She squinted through the darkness along the unsealed farm track ahead of her. She remembered riding along it on dirt bikes with Ross and his brother, but her ability to pick out any familiar landmarks was hindered by the lack of moonlight.
Occasional flashes of lightning helped her to gauge her surroundings as the storm retreated across the horizon. A blanket of purple and white light illuminated the sky for a few precious seconds, and Nina’s attention shot to the right.
A large building appeared in the gloom, set against the undulating hillside.
A barn.
Her mind made up, she eased the throttle back, changed down a gear, and steered the bike across a narrow muddy path.
‘Where the hell are you going?’
She ignored the shout from behind her, and the expletives that followed it, and instead concentrated on threading the motorbike along the ruts and furrows that cut through the track.
Nina ducked as a thin, low-hanging branch swung into view at the last minute, Kyle cursing behind her when he copied her a second too late as she wove the bike through the debris covering their path.
Up ahead, she could see a large silhouette looming above them, blocking out the lightning that still coursed through the sky behind it.
The track levelled out, and she throttled up, eager to reach her destination.
The barn looked more decrepit than it had when she was a teenager, but the roof looked intact, and the walls were solid enough.
‘Get the door,’ she called over her shoulder as she brought the bike to a standstill.
She ignored the cursing from her passenger as Kyle crawled from the seat and made his way towards the building.
She squinted through the rain as he approached the barn, a moment of panic surging through her as she wondered if Ross’s father now kept it locked.
She exhaled as Kyle pushed the door open wide enough to get the motorbike through and drove forward, ignoring his glare as she passed him and entered the wide empty space.
The dirt floor was dry under the wheels, and she relaxed a little. Turning the bike so that they could leave quickly if they needed to, she slipped the gears into neutral and killed the engine.
An ancient aroma of disused rusting machinery, neglected and worn, filled the dark space. Dust filled the air, and Nina coughed as the spores began to seep into her lungs.
Kyle slammed the door shut, pulled a wooden beam across to act as a lock, and then peered through the gap in the boards. Once satisfied they hadn’t been followed, he swung round to face her and pulled out the flashlight from under his jacket. He angled the beam to the floor so as not to blind her. ‘Why the hell have we stopped?’
Nina ignored the remark, removed her helmet, and began to wring out her wet hair. She flicked her hands to lose the moisture and tried to fight down the tightness that was beginning to manifest in her lungs.
‘I asked you a question,’ said Kyle, and moved in front of her, glowering.
Nina took a step back at the look in his eyes, his fury boring into her. ‘I’m exhausted,’ she said. ‘I need a moment to get my breath back.’ She held her hands up. ‘Just give me a minute.’
His jaw clenched, frustration oozing from every pore, but she stared at him, waiting for his acceptance. ‘Okay. Ten minutes, no more,’ he said, and spun on his heel.
Nina sighed with relief, her lungs rattling. Her breathing was worsening, the dust and grain spores in the building adding to her discomfort.
She’d been struggling since she’d returned to the valley days ago, the mountain range acting as a trap for the smog and pollutants in the air. With no rain to clear the atmosphere until that afternoon, the air had become static, slowly breaking down her resistance.
Now, she berated herself for not carrying her inhaler as she had when she was a teenager.
She bit back tears that threatened to fall. Sheer frustration filled her, the thought that if she’d remained on the coast, she wouldn’t have trouble breathing, the cleaner sea air a respite from her childhood health issues.
And the fact that she wouldn’t have become involved in whatever was going on in Mistake Creek, and maybe – just maybe – Ross would still be okay.
She leaned forward as the tightness took over her chest and tried to call out to Kyle as she doubled over, wheezing.
20
‘Nina, what’s wrong? What’s happening?’
Kyle dashed forward and put his arm around her shoulder.
Within seconds, her demeanour had changed from temperamental to one of panic, her breathing laboured. Her eyes were wide, frightened, as he leaned down to her.
‘Is it an asthma attack?’
She nodded mutely and held her hand up to him.
He let her concentrate on her breathing, but it seemed a fruitless exercise. Her face was turning pale, and she was beginning to shake.
‘Where’s your inhaler?’ he demanded. ‘I’ll get it for you.’
‘Truck stop,’ she gasped.
He swallowed, the reality of the situation hitting him hard. He had never had to deal with an asthma attack, but he knew they could be fatal. He kept his face and voice calm, not wishing to alarm the woman in front of him.
‘Here,’ he said, coaxing her into a sitting position. ‘Don’t panic. I’m here.’
His words belied his own emotions. He had no idea what to do. His mind worked overtime, trying to remember anything he’d read or learned about asthma attacks. They could kill, he knew, depending on the person’s frailty and the state of their lungs.
He thought of the damp air Nina had been subjected to for the past two hours, the physical exertion she’d endured, and cursed the dust and mildew that peppered the air in the barn they were now sheltering in.
He waited until Nina had sat on the floor and then joined her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, trying to keep her warm.
Her lungs rattled with the effort of seeking oxygen, and Kyle fought down his own panic, instead conjuring up words to soothe her, hoping that his voice would keep her calm so that the attack didn’t worsen.
The phrases seemed alien to him, removed from his usual tendency to bark orders or respond in monosyllables.
He closed his eyes and listened to Nina breathing, and he tried to recall the last time he’d been this close to someone. The shock hit him hard as he realised it had been more than a year.
He shuffled around her until he could see her face, and waited until her gaze found his. ‘I’m not going anywhere. It’ll be okay.’
His mind spun. He had no idea how long an asthma attack could last – or whether this one would be fatal. He could see that Nina was trying her hardest not to panic, but her breathing was becoming shallower by the minute.
He couldn’t imagine the terror she must be feeling.
His emotions ran from frustration at the time he was losing to the thought that the feisty woman he’d met at the truck stop who had helped him escape could be so weakened by her lungs fighting for air.
He swallowed, remembering his promise to Ross that he’d keep her safe, and wondered how on earth he was going to complete his mission and keep his word.
She slumped in his arms, and Kyle shifted his body, gently lifting Nina’s head so it rested in his lap. He smoothed her hair away from her face, then leaned over and pulled his jacket across the floor before dragging it over her shoulders.
He reached underneath until his hand was between her shoulder blades and began to rub her back, trying to reassure her.
As her ragged breaths shook her body, her fingers wrapped round his other hand, taking him by surprise.
At that moment, he wondered if Nina and Ross had any feelings between them, and regret shook his core. He was so damn tired of being alone.
‘It’s okay, Nina. Just breathe,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve got you.’
***
Nina tried to fight down the panic that threatened to engulf her.
She had a vague sense of Kyle talkin
g to her, his voice different, tender, and the words soothed her.
She reached inside her shirt, rubbing her sternum with her fingertips. She was never sure if the motion worked, but it had been something her mother had always done when she was a child, and the familiarity comforted her.
She wondered how bad the attack would be, and how long it would last. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on squeezing the air into her lungs.
Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, Kyle’s words washing over her.
She wiped at her eyes, fighting down the urge to cry, the despair of leaving Ross behind too much to bear. Crying would make breathing more difficult, and she forced the thought away, instead trying to convince herself that he’d be okay, that somehow he’d survive, that someone would find him and help him.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired, so exhausted.
She cursed her own stupidity for not doing as Ross had told her, for not putting her inhaler in her pocket, and then before she could think anything else, her breathing began to settle, and she closed her eyes, exhausted.
21
Jock Hudson grappled with the door of the farmhouse as a powerful gust of wind whipped the handle from his grip, sending the door slamming into the wall of the passageway.
Stepping over the threshold, his overcoat shedding rivulets of water onto the tiled floor, he pushed the door shut and leaned against it, his breathing laboured.
Forty years of smoking cheap cigarettes were beginning to take their toll – not that he’d ever tell anyone. The added effect of exposure to depleted uranium while serving in the Gulf all those years ago exacerbated the problem. Or so his doctor had told him.
Truth was, they didn’t know whether it was the uranium or the cigarettes that caused the cancer.
All he did know was that it was inoperable, especially as his medical coverage was non-existent, and the army sure as hell wasn’t going to help him now.
He set his jaw.
He wouldn’t give up yet, though. First he had business to take care of, before he dealt with the ugly truth that was death.
Now it was time for the American government to pay for what they’d done to him.
He removed his coat, shook the worst of the water from it, and hung it on a hook near the door, placing his hat above it. He ran his hand through his hair as he moved along the passageway towards the kitchen and the sound of voices.
As he entered the room, the words fell silent, and six expectant faces turned towards him.
He stalked over to the sink, filled a glass with water, and gulped the contents. He wiped his mouth across his sleeve, then swung round and launched the empty glass at the wall next to the table.
It exploded against the plasterwork, shards raining through the air.
The six men at the table raised their arms to cover their faces, the older two grim, while the younger four members of the group tried to hide their fright at the sudden outburst.
Jock’s heavy breathing filled the shocked silence, a thick rasping sound that did little to disguise his fury.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded.
One by one, the men twisted in their seats, brushing slivers of glass from their hair and shoulders and forcing themselves to face their leader’s anger.
‘Now,’ he said, a steely expression in his eyes. ‘Tell me about the fuck-up here. Who the hell betrayed me?’
A nervous cough came from the end of the table. An acne-scarred man in his late twenties leaned forward.
‘John Asher and Kyle Roberts,’ he said. ‘Turns out they were FBI agents.’
Hudson paced the floor. ‘Why didn’t their backgrounds show up when you checked the first time round?’
Sweat broke out across the younger man’s forehead, his eyes darting to the men sitting on either side of him. Almost as one, they leaned back in their chairs, as if to distance themselves from the confrontation.
‘They must’ve been deep cover, sir. Nothing showed up until today – and we’re using the latest systems.’
Hudson waved his hand. ‘Excuses,’ he spat. ‘What happened out there?’
‘Kyle tried to overpower the driver, who luckily had the sense to carry a knife in the cab,’ said an older man, his face solemn. ‘The driver managed to stab Kyle before he escaped.’
‘And John?’ Hudson folded his arms across his chest and stood at the head of the table, his feet apart. ‘What happened there?’
‘We think he saw Kyle fall out of the cab – Sean and Dani were closest to him. Apparently he took one look at what was happening next to the truck, then stole a car, collected Roberts, and tried to escape to Mistake Creek. Roberts jumped out at the top of the ridge.’
‘Did John make it?’
The man shook his head. ‘No – Sean and Dani caught up with him. The creek’s flooded, so he couldn’t get across. They found him in the vehicle on the main road. She said it was like shooting fish in a barrel.’
Hudson pursed his lips. Dani was a liability sometimes, but an effective killer. He hoped he never found himself on the wrong side of her temper.
‘Where are Sean and Dani now?’
The younger man spoke up. ‘We lost contact with them after that,’ he said. ‘The storm threw our communications system offline – there’s just too much static.’
A large man, African-American, moved from where he had appeared at the doorway to the kitchen and kicked the shards of glass to one side. ‘Maybe they’re sheltering somewhere,’ he suggested, his voice low and calm. ‘It’d be pretty hard to ride a motorbike in this weather.’
Hudson nodded. ‘True. No sense in worrying about them at the moment. They’re more than capable of looking out for themselves.’
‘What about the truck, sir? Have you heard anything from the driver?’
Hudson’s gaze flicked to the man who had spoken. One of the younger members of the rag-tag group of mercenaries Hudson had ensnared, the man’s forearms bore the tell-tale pinpricks of a habitual drug user. The youth’s eyes were glossy, and Hudson wondered how the hell he’d ended up with so many loose ends to tidy away before his mission would be complete.
‘Sir?’ One of the other men spoke, breaking Hudson’s reverie.
Only then did Hudson allow a small smile to reach his mouth, his frustration about Kyle Roberts temporarily stayed. ‘The truck made it through before the landslide,’ he said.
The room filled with the sound of clapping. The six men pushed back their chairs and stood to congratulate him, slapping him on the back and turning to each other to share their excitement.
One of the other men leaned forward in his seat. ‘What do we do next, sir?’
‘We continue to activate phase two of the plan,’ said Hudson. He checked his watch. ‘That means you’ve got less than five hours to grab what you need, clean this place out, and be ready to roll.’ He looked each man in the eye, his gaze roaming round the table. ‘If you’re not ready, the rest of us won’t wait. Understood?’
‘Sir, yes, sir!’
The men jumped to their feet and saluted.
‘Dismissed.’
Hudson stood back as the men filed past him, then held out his hand to stop the youngest.
The man’s eyes widened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. ‘Sir?’
‘Get that communications system up and running, soldier. I want to know exactly where that truck is.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Hudson watched him go, then his attention snapped back to the large man standing at the door. ‘What do you think, Larry?’
‘I think we need to stick to the plan,’ the man said. ‘Keep the men calm, make sure they don’t panic. Get the job done.’
22
Nina coughed once before her eyelids shot open.
She was lying on her father’s old jacket, the lining stained with blood. She tried to remember where she was, and then recalled the escape from the truck stop on the motorbike, the abandoned car with Kyle’s
dead partner inside, and finding the old barn to hide in.
She raised her head, waited for the bout of dizziness to subside, then eased into a sitting position.
Her chest ached, her lungs on fire from the attack that had wracked her body, the cold air sending chills up her arms. She frowned.
Kyle was nowhere to be seen.
Nor was the motorbike.
She cursed under her breath before a low grunt reached her ears. She hauled herself to her feet using the wall for support and saw Kyle leaning against the motorbike on the other side of the barn.
She began to walk towards him, a little unsteadily at first, before she regained her balance. The old boards creaked under her weight, and Kyle’s head jerked round, his eyes blazing. Anger surged through her.
‘What are you doing? Were you thinking of leaving without me?’
‘You’re tired. Exhausted. I was trying to see if I could ride the bike.’
‘You mean you were going to leave.’
‘Not without you.’
Nina folded her arms across her chest. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I don’t care what you think.’
He turned back to the machine, flexing his fingers on the handlebars, and began to push it towards the locked barn doors.
‘You’re bleeding again.’
He stopped, and his shoulders slumped. ‘I thought I might be.’
Nina hurried to where he stood, leaned over the motorbike, and pushed his hands out of the way, before kicking the stand out and leaning the machine on it.
‘Stop. Let me take a look.’
She led the way back to where the old jacket lay on the floor, and then waited for Kyle to join her.
When he lifted his arms to peel off his t-shirt, she swallowed then pointed at the floor. ‘Sit down there. Hold the flashlight so I can see what I’m doing.’
Once Kyle had settled, Nina knelt beside him.
‘Sorry if this hurts.’
She peeled back the blood-soaked bandage and checked her watch.
It had only been six hours since she and Ross had applied their rough first aid to the FBI agent.
Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek Page 32