by Robin Perini
“Just hang on.”
Without hesitation, Daniel tied one end of the long whip around the mesquite trunk and secured the other end to his belt to anchor himself. She was so close. If he could only reach her. He leaned toward her and grabbed one hand, but her wet fingers slipped from his grip.
The bark peeled off under her other hand and she closed her eyes, certain she would be swept away when Daniel managed to snag her wrist. His face strained, he began to pull her up, but to her horror, the earth beneath his feet started to crumble. He moved back and dug his heels into the dirt, but his body tilted off balance, leaning at an angle over the flood.
The churning torrent sped just below her feet now, but that could change at any second. A barbed wire fence careened through the water, its wooden stakes and wire a deadly weapon. The debris slammed against the earth. If they fell in, they were dead.
Trouble barked furiously, but the dog could do nothing.
“What are we going to do?” she shouted. Daniel tightened his hold on her wrist.
“I’m going to swing you toward the thicker branches over there. When you land, crawl up the trunk then get as far away from the edge as you can!” Daniel yelled.
She nodded.
“Okay, let go,” he ordered.
With a prayer, she did, putting her life in Daniel’s hand. He groaned and twisted his torso. She swung once, twice. “Now!” he shouted. He let go, and she landed on some thick branches and climbed toward the edge.
Suddenly the dirt shifted beneath Daniel’s feet, and he dropped. He grabbed the whip and started hauling himself up.
Raven had crawled toward the cave but turned back. Trouble grabbed her shirt and pulled, dragging her to safety. She struggled against the dog’s hold. “Daniel!”
“Stay back.” Hand over hand, muscles straining, he clawed his way to the top. More ground gave way. He slid back until he was waist deep in the water. Another tree churned in the flood, heading straight for him.
“Look out!” she yelled.
He twisted just in time for a large branch to slam into his belly. His hands gripped the leather tighter, but the current pummeled him against the dirt and rock. Only the whip kept him from being swept away.
She had to do something.
Raven ran to the cave and dumped out Daniel’s duffel. She found a climbing rope and ran outside, frantically searching for something to tie the cord on to that wasn’t about to be swept away.
Suddenly the whoop-whoop-whoop of rotor blades sounded from above. A wave of air knocked her backwards, and she dropped the rope. A military-style helicopter swooped down toward Daniel.
A man wearing a dark cap and sunglasses leaned out with a weapon and shouted something, then raised his rifle.
“No!” Raven screamed.
Chapter Nine
The helicopter’s blades forced a downdraft that threw Daniel off balance and buffeted him toward the water. Desperate, he grabbed a tree branch, using it and the whip to climb back up. The rotor blast stung his eyes. He tightened his grip, and the leather from the whip cut into his hands, the sting sharp as it bit into his palm. If he let go, he was dead.
What the hell was Noah doing here in the CTC chopper? Elijah fired a few rounds from the semiautomatic out the side door. As the helicopter turned, angling to hover near, Daniel braced himself for another gust then fought against the rush of man-made wind.
Damn idiots were going to drown him.
He couldn’t let go of the whip. He’d fall. No one could survive the swirling water below. He’d be slammed against the rocks at high speed. If the blows didn’t kill him, drowning would.
The helo dove again, really low, almost as if trying to skirt the water. Daniel whipped around to see what they were doing, but Elijah’s attention was far from Daniel.
Elijah’s line of sight led straight to the flat mesa about fifteen feet above the outcropping.
Two figures held automatic weapons pointed directly at Raven.
Daniel crawled higher, and the tree limb bent precariously lower. He had no time left. With a curse he rammed his boot into the broken branches then, hands bleeding, he pulled himself onto solid ground with the whip. His leg throbbed—hell, his whole body did—but he scrambled to Raven. He shielded her, then shoved her into the protection of the cave.
Gunfire peppered the exact spot where she’d been.
He felt Raven’s heart pounding, but no faster than his own. “Stay here.” He grabbed his weapon and bolted to the cave entrance.
Elijah sent off another round of gunfire toward the mesa. Two heads ducked down.
Daniel scanned the terrain for a way to get to the bastards. A small path caught his attention. It might take some climbing. He grasped a handhold, but the sandstone crumbled. With all the rain, he couldn’t count on a good hold. Suddenly the chopper flew up several feet, and Elijah raised his weapon, but before he could fire, a spray of bullets pelted the helicopter. The chopper reeled away, but an arc of fluid spewed from near the tail.
Daniel’s heart stopped as the chopper swiveled out of control and pitched toward the outcropping. They were going down.
Elijah hung on to a safety strap, then with fury in his eyes, sent one last burst of gunfire. A man fell from the mesa to the ground.
Trouble bolted across the terrain at the bleeding man, who crawled toward his weapon.
The man lunged for his gun, but Trouble leaped on him, growling. The dog grabbed hold of the guy’s arm, clamping down. He cursed, twisting against the animal, rolling toward the edge, but Trouble wouldn’t let go.
“Stop,” Daniel called out. “You’re going to fall.” He snagged the dropped rope from the ground at his feet and tossed it at the second gunman.
The guy ignored him, trying to break the dog’s tight grip.
The man struggled to stand, but the ground gave way. He and Trouble tumbled into the rage of water.
“Trouble!” Raven ran toward the cave opening. A loud explosion rent the air, and a blast of heat seared the cave.
Oh, God, had Noah and Elijah made it out?
“Stay put. I have to check the helicopter!” Daniel shouted, waving Raven back. “There’s a second gunman.”
Raven’s frantic gaze whipped around, taking in the horrific fireball. In the distance, a motorcycle engine revved, then faded away.
Daniel raced to the wash’s edge, searching for Noah and Elijah. The only way they would have survived was if they had jumped into the floodwaters. Some choice. Burn or drown.
He caught sight of Noah’s dark head bobbing, then Elijah’s blond one. They fought to reach a long flat rock perched a third of the way into the wash. There was a small plateau nearby, just above water level. If Noah and Elijah could get to it, they might have a chance.
Daniel whirled around. “We need another rope...”
Raven was already digging into his duffel. She pulled out the second climbing rope.
“Hurry,” he said. “They don’t have much time.”
Daniel and Raven raced along the crumbling edge of the wash, and he searched the chaotic maelstrom.
Trouble’s body was wedged against a thick log, and he struggled to stay afloat.
“Trouble!” Raven screamed.
“I see him. He’s heading for the rock.”
“We have to help him,” she said, then her face paled, and her hand clamped to her mouth. “Is that Noah?” Raven asked, pointing.
Daniel followed her gaze. A dark-headed man’s body bobbed facedown in the water. Noah? It couldn’t be. Not after surviving four tours and countless missions.
The man’s body smashed off a rock and flipped onto his back. Daniel l
et out a relieved sigh. “It’s not him. It’s the shooter who fell from the edge.”
Even at thirty feet, Daniel could tell the gunman was dead. He couldn’t see his eyes, but the guy had barbed wire wrapped around him and a steel rod impaling him through his chest.
“Stand on that rock. You’ll have a good view. Keep Noah and Elijah in your sights and point them out,” Daniel said. “I’m going to help them.”
She gripped his hand. “Be careful. Please.”
“Always, darlin’.” He looped the rope over his shoulder. The water moved fast. If it rose much higher the cave would be flooded, as well. He watched the waves shove a log past. The way looked clear. He had about fifteen feet to get to the levee.
Daniel shoved his feet between rocks trying to get a firm grip. If he slipped, there was nothing to stop him from being swept away. Knees bent, he picked his way as fast as he could, gripping boulders, avoiding debris.
A fence post scraped his arm, but within minutes he’d reached the dry land.
“Daniel!”
Raven pointed at twelve o’clock. Trouble was headed his way. The wet dog clung to the log, but he stared at Daniel.
Daniel maneuvered himself in front of the log, and when the dog got close enough, Daniel grabbed him under his shoulders, falling backward.
Trouble’s legs went out from under him. He whined and licked Daniel’s face.
“You’re welcome.”
Daniel got up and studied the mountains. The clouds still hovered over the peak. He looked at his feet. The levee had narrowed. The water had already risen several inches. Within minutes the one rock jutting out of the wash would be underwater.
Desperate, he searched the churning rapids, then he saw Noah’s dark hair. The man clung to a small rock, but his grip was slipping.
“Noah!”
He couldn’t hear Daniel.
Noah’s grip slipped, and he plunged under the water. Daniel gauged the distance, ready to jump in, but instead of heading toward the rock, the current carried him to the side.
“Damn it.”
Daniel raced down the ten-foot rock. Noah was a few feet away. Daniel took a deep breath and plunged into the churning water. His hand gripped the collar of Noah’s shirt. He grimaced at the weight.
Suddenly Noah’s arm reached around and gripped Daniel’s wrist. He heaved, dragging Noah to safety.
Trouble nosed Noah’s hand, and the man rubbed the wet fur. “That was fun,” he said, his voice full of irony. “Elijah?”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“There!” Raven yelled.
Daniel turned and recognized the man’s sandy blond hair. Trouble let out a frantic bark.
“We can’t reach him.” Noah panted. “He’s too far.”
“But he can grab this.” Daniel uncoiled the rope, forming a lasso. Who knew junior rodeo would come in handy in his life? He had one shot. He eyed the spot, swung the rope and let it fly. The loop landed just in front of Elijah.
If only he would see it. He looked very, very still.
Suddenly Elijah ducked underwater. A large log popped where his head had been. Then a strong tug grabbed the rope. He’d slipped his shoulder into it.
Daniel and Noah pulled on the line, veering the man toward their sinking island. He grabbed the rock and turned over, gasping for air.
“You guys always have this much fun on the job?” he gasped, coughing up some of the muddy water. “Remind me never to agree when you volunteer to pilot that flying gas can,” he grumbled at Noah. “I’ll take the lab any day of the week.”
“Just another day at the office,” Noah joked. “You make a good cowboy,” he said to Daniel.
“We’re not safe yet. The level’s still rising.” Water lapped at Daniel’s feet.
Elijah couldn’t hide his exhaustion.
“Can you make it?” Daniel asked Elijah. He gestured across the rapids.
Elijah nodded, his expression fierce and determined.
Daniel looped the rope around Trouble’s collar, then each man secured the line between them. By the time they’d knotted themselves together, the level had reached their ankles. Trouble had become unsteady. He slipped down and nearly fell in.
“Ready?” Daniel asked.
They nodded. As quickly as possible, they maneuvered across the faster-moving flood. Finally, they reached the edge where Raven stood. Daniel sat back, his legs suddenly feeling the stress of being in thousands of square feet of roaring flood.
Raven dropped beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “God, you scared me.” She tentatively touched his cheek. “You’re hurt.”
“We’re alive,” he said.
“Barely. So let’s not do that again.” Noah scowled at Daniel. “You had to choose this godforsaken place to hide out during a flash flood?”
“It usually doesn’t rain now. There’s been a drought.” He glanced at Raven. “We needed to be near town in case there was a breakthrough.”
Noah’s jaw throbbed. “How’d these guys find you?”
“I don’t know. Not because they followed,” Daniel said. “I made sure of it.”
Elijah brushed some mud off his soaked jeans. “Maybe whoever’s after Raven has a few toys. Satellite locators, listening devices.”
Noah let out a curse. “I bet that’s it. I gave the sheriff your coordinates because I needed to talk to you.”
Raven looked stunned. “You don’t think he’s part of this?”
“I don’t trust anyone right now,” Daniel bit out, wiping his hand across his face. “If the sheriff’s clean, then the perps probably bugged the phones. That would explain why they keep turning up.” Daniel looked over at the raging water. “I wish we could get prints on the gunman. He handled that weapon like he’s shot an automatic weapon before.”
“You think he was military?” Noah asked.
“Yeah. Even hurt, the guy had a few moves.” Daniel glanced down the wash. “I doubt we’ll find his body anytime soon.”
“What do we do now?” Raven asked, slipping her hand into Daniel’s.
“Get out of here.” He panned the landscape. “The second shooter could come back. I’ll use the SAT phone to call the sheriff, pray his line’s not being monitored. He’ll have to arrange to pick us up. I can’t get the four-wheel drive out for days.” Daniel paused. “What were you guys doing out here anyway?”
“We couldn’t get through to the SAT phone,” Noah said. “Maybe the cave blocked the signal?”
“I didn’t want to risk leaving it in the weather.” Daniel cursed. “What was so important that you had to risk this weather? Not that I’m not damn glad you did.”
Elijah met Noah’s gaze, and the look they shared sent a chill of foreboding through Daniel. He tugged Raven up against him.
Her entire body tensed. “You know something, don’t you?” What little color remained drained from her cheeks.
Elijah sucked in a deep breath. “I took the evidence we gathered and ran some preliminary tests. The blood on the toy box lid and the carpet was yours. So far I can’t identify the other blood sample, but we’re checking databases.” He shifted. “I got curious about the hair from the locket so I tested it. The results are...surprising.”
“Tell me,” Raven pleaded.
“According to the DNA, the baby in the locket is not you, Raven. She’s not your child, either. In fact, she’s not related to you at all. But she is related to your attacker.”
* * *
THE HOSPITAL LOOMED on the horizon. Christopher skid the dirt bike into the parking lot. He fought to pull the key out, then yanked off his helmet. They’d killed Tad. His only friend. The sole person who understood him.
The damn weapon Christopher had used had jammed. That bitch
should be dead—her and the meddling men she’d somehow collected.
Just like a woman to ruin everything.
Christopher shoved the kickstand of his bike in place and glared at the saddlebag where he had hid the weapon. He’d toss the thing later. A ballistics specialist could trace the bullets he’d managed to fire back to this gun. For now he had to figure out how to get rid of the woman. He had to fix this.
He stared up at the hospital. When his mother had called to tell him his sister was here, he couldn’t believe it. She’d looked perfectly fine when he’d seen her. Rosy cheeks, healthy. Even better than the pictures he’d received while in Afghanistan. What had happened?
He didn’t need this now. His mom could be so stupid and gullible. She’d been oblivious to his dad’s lovers, his businesses, the illegals crossing their land for a fee. She wasn’t capable of taking care of herself, so he was stuck with her.
He stomped into the hospital, mud clinging to his combat boots. His expression set, he ignored the fearful looks when he crossed the lobby to the elevator. Let them think what they liked. He hit the up button. The lit numbers above the doors crept down. Eight, seven...
Too slow. To hell with this. He stalked across the tiled floor and yanked the staircase door open. Then, taking two steps at a time, he rushed to the third floor and burst onto the pediatrics ward.
A nurse glared at him, then held her finger to her lips. He scowled at her, and she paled. Could she see her death in his eyes? He felt angry enough to kill anyone in his way.
Damn Tad. Why’d he have to get shot?
A floor-to-ceiling mural of giant bears with balloons grinned at him from the wall. He hated bears. If he had had his gun with him now, he would have strafed it.
He made his way down the hallway, looking for room three-fifteen. He stopped outside the oncology unit. Oncology couldn’t be right. Three-fifteen was in the cancer ward? What the hell was wrong with Christina?
Bile rose in his throat, and he opened the door. His mother sat in a chair next to one of the room’s cribs. Christopher looked down at the tuft of black hair and pale face of the baby in the crib.