“I’m afraid not, sir,” Peterson replied, sitting beside him.
“My man can’t get close to it. Andreakos and that McNamara fellow are monitoring it at all times. I told him to do whatever he has to do to slow them down. You need to call Baxter. We’ll be joining him shortly. He’s in charge of the second group, and we’re coordinating an ambush for Andreakos. We have to head them off long enough for Nelan to find that girl.” Vandergriff pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did they pull this off?”
He said he’d catch me.
The girl hadn’t known where he was taking her until the last moment. She had to get in touch with the bounty hunter from the plane. How?
Underwood indicated that the GPS unit was with the bodyguard. There was no way the girl could’ve gotten to the radio, no way that Andreakos had turned both Peterson and Cahill.
Vandergriff buried his face in his hands and leaned over, pulling the skin around his eyes taut to try to stop that damnable twitching so he could think.
He spotted a little silver phone lying on the floor beside Peterson’s shoe.
Vandergriff dove to pick it up, startling Peterson. He grabbed it and waved it in Peterson’s face.
“Is this yours?” he asked.
“Uh, no, sir.”
“Is it Cahill’s?”
Peterson frowned, then shook his head. “Cahill didn’t have a cell phone with him. He borrowed mine to call you when we stopped for fuel.”
Vandergriff flipped open the phone and stared at the numbers. Then he squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to get a premonition from touching it.
“This is how she contacted them. If I press redial, I get Andreakos on the other end of the line.” Vandergriff gritted his teeth. “Maybe I should call him and tell him what I’m going to do with his precious little girl when I get my hands on her again.”
When his thumb moved for the button, Peterson grabbed his wrist.
“Wait! I think I know how we can use this to our advantage.”
Vandergriff stared at him. “What do you mean?”
Peterson shot him a crooked grin. “Why, I think I should be the one to call Andreakos. I talked to his daughter on the plane. I was nice to her. We have a connection.”
“What are you getting at?” Vandergriff asked irritably, pressing his fingers against the sides of his eyes.
Peterson shrugged and leaned back in the seat. “Your man on the inside … suppose he isn’t your only contact with Andreakos? I could tell Andreakos that I liked Nadia, and I’m sorry for what happened … and that I’ll do everything I can to help him get her back. I’ll agree to spy on you. I could be his new best friend.”
Vandergriff gave an incredulous laugh. “Peterson, that’s amazing. Really, it is.” He frowned and shook his head. “But Andreakos is no fool. Why should he believe you?”
Peterson pressed his hands together in front of his face like he was praying, then he dropped them and smiled. “We give up your spy.”
“What? Are you crazy?” Vandergriff demanded, jumping to his feet. “I can’t give him Underwood … a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Andreakos may never trust you, and I will have lost my only edge.”
“Let me do it right before the attack! Your spy is useless after he leads them into the ambush. And you said yourself, they won’t let him anywhere near the GPS. What good is he to you?”
Vandergriff stared at the phone. Peterson was right. Maybe there was something he could use here. Although he hoped for the best, he didn’t really think he could kill Andreakos in the fray. Too many men around him. This might be his next best shot.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “But not until we’re ready for the attack.”
“When will that be?” Peterson asked, and Vandergriff shook his head.
“I like you, Peterson. You show great initiative, but I learned early from my father to never reveal all my plans to any one man.” He squinted at him. “Now that I think about it, you seem awfully eager to help me. Why is that?”
Peterson snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m awfully eager to help me. That girl embarrassed me. She escaped under my watch, so I feel like it’s my responsibility to get her back.”
Vandergriff pocketed the phone and clamped a hand on Peterson’s shoulder. “Come on then. We’ve got a lot to decide before you make that call.”
They sprinted toward the shaft and Dante wrenched her back inside an instant before the sand and pebbles began striking the outside of the shaft.
“Dust devil,” he explained, folding her against his chest. “That stuff’s a bitch if you get it in your eyes.”
Nadia listened to the rocks beat against the wall for a moment, then yawned and rested her face against Dante’s T-shirt. Some of her adrenaline had melted away and now she simply felt tired. It was nice, leaning there against him. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle thump of his heart.
“It’s over,” Dante announced, and gently smacked her rear. “Let’s move.”
Nadia groaned and reluctantly pushed away from him. She was moving through the entryway when he grabbed her arm.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered.
Nadia immediately glanced back into the mine shaft. “Hear what? Is the cat back?”
“No. Out there.”
For a long moment, she heard nothing. Then there it was. A faraway buzzing sound.
“Motorcycles,” she said.
“Maybe it’s your father.”
“Maybe not,” Nadia replied, watching Dante pull a two-by-four away from the entryway.
“You have a gun,” she pointed out.
He grinned. “Gee, you’re a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
She made a face. “Yeah, I tend to get that way when I’m dirty, sleepy, and hungry.”
“If it’s your father, they should come straight to us.” Dante tapped the device on his wrist.
Nadia peered out the entryway. “Let’s check it out,” she said, and moved into the sunlight.
The heat beat down on her bare shoulders and her clothing stuck to her. The hill they’d slid down blocked their view of the motorcyclists. With Dante on her heels, Nadia scrambled up the rocky surface.
“We can’t let them see us,” Dante whispered as they neared the top.
“Gee, you think?” Nadia rolled her eyes. She was near the top now. Crawling on her stomach on the rough red rocks, she peeked over the top of the hill.
And found herself straight in the path of an incoming motorcycle.
She could see the grooves of the treads as the front tire of the motorcycle spun toward her head.
Rolling to the right, Nadia felt a blast of hot exhaust when the motorcycle sliced through the air inches from her face. The machine was airborne, hanging in the air above the hillside and Nadia could only gape at it. It came down gracefully at the bottom of the hill. Its blond rider kept going.
He hadn’t even seen them.
While she was processing that fact, another motorcycle topped the hill, spraying her with a fine mist of sand and pebbles. She heard the rumble of an engine. Another one was coming and it sounded too close—
Dante seized her and they tumbled backward, down the steep incline.
Movement. Dust. The pain of the rocks scraping against her skin. That was all Nadia was conscious of during their breakneck slide. The thump at the bottom stunned her, stole her breath, but she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Dante was up and running.
Nadia shook her head. How was he still moving? Even her teeth hurt.
She was beginning to wonder if he was some sort of robot. If he was, she was going to order herself two of them.
While she watched, Dante scrambled for the two-by-four he’d left at the foot of the hill. One of the motorcycles had turned. It was heading right for him. Dante waited on it, poised like a crazed matador.
The other rider. He had to have seen them. Where had he gone?
He
came roaring around the side of the hill, also heading straight at Dante. Nadia saw the gun in his hand. She recognized his face through the open helmet.
It was one of the thugs from the diner.
Nadia scanned the ground, searching for any kind of weapon. In her desperation, she seized a rock about the size of her fist and chunked it at him. It caught him square in the back.
The cyclist bobbled and turned to glance at her. Scraping her knuckles against the ground, Nadia grabbed another one, not daring to take her eyes off the rider. She hurled another missile at him. This time she missed by a foot, but at least she had diverted his attention from Dante. He changed directions, heading toward her, but he stuck his gun back in the holster. Nadia got the message.
Vandergriff wanted her alive.
You’ve got one more shot, she told herself. Make it solid, make it true.
Closing her fist around the smooth, hot stone, Nadia let it fly. The rock caught the man in the center of his throat. Stunned, she watched him topple off the bike. His handgun went flying in one direction and the unmanned motorcycle veered off in another.
“Dante!” she shouted.
Nadia retrieved the gun and chased after the wildly careening motorcycle. It crashed against the bank and lay on its side, wheels spinning. As she ran, Nadia heard the other motorcycle bearing down on her. But there was nowhere left for her to go.
“Nadia! Nadia, get on.”
Dante slowed beside her and she threw herself on the back of the bike, almost losing the gun in the process.
“Wicked fastball!” he shouted, while she righted herself. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, princess.”
Nadia clutched his waist, grinning. Then she saw the crimson stain darkening the back of his shirt.
“Your shoulder is bleeding!”
“Yeah, I think I tore it open again. But it’ll be okay.”
The first rider had parked his bike and stood waiting for his companions by the mine shafts. His mouth opened in a surprised O when he saw the couple barreling toward him. Nadia opened fire.
He dove for cover and she emptied the clip into the bike. The front tire exploded as she riddled it with bullets.
“Whooo hoo!” she shouted, and tossed the empty gun into a clump of sagebrush.
“You’re enjoying this too much!” Dante yelled over the roar of the bike. “Now I know how Clyde felt when he hooked up with Bonnie.”
She was still laughing when they crested the top of the next hill.
Dante drove at breakneck speed for several miles, twisting and turning through the hills until he felt sure he’d thrown off any pursuers. He had a stupid smile on his face, even though his shoulder was throbbing.
Nadia was crazy. Brave. Fearless.
The image had burned into his brain. The dark-haired beauty hurling rocks at an armed man to save him. Those wild green eyes. He had finally met a woman who shared his adrenaline addiction.
He just wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing.
“Check out those clouds.” He pointed ahead of them. “It looks like we’re going to see some rain.”
“Rain? In the desert?” she asked, and pressed herself against his back.
“Yeah. I only hope it isn’t too much at once. They have flash floods here sometimes. Wouldn’t that be something to get caught up in?”
Nadia sighed. “The way this day is going, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. I’m an optimist, Dante. I really am, but even I have to wonder if we’re going to make it through this damn day.”
He grinned. “Oh, yeah. We’re going to make it.”
Before the words were out of his mouth, the fuel gauge inched from yellow to red. Dante hoped the reserve was full. He was reaching to flip it over when he saw the bulky structures dotting the landscape ahead.
Nadia’s going to love this, he thought, and leaned back to tell her what was ahead.
“A ghost town!” she screeched, deafening him. She nearly toppled them in her haste to look over his shoulder. “How cool!”
It wasn’t much of a ghost town, just a few haphazard piles of gray rocks and rotting wood that used to be buildings, but Nadia insisted on stopping.
“Watch out for open mine shafts. And rattlesnakes,” Dante warned.
Nadia saluted smartly and skipped off to inspect the ruins.
“What was this?” she asked, pointing at the wide, rusting tin roof that rested on the ground in an inverted V. Whatever structure it had once protected was long gone now. A few dilapidated boards still braced it. More lay scattered on the ground.
“I’d say it was once an old hoist house.”
“Okay … what’s a hoist house?”
“Mining operations used them to protect equipment from the elements, store ore. That sort of thing.”
“Cool,” she said and crawled beneath it.
“Nadia-”
“I know, I know. Be careful.” She crawled back out a moment later and said, “Off with that shirt. I want to check out your shoulder.”
“It’s okay.”
“Don’t argue with me, I’m in a mood,” she warned, and he snickered when he thought of the rock hurling. “And besides, I like ordering you to take off your clothes. Have you got a medical kit in that bag?”
With a sigh, Dante dug it out and handed it to her. He peeled off his shirt and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of her. A hot breeze kicked up the dust around them and Dante shielded his eyes while Nadia gently pulled back the tape to inspect his gunshot wound. She didn’t say anything for such a long time that Dante twisted to look at her.
“What?”
“He shot you with a .22?” she asked finally.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I thought you were shot shot. With a real gun. I mean, what sort of weapon is this for a hired thug? You’d think the guy would have a .44 or something that would do some real damage—”
Dante snorted. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed by the size of the hole in my shoulder, princess. But if it’s any consolation, it really does hurt.”
“Ah, you big baby. Here I thought you ex-Marines ate nails for breakfast. And you know what I meant. It was strictly an observation on technique.”
He grunted.
Nadia cleaned the wound and changed the bandage. “There!” She smoothed the tape in place. “I think you’ll live.”
“Thanks for your compassion. It makes the pain so much more bearable,” he said.
Nadia winked. “What pain? That’s like a paper cut or something … and I told you, I get that way when I’m tired, hungry, and dirty.”
He winced, and pulled a hand down his face. “I’ve seriously got to feed you, don’t I?”
Nadia laughed. “It would be nice.”
Dante rummaged through the backpack and pulled out two brown packets. “MRE’s,” he explained. “Also known as Mr. E’s.”
“MR whats?” Nadia asked, then waved her hand. “Never mind. If it’s food, I’ll eat it. I don’t care what it is.”
“Okay, so do you want possum a la ‘orange or rattlesnake teriyaki?”
“Smart alec.” Nadia smacked the back of his head. She plopped down beside him and seized the packets.
“Hmmm … turkey with savory vegetables or vegetarian pasta fagioli.”
She contemplated it for a moment, then tossed him the turkey. “I don’t really know what this is, but I’ll try anything once.”
Dante watched with amusement as she ripped open the packet and inspected the contents.
“Vegetarian whazzit, crackers, jam—ooh, a chocolate oatmeal cookie—orange beverage base, Tabasco sauce, accessory pack.”
“Army rations. These things have a shelf life of three years.”
“Imagine that,” Nadia said dryly, tearing open the accessory pack. “Salt, pepper, chewing gum—moist towelettes?” She cocked an eyebrow at Dante.
He shrugged.
She started to tear open her packet and he said, “Wait, hand it
here. You’ve got to cook the thing.”
“In what?” she demanded and shoved it into his outstretched hand. “Don’t tell me I have to wait for you to build a fire?”
“Cranky, cranky,” he chided, shaking his finger at her. “It will only take a minute and we don’t have to build a fire.”
He detached a small square from the accessory pack and shook it out. “Flameless, self-heating pouch. You have to pour water in here, up to the fill line—it doesn’t matter if it’s clean water or not—and it causes a chemical reaction, making the water heat, then—”
“Enough with the MacGuyver lesson. Just feed me,” she said, clasping her hands together. Dante laughed at her mugging.
He poured the water in the bag, taking care not to waste any, and dropped Nadia’s entrée packet inside. He zipped it shut and said, “Five minutes. That’s it.”
He took her hand and placed it on the outside of the bag. “See, it’s already getting hot.”
Nadia grunted. Dante fixed his bag and set it beside hers.
“Uhh, that stinks!” she said, fanning herself. “I hope that’s not the food I smell.”
“It’s the chemicals. But don’t get your hopes up on the food. It’s not much better, but it’s protein.”
Nadia was getting antsy by the time he proclaimed it ready. Dante took out his pocketknife and carefully slit the heater, letting the steam escape before withdrawing the food pouch.
It wasn’t exactly piping hot, but it was warm enough. He tore the edge off his turkey packet and squeezed some into his mouth. A skeptical looking Nadia followed suit. He watched with amusement when she swallowed hard and started coughing.
“You okay, princess?” Dante laughed.
He poured water into her beverage packet and handed it to her. She took a big gulp and grimaced.
“Maybe I misunderstood. They give these to our troops or the enemy? “
“Put some Tabasco on it.”
“No way. Then I have to drink more of that orange crap.”
For all her complaining, Nadia polished off her MRE. She saved her chocolate cookie for last, and was regarding it with such delight that Dante couldn’t help laughing. Then he really laughed at the look of surprise on her face when she popped it in her mouth.
In Enemy Hands Page 17