Rachel gasped, grabbed Natalie and swung her around as she ran for the nearest shop entrance. Inside, she bypassed racks of clothing and headed for the dressing rooms. There had to be a back door. There just had to be.
Natalie was sobbing and attracting too much attention. A clerk eyed them suspiciously. “Can I help you?”
“She’s just upset because she wants ice cream,” Rachel said, grasping at the first excuse that came to mind. “We’ll go out the back so we don’t disturb your other customers.”
“Sorry. We keep that locked. You understand.”
“Sure, sure.” Clutching the little girl close, Rachel ducked into an empty dressing room and pulled out her cell phone. There was only one person she trusted enough to summon.
“Hush,” she told her niece with a finger to her lips. “You need to be really quiet, sweetie. I’m calling Kyle.”
EIGHT
Kyle had decided to check on Stryker, then report to the training center. Traffic was heavy on Canyon Boulevard and around the BX. Many airmen had put in for holiday leave, while others were stocking up to celebrate locally. As far as Kyle was concerned, they were all overdoing it. The last time he’d arranged a special Christmas getaway his plans had died with his loved ones. That remembrance usually brought a tightness in his chest and a lump to his throat. This time, however, his reaction was tempered. Softer. More filled with melancholy acceptance than ever before.
As he drove, Kyle heard his cell phone ringing. “Roark.”
Someone was panting, muttering unintelligibly.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Rachel” he was able to make out. Beyond that, her attempts at conversation were muddled.
“Whoa. I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Slow down and speak up.”
“I can’t talk louder. We have to be very quiet.”
“Where’s Sergeant Colson? He’s supposed to be right outside your apartment.”
“There was a patrol car there. But I’m not home now. I’m at the BX with Natalie.”
Inappropriate responses filled his mind. “Where, exactly?”
“I don’t know. Some clothing store. It’s near the bank.”
He thought he heard her mumble again before she blurted, “It’s him. We both saw him. Peter is here.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Kyle whipped the wheel and made a U-turn at the next corner. “Stay put. I’m coming.”
Weaving between slower cars, he did his best to rush. The harder he tried, the more obstacles appeared. Frustration built. If he went charging into the base exchange mall he’d attract all sorts of attention. Assuming Rachel and Natalie really had spotted Peter, he knew he had to appear as inconspicuous as possible. That, and locate them before the other man did.
Since he had never gotten a close look at VanHoven it was liable to be difficult to pick him out in a crowd, particularly if he’d assumed a disguise and was dressed in the camo ABU, air-force battle uniform, that most airmen wore.
Kyle slid the last corner on two wheels, cut off another car and slipped into an empty parking place. He was out of the SUV and running toward the main entrance in seconds. A few feet from the automatic doors, he slowed and transformed himself into a normal, casual shopper.
The interior of the mall was crowded, good for hiding but bad for spotting an enemy. As his gaze swept the passing throng, he fixated on one anomaly. The clothing matched what he’d seen at the hospital. And the haircut was far from acceptable for any service member. That had to be Peter.
Kyle faded into the shadow of a doorway and watched. More than nervous, Peter appeared to be under the influence of either drugs or alcohol, maybe both. His mannerisms were jerky and unnatural. He didn’t stagger as much as walk with a slight limp.
Edging closer, Kyle got a better look. There was blood on one of the man’s ankles and the sleeve of his jacket was torn. Given his grubby condition, it was possible he’d found his way onto the base via one of the washed-out places that occasionally appeared beneath the perimeter fences. If VanHoven had come straight through the woods to the housing area, he might have been able to locate Rachel’s apartment, particularly if he’d had help.
At this point, it doesn’t matter if he was the prowler Stryker sensed last night or not, Kyle told himself. What he needed to do now was locate Rachel and the child and spirit them away before Peter noticed. Reporting him was out of the question. If VanHoven started screaming for his daughter, there would be too much explaining to do. No. First, he needed to rescue Rachel and Natalie. By the time Security picked up Peter, they could be off the base.
Kyle strode past one of the banks that maintained an office in the mall. The next shop featured shoes. After that came one that sold women’s clothing.
Taking one last quick peek at Peter, he entered the shop and immediately felt out of place. Why couldn’t Rachel have ducked into a sporting-goods store? Pretending to scan the racks of clothes, he worked his way to the rear where the dressing rooms were. Entering was out of the question. So was shouting her name and drawing attention.
“Can I help you, Captain?”
He smiled politely. “I hope so. My wife asked me to meet her down here and she forgot to say which store. I wondered if she might be trying on something.”
“Was she alone?” the clerk asked.
“Um, no. Our little girl was with her.” He held out a hand, palm down. “About this tall, blond hair, blue eyes.”
“Good lungs?” the clerk added with an arch of her brows. “Never mind. I think your wife is here. I’ll go get her.”
Kyle heard the woman call, “Ma’am, your husband is looking for you. Will you please come out now?”
When Rachel didn’t appear he took a chance, leaned in and called, “Hey! Rachel. Are you ready to go?”
She not only came out, she barreled into Kyle’s chest and clung to him. Natalie grabbed his knee. “We were afraid it wasn’t you.”
Instead of asking questions and waiting for her explanation, he lifted Natalie, kept one arm around Rachel’s shoulders and started for the door. “Put up the hood on your jacket,” he told the child. “We’re getting out of here.”
All three paused at the store’s doorway. Clear glass windows and door gave them no place to hide.
“So far, so good,” Kyle said hoarsely. “What were you doing out and about without a bodyguard?”
“I didn’t think I’d be allowed to bring Stryker.”
“Since when did rules stop you?” he asked cynically.
“I was thinking of the dog, okay? Without his prosthesis it would be harder for him to walk very far.”
“What was wrong with staying home?” If he hadn’t been looking at her when he’d asked, he might have missed the guilt briefly reflected in her expression. Astonished, he stared. “You were running away from me!”
“What if I was?” Rachel leaned past him to check passersby. “You kept insisting Peter couldn’t possibly get on base and he did. What should I have done? Sit at home and wait until he knocked on my door?”
Kyle turned right and headed into the depths of the immense mall, keeping Rachel and Natalie close as he took long, purposeful strides. He had no pat answer for her. Nothing was working out the way he’d imagined. Nevertheless, he did have a few observations.
“First of all,” he said with an undertone of anger, “you had no idea that man was actually on the base. Not until you spotted him this morning. So any plans to take off like a fugitive were made before you got here.”
She didn’t reply. Kyle went on. “Second, if you had intended to tell me what you were up to, you would have phoned before you left your apartment instead of waiting until you were scared to death.”
Sensing danger he picked up the pace, making her half jog to keep up. “Third, you’d better hope we can get out of here befo
re Peter spots us and gives chase, because anybody who stops him is going to want to know why he’s here and that will point directly to you. And me.”
“And Natalie,” Rachel finally said.
“Yes. And Natalie. Which is the worst of all three.”
“We have to run away. Can’t you see that?”
“I’m waiting to hear back from a buddy of mine who’s a civilian lawyer. He can probably advise you.”
“And in the meantime?”
Kyle could tell she was getting short of breath. Between that and her fear, he wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep up with him. He knew what he should do: call the cops and wait for them to arrive. He also know there were other options, possibilities he’d entertained, then rejected out of hand. He had a place to take her, to hide her, but hadn’t been back there in years. Nor was he eager to revisit that part of his past. Why hadn’t he sold the tiny cabin long ago? Keeping it up was a useless drain on his finances.
So, why had he hung on to it? Because it was once a happy place, Kyle thought with a sigh. A place where his little family had shared holidays and made beautiful memories. Located on an unmarked, forested tract of land, it was so secluded he’d had to convince his late wife, Sue, it was safe to proceed beyond what her GPS could pinpoint.
“My car is parked directly across from the front entrance,” Kyle rasped, leaning to speak to Rachel. He pressed a key into her trembling hand. “When we get to the side door, you take Natalie on ahead, get in the SUV and start it. Keep your heads down. I’ll be there as soon as I make sure we’re not being followed.”
Her eyes were wide with fright and glassy with tears. She took a shuddering breath. “Did—did Peter see us?”
“Possibly. I noticed someone moving fast through the crowd. I can’t imagine who else it would be.”
Panting, Rachel peered past him. “I don’t see him.”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t there.”
Wide exit doors slid open. Cold wind rushed in. Kyle set Natalie at Rachel’s feet. “Go. Now.”
She grabbed her niece’s hand, stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. Her lips were warm, her touch gentle yet urgent. Then, without a word, she turned and began to hurry away.
Kyle stared after her. If he’d had any doubt whether to take her to the cabin, that kiss had solidified his decision. He was in this up to his neck and wasn’t going to back off.
He stepped aside, stood next to the closing door and waited. If anybody tried to follow Rachel and Natalie, they’d have to take him out first.
* * *
Pain sliced through Rachel’s lungs and almost doubled her over. She pressed her ribs, hoping that would help. It didn’t. She was near the end of her endurance. Intense fright had sapped her strength as much as physical exertion.
Not sure which vehicle was Kyle’s, she pushed the button on Kyle’s smart key. Flashing yellow lights led her straight to the SUV. She strapped Natalie in the second seat, as before, and climbed behind the wheel.
Shorter than Kyle, she had to scoot forward on the driver’s seat to reach the brake and gas pedals. The engine roared to life. Her hands fisted on the wheel. So far, she’d followed Kyle’s orders. This was where she intended to deviate. Prayers for transportation off the base had been answered. No one in his right mind would expect her to just curl up on the seat and sit there like the derelict machinery their fighter pilots used for target practice.
Oh, no. She had wheels. She was going to spin them and “get out of Dodge.”
One glance back at Natalie assured her that the child was all right. A second glimpse of the sidewalk outside the door showed Kyle standing alone, apparently braced for attack. This was her chance to escape. So why was her conscience screaming at her to not leave him?
“Please, God,” Rachel whispered. “Tell me this is okay.”
Partially backing out of the parking space, she was delayed by a passing car. There were blind spots in the SUV mirrors that kept her from being certain the other car was far enough away to allow safe egress, so she inched backward.
By the time she had room to straighten the wheels she was perspiring. Natalie must have sensed her anxiety because her thin voice piped up. “Auntie Rachel? Where’s Kyle?”
Where, indeed? She looked back at the place where she’d last seen him. Her breath caught; her pulse leaped. Kyle was down in a blur of male bodies! So was Peter. A couple of airmen had stopped to cheer on the combatants. Nobody seemed inclined to stop the fight. In fact, a third person, in civilian clothes, had just jerked Kyle and Peter to their feet.
For an instant she thought the new arrival was on their side. Then the burly man threw a punch that sent Kyle reeling. That was enough to inspire several airmen to jump into the fray. Fists flew. Men wheeled and staggered, then lunged back into the fight. Where was Kyle? Which one was he? What if they all ganged up on him?
Rachel whipped the steering wheel left and floored the gas. Now her decision was easy. She was going to rescue the only real friend she had in the world.
* * *
Unarmed, Kyle had made the mistake of assuming Peter was, too. A flash of silver proved otherwise. Kyle knocked the knife aside and closed in, gaining temporary advantage. He barely noticed the gathering spectators—or the wound in his side.
Wiry VanHoven slipped out of his grasp three times before Kyle was able to pin him down. The smaller man fought like a wild animal, or somebody on drugs. Kyle guessed the latter. Superhuman strength was a side effect of meth while it made users unpredictable and irrational. Not the best kind of adversary to face in hand-to-hand combat.
Someone from the crowd wrenched them apart. Fists were flying. He figured the airmen had noticed his captain’s insignias and sided with him. That other civilian, however, packed a punch like a mule’s kick.
Kyle went down. His jaw ached; his vision blurred. He shook it off and clambered to his feet. Someone slammed him against the outer wall of the building, barely missing the glassed front. In his peripheral vision he glimpsed Peter’s jacket. Was he fleeing?
Kyle ducked just in time to avoid another jarring punch from the larger man. Airmen came to his aid and piled on top of the remaining attacker.
Peter was getting away! Kyle yearned to run after him but his image wavered like a desert mirage on a hot Texas afternoon. He staggered. Pressed a hand to his side. Stepped off the curb into the street.
A horn honked. Dizzy, he managed to turn without falling. It was his car! Pulling up right next to him. And Rachel was driving.
The electric window on the passenger side slid smoothly down. She was yelling something but it was drowned out by the noise of the ongoing fight. He reached for the door handle and used it for balance.
“Get in!” she yelled.
Under the circumstances Kyle figured that was a pretty good idea. He pulled himself into place as best he could as she hit the gas. Rapid acceleration threw him back against the seat. He tried to gather his thoughts. Pointed behind them. “Peter is running. He’s getting away.”
Instead of racing in pursuit as he thought she would, she said, “So are we,” and left the parking lot by the farthest opposite exit.
NINE
Rachel’s greatest concern was the condition of her companion. “Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Kyle shook his head in what looked like both a reply and an effort to clear his thoughts. “I’m a doctor. I’ll take care of myself.”
“Not if you pass out. You aren’t usually that pale. What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be fine. Just keep driving.”
“Where to?”
“Drive while I think. We can’t go back until the cops get their hands on Peter and whoever that man-mountain was he brought with him.”
“I thought I saw two guys attacking you but everything happened so fast I was
n’t sure.”
Kyle winced. “I’m sure. Swing by your place and pick up Stryker. We can’t abandon him. Then head for the east gate.”
“We’re leaving the base after all?”
“Temporarily. I have some calls to make as soon as we’re in the clear.”
“Who are you going to call?” After what had just happened she trusted him to do the right thing, but that didn’t mean she’d stopped worrying.
“Security, first, so they’ll know what the fight was about and won’t blame the airmen who jumped in to help me. I’m also going to tell them what VanHoven was wearing and warn them that he has a knife.”
She caught a glimpse of him peering down at his side. There was blood on his hand! “You’re hurt.”
“It’s not deep. Keep going.”
“To the hospital, you mean.” They were approaching her apartment building. “I can turn around here.”
“No!”
“You don’t have to yell. I can probably stitch you up but I’ll have a hard time explaining myself if you aren’t conscious.”
“I doubt sutures will be required,” Kyle told her. Although his jaw was clenching when she pulled to the curb, he sounded convincing. “I’ll stay with Natalie while you get the dog.”
“We could call somebody else to pick him up.”
“We could, but I want him with us. We’re liable to need all the help we can get.”
“Right. But what if Peter shows up before I get back?”
“Trust the K-9,” Kyle said. “You know the commands as well as I do. He’ll take out Peter if he needs to.” She saw him grimace. “Even with three legs he’s more threatening than I am like this.”
“Okay.” Leaving the motor running, she threw open the driver’s door and took off toward her apartment. Please, God, she prayed, let Kyle be all right. The rest of her prayer was jumbled and confusing, yet she knew it included thoughts of love and devotion and the desire to somehow hold her impromptu family together. The fact that such wishes made little sense didn’t bother her nearly as much as the possibility they might be pulled apart by circumstances beyond anyone’s control.
Military K-9 Unit Christmas: Christmas Escape ; Yuletide Target Page 7