Launching herself across the paddock, she pumped her arms and ran as fast as she could at the vehicle, all the while expecting gunshots to ring out from the veranda.
At the verge of exhaustion, she slid to the ground next to the vehicle, her feet losing traction in the mud. She clenched her fingers around the knife, desperate not to drop it – not now. Not yet.
Her breathing laboured, she gave herself a few seconds to recover, then faced the back wheel. The darkness enveloped her so far from the house lights, and she moved her fingers across the rubber surface, tracing the outline until she found the inner part of the tyre wall, next to the rusting hub cap.
Changing her grip on the knife, she wedged it into the material, wiggling it when the familiar pop had passed, trying to get the weapon deeper into the tyre.
Then the knife gave way under her, and she felt rather than heard the snap that shuddered up the shaft.
For a moment, she sat, shocked, unwilling to comprehend what had happened. She leaned her forehead against the bodywork of the vehicle and closed her eyes.
A shaking breath escaped from her lips, and when she raised her head and squinted through the darkness, she wiggled the knife from side to side.
The hilt fell from the tyre, a stubby remnant of the blade sticking out from the end.
‘Shit.’
Nina held the knife up, trying to gauge how much was left. She gingerly moved her fingers up the flat side of the blade and realised only a tiny amount remained.
She clenched her teeth and changed her position until she could see the last remaining vehicle.
Kyle’s instructions echoed in her mind.
Two tyres per vehicle at least.
Would it make a difference if she only slashed one tyre on this vehicle and managed to damage the last one? Would Hudson’s men be able to still use the car with one damaged tyre?
Could she even make it across the paddock to reach the four-wheel drive that sat, taunting her?
As she churned her options around in her head, wondering whether she should attempt to get to the vehicle and use the broken blade to try and slice through the tyres, a thick arm snaked around her shoulders and a large hand clamped across her mouth.
Her eyes opened wide, and she began to struggle, trying to loosen the man’s grip.
He swore, a low growl that she felt between her shoulder blades.
‘For fuck’s sake, it’s me,’ Kyle hissed.
Hudson swept the paperwork from his desk, reached behind the abandoned chair, and pulled a plastic tube towards himself.
‘What’s that?’ asked the younger man leaning against the wall. He moved forward as he watched the older man uncap the tube and extract a rolled-up document.
‘Construction plans, Brad,’ said Hudson. ‘For this place.’
He flattened the plans with the palm of his hand, then grabbed two desk ornaments and used them to pin down opposite corners.
The younger man approached the desk, frowning. ‘Why?’
Hudson glanced up at him, a gleam in his eye. ‘Because when we leave here, I want no trace left behind. Nothing.’ He loosened his cuff buttons and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, then shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the plans. ‘If the Feds are onto us, then they’re going to get a surprise when they show up here.’
He caught movement out the corner of his eye as Larry entered the room, who nodded at Brad, then started towards the desk.
A smile flickered across Hudson’s face. ‘Ah, the explosives expert is here.’
‘Jock.’
‘Where’ve you been, Larry?’
‘Checking the perimeter of the house.’
‘Anything to report?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Good.’ Hudson inclined his head towards the plans on the desk. ‘Does this help?’
Brad stood aside as Larry moved round the desk and leaned forward, tracing his fingers over the outlines of the building.
‘Do you have plans for the basement as well?’
Hudson reached into the plastic tube and pulled out another rolled-up document. ‘Yes. And drawings of the roof structure.’
‘I’ll need them all.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Brad’s eyes moved from one man to the other. ‘You’re not thinking of blowing this place up, are you?’
‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ said Hudson. ‘No traces, remember?’ He turned to Larry. ‘How much time do you need?’
The explosives expert shrugged. ‘An hour, maybe two.’
Hudson checked his watch. ‘Our ride will be here at zero-five-hundred hours,’ he said. ‘Be done and clear by zero-four-hundred at the latest.’
‘I’ll make a start.’
He leaned forward, rolled up the plans, and tucked them under his arm.
Hudson watched the man leave the room and then turned to Brad.
‘Follow him,’ he said. ‘Make sure he sets all the charges.’
Brad frowned. ‘Don’t you trust him?’
‘I trusted Kyle Roberts,’ growled Hudson. ‘Look where that got me.’ He leaned down, picked up a briefcase, and began shovelling documents into it. ‘Go. See what he’s up to. And make sure you tell everyone we’re leaving at five,’ he said, and nodded towards the door. ‘They don’t want to get left behind if they want to live.’
Brad nodded, his eyes wide, and jogged from the room.
Hudson checked his watch and resumed packing.
In a way, he hoped the Feds did show up. Then he could really teach them to mind their own business.
29
‘What the hell were you trying to do?’
Nina glared at the shadow of a man in front of her.
Their laboured breathing slowed as one.
‘I didn’t want to surprise you and have you yell out.’
‘So you thought you’d give me a heart attack instead, is that it?’
‘Hey, I didn’t know you were going to fight me,’ he snapped.
Nina sat back on her heels, ignoring the damp that was seeping through the knees of her jeans. She glared at him as he shuffled closer until he was sheltered alongside her, their backs against the bodywork of the car. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’
A sigh escaped from the man next to her, and she decided to change the subject. ‘Did you do the recce? What’s going on over there?’
‘They’re packing up to leave.’
‘You mean they’re going to escape?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ He craned his neck until he could see past her and squinted at the line of vehicles. ‘How did you get on?’
‘Fine, until the knife broke on this tyre.’ She jabbed her chin towards the four-wheel drive. ‘I didn’t get to that one.’
‘That’s not so bad. Nice work.’
‘Thanks. Now what do we do?’
He leaned his head back against the car and stretched. ‘I need to get inside. It looks like there are two men moving around inside the house; I’m not sure what they’re doing, but the rest of Hudson’s men look as if they’ve got bags packed. Like they’re ready to roll out.’
‘What about Hudson?’
‘In the study. Running paperwork through a shredder.’
‘Evidence?’
He shrugged. ‘Probably. But I’ve got enough to prove what he’s been doing, so I’m not too worried about that.’
‘Jeff and Tim?’
‘I couldn’t see them, so I’m assuming they’re being kept out of the way.’
Nina pushed her fingers through her hair. ‘That makes things difficult, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ve got two guns. I need to kill six men. Plus Hudson. Without getting killed myself, so I can rescue Jeff and Tim.’
Nina swallowed. He’d said it so clinically, so devoid of emotion.
‘There’s something else,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Sean and Dani are here. Come on.’
N
ina shivered, her blood running cold, and a keen hatred began to worm its way into her veins as she realised that, no matter what happened tonight, she wanted only one thing.
To make sure Ross’s family got out alive, even if she hadn’t been able to save him.
She ran after Kyle, her fingers interlaced with his so she didn’t become separated from him.
They used the shadows beyond the vehicles to move around the outer perimeter of the property, running in short bursts between the guards’ patrol.
Before they’d left the shelter of the four-door station wagon, the front door to the property had opened, light flooding over the pathway beyond.
Two men had stepped out and exchanged words with the guards, who had then disappeared back into the confines of the house.
‘Shift change,’ Kyle had murmured.
They’d waited until the new guards had turned their backs before making their escape.
Now, they moved in the darkness, slipping and sliding over the uneven ground, gradually circling the ranch and its inhabitants.
In between bursts of running, she had time to take in her surroundings. The ranch was different from the building she remembered as a teenager.
The previous owners had been elderly, merely using the property as a small-holding, slowly leaving the outlying fields to fallow and retreating to a small vegetable garden more easily tended as the drought intensified. Only the fields closest to the house had been bankable crops, and mostly cattle fodder at that.
Hudson had apparently kept up appearances by maintaining the cattle crops, but the vegetable patch had been lain to waste, and as Nina followed Kyle around its perimeter, the earthy stench of abandoned soil reached her senses, seconds before she tripped and fell.
She pushed herself into a crouching position and glared at the protruding tree root that had felled her.
Rubbing her ankle, she frowned, realising her error, then raised her head and gazed up.
No tree large enough to match the root towered above; there were only scrubby saplings that had failed to grow during the drought-stricken years of late. She reached forward, her interest piqued, and touched the tree root. Despite its muddy appearance, it seemed soft under her fingers, and pliant.
‘No!’ Kyle dropped beside her, pushed her hand out of the way, and hissed into her ear. ‘Don’t touch it!’
Nina frowned, confused.
He peered over her shoulder, towards the house, then reached down and cupped his hand around the bulb of the flashlight before switching it on and aiming it at the tree root.
Nina recoiled in horror.
The matted body of a large dog lay partially covered in leaf mulch, its eyes and muzzle festering with busy maggots. Mud covered its once-glossy golden coat.
‘Oh, God.’ Nina covered her mouth with her hand, the stench of the dog’s wasted body searing her nose.
‘Sorry.’ Kyle flicked off the torch. ‘But I couldn’t let you touch it.’
‘It’s not an it, it’s a her. It’s Misty, Ross’s dog,’ said Nina. She moved away. ‘What happened to her?’
‘I wasn’t involved,’ said Kyle. ‘Hudson wasn’t happy about it, but he did it without me anyway. He’s got enough sick bastards willing to do his dirty work.’
Nina folded her arms across her chest. ‘What did he do to her?’
Kyle sighed. ‘He wanted to make sure the poison worked. So they tried some of it on the dog.’
‘Jesus.’ Nina spun round and walked several paces away.
‘Wait.’ Kyle followed and grabbed her sleeve. ‘I couldn’t stop him. I had to let it play out.’
‘Play out?’ Nina sputtered. ‘This isn’t a game. What sort of sick bastard poisons a dog on purpose?’
Kyle let go of her arm. ‘The same sort of sick bastard who’s going to do this to a whole city,’ he said, his voice shaking with anger. ‘So, can we get a move on?’
He stood back and held out his hand.
She shook her head, exasperated, took his hand, and stalked behind him, following him around the perimeter until he stopped and pulled her closer.
He reached into his waistband and pulled out one of the guns. He checked the magazine, slotted it back into place, and flicked the safety to ‘on,’ then held it out to her.
She raised her hand to take it from him, but he jerked it out of her reach at the last minute.
‘Don’t shoot anyone unless you’re threatened, okay? It’s for emergencies only.’
‘I’ll try to remember that. Hand it over.’
‘Can you actually use one of these?’
‘It’s been a while, but I think I can remember.’
Kyle grinned and handed over the weapon.
‘What? What’s so funny?’
‘I heard you say something similar about riding a motorbike,’ he said, the skin at his eyes creasing.
Nina gave a short laugh. ‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’
‘You’re full of surprises, Nina,’ he said. ‘I like that.’
30
Jock Hudson turned the glass in his hand, condensation running down the crystal and pooling onto the oak-coloured table.
He raised the drink and closed his eyes as the amber liquid burned his throat and soothed his nerves. Ice cubes cooled his lips, contrasting with the bourbon. The chair creaked under his weight as he opened his eyes and leaned forward, his fingers reaching for the uncapped bottle.
He’d been so damn close. He cursed in frustration as he poured another measure into the glass, then screwed the lid into place and shoved the bottle across the table out of reach.
He rubbed a hand across his face.
He’d never known a storm like this, despite travelling the world with the military. Lightning, thunder, sure, but not a drought-breaker like this one. Not in a contained valley where the static from the lightning scrambled satellite signals and high winds tore down phone lines.
The lack of progress by his hunters frustrated him. His only consolation was that they’d caught up with John as he’d been driving the car towards town.
As for the other escapee, no-one knew, and that made him nervous.
His man had returned, reporting he’d shot the lying bastard but that Kyle had tumbled from the ridge, and there was no way of checking in the dark, not over that terrain.
Hudson cursed and took another gulp of his drink.
He’d lost his touch. He’d been so wrapped up in the final stages of the project he hadn’t made sure his men had conducted the proper background checks on the two men when they’d shown up three months ago. Instead, he’d been grateful for the extra help, his ego inflated by the lies they’d spun him about their own military backgrounds and their eagerness to join his cause.
As he placed the glass on the table, his hands trembled. He glared at them, as if that would stop the shaking from reaching his arms.
Not this. Not now.
Hudson tipped his head back, swallowed the last of the bourbon, and shoved his chair back, then stood and squared his shoulders.
He walked to the sink, rinsed the glass, and left it upside down on the counter, then shook his head at the habit.
Within four hours, there’d be no house, let alone a kitchen counter to worry about.
His head jerked sideways at a noise from the passageway, and his hand fell to the pistol tucked into his belt, his thumb flicking the safety catch off.
Brad appeared, his face sweaty.
Hudson relaxed. ‘What is it?’
‘Just getting some water for Larry,’ he explained, wiping his forehead. ‘He’s nearly finished laying the charges in the roof. You wouldn’t believe how stuffy it is up there.’
‘These old ranch houses were built to last,’ said Hudson. ‘And keep the warmth in. Tell Larry to make sure he has the charges right under the supporting beams; otherwise it’ll never work.’
The younger man nodded, filled two glasses from the tap, and turned back to the door.
‘Brad?’
‘Yeah?’
‘What do you think? Do you trust him?’
‘What do you mean?’
Hudson shrugged. ‘He showed up two months before the others.’
He didn’t need to say who. They’d all been shocked at the revelation the small group had been infiltrated by the FBI.
‘Yeah, I trust him,’ said Brad. He shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t be doing such a good job of covering your tracks otherwise.’
Hudson grunted and waved the man away.
Hudson’s eyes narrowed as one of his other men approached, an older man in tow, his shoulders slumped, worry lines creasing his brow.
‘Did it work, Peter?’
His security man nodded. ‘Perfect,’ he said, jerking his head at the older man. ‘He did as he was told, just like you said he would.’
‘Good.’ Hudson’s mouth twisted as he narrowed his eyes at the farmer. ‘For a moment there, I didn’t think it would work. Did he suspect anything?’
‘No,’ said Peter. ‘It’s amazing how trusting people will be when they’re desperate.’
The two men laughed.
‘So you’ll let my boy go now?’ Jeff Flanagan surged forward, his face hopeful.
‘Not a chance in hell.’ The humour left Hudson’s voice as he glared at the man.
‘But you said you’d let him go if I helped you.’ Jeff looked from one man to the other in bewilderment. ‘You promised.’
‘I lied.’
‘You can’t do that!’
Hudson sneered, his voice dangerously low. ‘I can do whatever I want,’ he snarled. He jerked his chin towards the door. ‘Take him away. Put him with his boy. He’s no use to me now.’
31
Nina mimicked Kyle’s crouched stance as they broke through the treeline and tore across the unguarded perimeter towards the smaller of the ramshackle buildings.
Compared to the newer barn closer to the house, the sheds appeared derelict and unused since the property’s previous owners had moved on, taking their more traditional farming methods with them.
Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek Page 36