My life depended on it . . . and I’m kind of partial to my life.”

  Shouts sounded from below the Plateau. Nick raised his voice to holler back. “Everything’s okay. Griff had a little accident.”

  Turning back to Mac, he said, “For the record, I didn’t know Hernandez had planned this tonight. He’s reckless and power-happy, and he thinks he can do anything he wants—anytime. I didn’t get a heads-up until they were already inside the fence. Hernandez doesn’t like to be told he’s acting recklessly. As soon as you and I saw them, I sent Joe a text. He knows where we are, so all we have to do is stay alive until he gets here. That’s where you doing what I tell you comes in . . . if you’re done holding that Glock on me.”

  Mac lowered the gun but clenched her fingers tightly around the pistol’s grip and pulled her knees up, leaning her forehead against her legs. She was on information overload. Was he telling the truth? His story sounded plausible. She wanted to believe him because the alternative was too ugly. None of the choices available to her were good ones. Either way she was screwed. With a deep sigh, she laid the gun on the ground at her side.

  He brushed her arm as he knelt next to her, lifted her gun, and slid the safety on. Then he handed it to her. “Put this back where you got it, just in case.” He stood and offered her a hand.

  She studied him for a moment. Smart move, giving her the weapon back and lulling her into a false sense of security. But he’d have to do better than that before she trusted him again. “If you’re lying to me and if Marco gets hurt because of it, you’re going to regret the day you met me.”

  He helped her to her feet, one corner of his lips lifting in a grin. “Understood.” Nick ruffled Marco’s hair as Mac took his hand. “That’s the whole idea—getting this little guy home safely.”

  He checked for a pulse on the fallen man and shook his head slightly when she met his gaze. Mac waited for the grief and guilt to hit her, but all she felt was relief. Her lack of remorse didn’t seem to bother her as much anymore.

  The alarm screeched to life again from the compound to the south, echoing off the rocks all around them. A shiver ran the length of her. Someone turned it off within a minute, almost like they were expecting it to be tripped.

  “Hernandez has a second team entering near the house. They’re after Maria, but, if Joe’s team’s reputation is even close to accurate, Hernandez’s misfits don’t have a prayer.” Nick’s words were reassuring, but Mac couldn’t help but worry, especially when the distant gunfire reached her ears.

  Nick led her and Marco toward the western edge of the Plateau. “Remember, Mac. When we join the others, I’ll be one of them. That means I’ll say whatever I have to in order to keep us alive. It’s important you follow my lead, and try not to piss anybody off.” He stopped and slipped his hand around Marco’s arm. “You too, buddy. I know it’s hard to understand, but you just need to trust me. Okay?”

  “I trust you, Nick.” Marco looked into his eyes with complete faith.

  Nick guided them to a cut in the rock table leading to a steep trail that dropped quickly to the mountain slope below. As they reached fairly level ground, Mac swept Marco into her arms. No way any of those creeps were touching him.

  The smell of smoke got her attention, but the men laughing and swearing increased Mac’s anxiety level. Were they so sure of themselves that they’d started a fire? As Mac, Marco, and Nick approached the last rock outcropping that shielded them from the enemy’s view, Nick gripped her arm. Even knowing why he did it, her first reaction was to jerk away from him.

  He must have sensed her tension. “Easy. It’ll be over before long.”

  As the group of men at the bonfire noticed them, they stared, and then their swearing turned into lewd remarks. Mac stumbled, but Nick helped to right her before she lost her footing. One of the men separated himself from the rest and strode toward her.

  “Well, Ms. McCallister, we meet again, and you brought my son to me.” Hernandez stretched out his arms. “Come, Marco. Let’s get reacquainted.”

  Marco refused to look at him and snuggled tightly into Mac. She backed away until Nick’s arm stopped her. Hernandez’s hands dropped, and a black fury twisted his face. So much for not pissing anybody off. “Marco needs time to adjust, Ambassador.” She hoped her voice was more conciliatory than scornful.

  The effort it took for Hernandez to force down his rage was clearly evident on his red face. “Of course. You’re right. There’ll be time to get to know each other later.” He turned toward Nick. “Wh
ere’s Griff?”

  Nick shoved his thumbs in his front pockets. “I told you some of these men were trouble, Ambassador. Griff tried to assault Mac right in front of your son. When I suggested he wait, the bastard tried to draw on me. I had no choice.”

  The tension was palpable as the two faced each other. Finally, Hernandez nodded and turned toward the fire. “Make Ms. McCallister and my son comfortable for the night.”

  After he walked away, Mac glanced at Nick. He reached for her arm again, and she set Marco on his feet, gripping his hand firmly. Nick led them to a spot up against a boulder. It was outside the ring of men surrounding the bonfire, but the heat reached them and radiated off the rocks at their backs. Nick strode into the center of the men, took two blankets from their stash, and brought them to Mac and Marco.

  “You did good keeping Hernandez from getting angry, Mac. Keep it up.” He patted her arm and swiped a finger down Marco’s nose, then strode closer to the fire and found a spot to sit.

  Mac wrapped a blanket around herself and the other around Marco. Not exactly the way she’d wanted to spend the night, but at least they were warm. Besides, the way she wanted to spend it was no longer open to her, since she’d pushed Brady out of her life. Best to put that brief episode behind her. There were far more pressing things to worry about.

  A shiver ran across her shoulders and up her neck. She jerked her gaze toward the east. Nick, Hernandez, and his four men were passing a bottle around while one of them told a story. No one was paying any attention to her or Marco. Yet she had the strangest feeling that someone watched her.

  After a while, one of the men stood, picked up his rifle, and entered the stand of timber behind him. The others carried on the conversation for several minutes before his absence was apparently felt.

  “Carlos has been gone too long.” Nick addressed the observation to Hernandez. “I’ll go see what’s keeping him.”