Footprints in the Snow

by Cassie Miles

  She would never cooperate even if it meant losing her own life. Fermi’s knowledge and research were essential to the Manhattan Project, the development of the atomic bomb. Turning him over to another country meant they, too, would have the necessary technology.

  They didn’t need to kidnap Fermi. All too soon, the Soviets would harness atomic energy and build their own bombs. Proliferation was inevitable.

  A cruel sneer lifted the corner of his mouth. A gleam in his eyes suggested that he was enjoying her vulnerability. “You will die,” he repeated.

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “If you think this is an empty threat, you are wrong. My men are expert snipers, and we are well armed. From the cover of the forest, we will kill many soldiers.” He leaned close to her face, forcing her to look at him. “I think the first to die will be Sergeant Rawlins.”

  Not Luke. He didn’t deserve an anonymous death from a sniper’s bullet, didn’t deserve to die at all. He’d been through enough.

  Her emotions must have shown on her face because the spy said, “You care for this man. You hope to spare his life. Perhaps my men should shoot him now. To show you I am serious.”

  She swallowed hard. Her throat ached from the pressure he’d applied earlier. Somehow, she had to find the courage to face this man. The only way to protect Luke was to conceal her true feelings. “The sergeant means nothing to me.”

  “To me, he is a problem.”

  “Is that why you came after us on the pass? Was your mission to attack Sergeant Rawlins?”

  “To eliminate him. And the others.”

  The others? He must have been referring to Henry and Martin. What could they have done to earn the hatred of this foreign spy? “Why?”

  “You are asking questions,” he said. “I warned you not to ask.”

  Again his hand closed on her throat. This time, he didn’t apply pressure, but the threat was clear. Though he had succeeded in frightening her, she couldn’t allow him to see her fear. Drawing on a strength she never knew she had, Shana shoved aside his hand. “Permit me one more question.”

  “Yes.”

  “If I deliver Fermi to you, what’s in it for me?”

  “You want a reward?”

  “Of course, I want to be paid.”

  Again, she considered fighting back. Her arms were free. She could jam the heel of her hand against his ugly chin and lash out with a karate chop to his throat. But she had no leverage. To make any kind of attack, she needed to change her position on the bed, to get her legs under her as a base.

  “Get off me,” she said, trying to sound irritated as she fluffed the covers and curled her legs underneath her. “Fermi is a valuable asset, and you need me to get him alone. I want payment.”

  He stood. “Your life is payment enough.”

  “Not if I’m captured by the G.I.’s at Camp Hale. I’ll be hanged as a traitor.”

  “You will be taken care of.”

  He took another step away from her bed, and she saw the automatic pistol in his hand. If she attempted to lash out, he’d shoot her. Any thought of physical resistance drained from her mind. Her only protection was her words. And her logic.

  Since he thought she was a spy, she needed to start acting like one. Imperiously, she snapped, “If you’re not going to pay me, you might as well shoot me now. I must have a reward.”

  “You will be paid.”

  Her heart pumped furiously. Every nerve in her body was tense. With supreme self-control, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “Now,” she said. “I demand half now.”

  His expression darkened, and she feared that she’d pushed too hard. He might choke her again. Or worse.

  “You make demands,” he said, “of me.”

  “Earlier, you asked who I work for,” she said. “The answer is simple. I’m a mercenary. I work for the highest bidder.”

  “I understand.” He reached into the pocket of his parka and removed a letter-size envelope, which he tossed into the center of the bed.

  The fact that he’d had the payment ready and waiting made her think she’d made the right move. He believed her bluff about being a mercenary.

  “If you have deceived me,” he said, “you will die.”

  Turning on his heel, he exited and closed the door behind him.

  Shana made it to the bathroom before she vomited. With a sob, she collapsed on the cold tile floor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke left another bar and returned to the sidewalk where he’d been pacing for almost two hours. At various times through the night, he’d sensed that he was being watched, but no one had confronted him. His plan to draw the spies into the open hadn’t worked.

  He spotted someone running down Main Street toward him. His fingers closed around the gun in his pocket, and he braced himself.

  “Sergeant!” It was the bellboy from the hotel. His suit coat flapped around his skinny body like bat wings. Breathing hard, he came to a stop a few steps away from Luke. “I saw one of the guys you’re looking for.”

  “Where?”

  “The hotel,” he said. “Hotel Jerome.”

  “Checking in?”

  The kid shook his head. “Going up the stairs.”

  Toward the third floor. Toward Shana’s room. But that was impossible. The Russians wouldn’t know where she was staying…unless she told them.

  He turned to the bellboy. “You did good.”

  “I hope so.” He shook himself. “Because my girlfriend is going to kill me for leaving her alone at the prom.”

  Luke stalked down the street with the bellboy at his side. “Suppose this bad guy wanted to find out who was staying in which room. How could he get that information?”

  “It’s easy,” the kid said. “All you gotta do is call the switchboard operator and ask.”

  Hotel security was lax. There wasn’t a detective on duty. And tonight, with the prom underway, the lobby was hectic, filled with people coming and going.

  When Luke stepped through the door of the Hotel Jerome, he patted the kid’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’ve got it from here.”

  “Anytime, Sergeant.”

  He took the stairs two at a time. His pistol was in his hand. He dreaded opening the door to Shana’s room, fearing that his most dire suspicions were true, that she was a spy who consorted with the enemy.

  The lock on her door showed scratch marks as though it had been tampered with. It was unlocked. The handle turned easily in his grasp. Gun in hand, he charged inside.

  The bedside lamp was on. Shana sat up in the bed with her knees drawn up and her back pressed against the headboard. The moment she saw him, she threw aside the covers and bolted toward him, diving into his arms with such force that he crashed into the door as it closed.

  “Thank God, you’re here.” Her voice quavered. “I was afraid. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  His arms encircled her, and he rested his cheek against her silky black hair. He ought to suspect her, ought to sit her down and make her give him the answers. The whole goddamned truth. But all he wanted was to comfort and protect her.

  From the first time he saw her in trouble on the slopes, he had sensed that she needed him. A few hours ago, she’d told him as much. She needed him…and only him. No other man could fulfill her.

  As her body molded perfectly to his, his eyelids closed, and he realized that he needed her, as well. Even though he knew next to nothing about her, she somehow managed to fill all the empty spaces in his life.

  He stroked her shoulders. Through his gloves, he massaged the taut muscles in her back and traced the ridge of her spinal cord. Her frame was as delicate as a bird—a lovely graceful creature who might teach him how to fly. If only he could trust her.

  Her arms loosened and she leaned back in his arms, gazing up at him with her shining brown eyes. “One of the Russians was here. In my room.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “I’m okay.” Her hand went to her
neck and lightly touched the hollow at the base of her throat. “I have something to show you.”

  The moment she stepped out of his embrace, he wanted her back. But he forced his arms to drop loosely to his sides.

  She went to the foot of the bed and picked up an envelope. With trembling fingers, she held it toward him. “That’s supposed to be my first payment for betraying Dr. Fermi.”

  “Come again?”

  “That Russian spy, that bastard, thought he could pay me off.”

  He noted that the envelope was still sealed. “You didn’t open it.”

  “Blood money,” she said. “It disgusts me. I’m no traitor.”

  With all his heart, he wanted to believe her. But the evidence to the contrary couldn’t be ignored. She’d had a conference with the bad guys, and they didn’t kill her. They gave her money instead. “Start at the beginning.”

  “I was asleep. I opened my eyes, and there he was.” Her shoulders trembled. “He thought I was a spy like him. If I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d kill me. So, I lied and told him that I’m a mercenary and wanted money. He must have expected me to say that because he had this envelope already prepared.”

  “What are you being paid to do?”

  “To get Dr. Fermi alone tomorrow morning and to bring him to the edge of the forest outside the main house. If I don’t do it, he’ll kill me and you and a lot of other people. His snipers will open fire on the camp.”

  “From the trees.”

  He turned away from her while he considered this threat from a tactical standpoint. The Russians meant to engage Camp Hale in active warfare—a battle within the boundaries of the United States. A brazen idea. Crazy as hell. And yet, from a tactical standpoint, it might work. Though Luke could move Fermi and the men who were guarding him farther into the camp where they would be out of range from the forest, that meant they’d be inside a maze of vacant barracks. All those empty buildings offered too many places for snipers to hide.

  When he was fighting in the villages of Italy, Luke had seen the complexities of urban combat. A small determined force of elite marksmen had the advantage. They could strike with pinpoint accuracy and disappear before engaging.

  He circled the bed and stood at the edge of the window. Easing the curtain aside, he peeked out at the street below. Some of the teenagers from the prom were on the sidewalk. Their loud, excited chatter floated up toward him, and he wished he could be like them. Carefree. Innocent. With nothing more to worry about than a prom.

  Had he ever been that young? Even before he was a G.I., he’d always been fighting, overcoming odds. It didn’t look as if he’d be getting a reprieve any time soon. “I need to get Fermi out of there. Immediately.”

  She nodded vigorously. “It’s the only way.”

  Tomorrow morning, he would telephone Captain Hughes and tell him. Fermi and the other scientists needed to be evacuated. “Easier said than done.”

  “I don’t see a problem,” she said. “Load Dr. Fermi and the others into a jeep and drive south until you get to Los Alamos.”

  “There are only three roads that lead away from Camp Hale,” he said. “You saw what happened when we went over Independence Pass. The snipers could be waiting for us, setting up an ambush.”

  “What about a helicopter?”

  He could probably get some kind of aircraft from Lowry Air Base in Denver, but that required orders, requisitions and red tape. The process could take a couple of days. The trick would be to keep Fermi safe until then.

  “When did the Russian say you were supposed to deliver Fermi?”

  “Day after tomorrow. In the morning.” She cocked her head to one side. “Seems weird to do it in the morning. I’d have thought nighttime would be better.”

  “The guards are doubled at night,” he said, “and Fermi is safely tucked away in his bed. In the morning, he’s itching to get outdoors.”

  “So that’s a more logical time to grab him.”

  Though she’d appeared to be terrified when he first came into the room and he wanted to believe her, he had questions. He went to the bed, sat down beside her and took both of her hands in his. “This is important, Shana. Tell me how the Russian knew where you were.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But have you communicated with anyone?”

  “Of course not.”

  He glanced at the telephone on the bedside table. She could have made a call when she was up here alone. “The truth, Shana.”

  “Do you suspect me?” She pulled her hands away from him and folded her arms below her breasts. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m trying like hell to believe what you’re saying, but you’re not giving me much help. I turn my back for a minute, and you’re conferring with the enemy. Taking a payment from them.”

  “You’re way off base.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m sick and tired of playing games with you.” He tore off his gloves and threw them on the dresser. “You have no valid identifica tion. You appeared out of nowhere. There’s no one we can call to verify who you are.”

  “I explained all that.”

  “Amnesia? Contacts in Kuwait? You really expect me to buy that load of malarkey?”

  “You know I’m not working with the bad guys.” Her fists pounded against her thighs, emphasizing each word. “I want Dr. Fermi to be safe.”

  “Then tell me the truth.” The time had come to tear away all her flimsy deceptions. He unbuttoned his jacket, removed the pistol from his pocket and set it on the bedside table. “People don’t appear out of thin air with no history or connection to anyone else.”

  “What if I did?”

  “Level with me, Shana.”

  She hopped off the bed and paced on the carpet in front of him. Though her long underwear was baggy in the butt, the fabric hugged her slender waist. Her lips twitched as if she was struggling to find the right words. Abruptly, she faced him and blurted. “I’m from another time.”

  “Another time?”

  “The next millennium,” she said. “I don’t know how or why I landed here in 1945, but it happened in the blizzard. There was all that cold and the swirling snow and the cabin and you and—”

  “Stop.” He held up his hand to stop the words that spewed from her lips in a geyser of craziness. Of all the excuses he’d heard from her, this was the most far-fetched. The most ridiculous. “You want me to believe you traveled through time.”

  “It’s the truth.” She exhaled a quick sigh. “And it’s a relief to finally say it. I came backward in time. The birth date on my International Driver’s License is accurate—1974. That’s when I was born.”

  Under the sign of the cuckoo. What comic book did she waltz out of? He would have laughed out loud, but her eyes were serious.

  “Think about it,” she urged him. “My fiberglass skis. My poles and bindings. Even my clothes are made from fabrics you’ve never seen before. Oh yeah, and the cell phone.”

  “Weird stuff,” he agreed. But none of her gadgets proved that she came from the future.

  “The real reason I know about Fermi is that his experiments are a success. He and the other scientists at Los Alamos have built a bomb that’s capable of decimating an entire city. The first test will take place in two months. There will be a mushroom-shaped cloud.”

  “One bomb that can destroy a whole city?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “The war in Europe is almost over. Hitler will commit suicide in his bunker in Berlin. The war in Japan will end after two of Fermi’s atomic bombs are dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.”

  “And the cities are destroyed.”

  She dropped her gaze. “Since I’m telling you the truth, I’m not sure how I feel about those bombs. So many people will die. What if I was sent back in time to prevent the bomb from being dropped?”

  “Right,” he said dryly. “You were sent back in time to save the world.”

  She groaned. “That sounds even crazier than if I dropped
here by accident. But I keep thinking there has to be a reason, an explanation. It’s significant that I met Fermi. And that I met you.”

  “Why me?”

  “Our first night together…”

  Her voice faded to stillness. After her wild ramblings, the silence was sweet relief. He should have known better than to challenge her identity. This was her secret, and she’d never tell him the truth.

  Quietly, she said, “That night was different. I’ve never felt like that before. Swept away. It seemed like a fantasy.”

  When she gazed up at him through her thick lashes, his memory flooded with images, one on top of the other. It had been a night he would never forget. But he didn’t believe in magic or science fiction. Time travel?

  “Please,” she whispered, “you’ve got to believe me.”

  He glanced toward the unopened envelope. Her supposed payoff. At least, she’d been forthcoming about what the Russian spy expected of her. “Here’s what I can believe. You’re honestly concerned about Fermi. His safety.”

  “And yours,” she said. “The Russian wants you dead. He said you were a problem for him. And he also threatened Henry and Martin.”

  “You’re joking.”

  She shook her head, sending a ripple through her long black hair. “I wish I was. The reason he came after us on the pass was to eliminate you and them.”

  He couldn’t imagine Henry and Martin—a couple of knuckleheads—causing any sort of serious espionage problem. Those two could barely manage to walk and chew gum at the same time.

  “We should find them,” Shana said. “We need to make sure they’re okay.”

  “We?”

  “If you think I’m going to let you go out on the street by yourself, you’re crazier than I am.”

  “Not likely,” he said. “Being crazier than you is one hell of a stretch, lady.”

  “I’m telling the truth.”

  Slowly, he rose from the bed. “I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to pretend that you never said a word about time travel and the next millennium. You’ve got some kind of deep, dark secret. Fine. Keep it. Don’t tell me how you got here. Don’t tell me why. Above all, don’t tell me any more lies.”