by Rebecca York
Instead of coming up with anything, he slept.
***
As promised, Shane and Max were up before dawn and ate a quick breakfast of power bars and coffee in their room. They’d used Google to get the location of Morgan Rains’ house, and they’d also searched for information on the professor. They found that she taught in the Psychology Department of George Mason University. She was a good-looking thirty-year-old woman with chin-length blond hair and blue eyes, the widow of an engineer who got shot in a robbery. There was a full account of the crime in an article in The Washington Post.
“Tough for her,” Max had said. “And now it looks like she’s in trouble again. Worse than before because this time she’s the one who could get killed.”
“I’d like to know how she got hooked up with Jack.”
“Hopefully we’ll find out.”
Neither one of them said the other half of the thought. They’d find out—if she and Jack were still alive.
As they drew near the vicinity of the burned house, Shane slowed the Jeep.
“A lot of SUVs parked in the woods,” Max commented. “You think they’re from the militia?”
“Unless the fire department’s back in force—with all the guys driving their own cars.”
Shane swore under his breath. “Cunningham warned us not to tip Trainer off.”
“Which is why this Cherokee is registered to my sister,” Max said. He looked toward the SUVs, trying not to be obvious.
“Nobody’s there. They must all be out looking for Jack and Ms. Rains.”
Shane found a spot to turn around and headed in the other direction. He parked a quarter-mile down the road, and they trotted back, carrying their fishing poles and tackle boxes which contained their guns and other equipment that they might need.
They made their way cautiously through the woods and stopped short when they saw a squad of men dressed in fatigues walking smartly away from the ruined house. About a hundred yards from the house, the men split up, some going right, others left. A third group went straight ahead.
Hanging back, the Rockfort agents waited until the troops were out of sight.
“If they knew where to find Jack and Rains, they wouldn’t have to split up,” Max whispered.
“They probably have a better idea where to look than we do,” Shane answered.
“Too bad we can’t follow all of them.”
Mentally flipping a coin, Shane answered, “You take the ones on the right. I’ll take the middle group.”
“I think it’s better to stay together,” Max answered.
Shane considered the problem as he scanned the surrounding area and the mountains beyond. “We could miss them entirely.”
“But one of us can’t take on the militia.”
Shane nodded. “Okay. Let’s head down the middle.”
***
Gray light was filtering in through the cave mouth when Jack woke again and ran his hand through his hair. He was stiff from sleeping sitting up and from the activities of the day before, but he knew it had been the right thing to do. The good news was that he could see out of his left eye again and hadn’t had any more flashbacks from the torture session. Instead he remembered the shreds of a dream. He’d been one of George Washington’s troops in his Continental Army.
He snorted. Well, that was a great way to escape from his present circumstances. But before that, G. Washington had popped into his head, and he didn’t think it was really a reference to the first President.
He’d planned to ask Morgan if the George Washington reference meant anything to her when he looked over at the sleeping bag and froze.
She wasn’t there.
Had she done something stupid, like run away? Or had she just gone outside to relieve herself—and not wakened him to say where she was going?
Cursing under his breath, he scanned the area, seeing that she’d left her pack—and everything else. Which meant she hadn’t intended to take off, he hoped.
So he just had to worry about her getting into trouble outside on her own.
He stood, wincing at the sudden movement. Pulling up his shirt, he looked at his burns and decided they were healing, and when he inspected his arm, he found the bite marks had improved too. Luckily there seemed to be no infection.
As quickly as he could, he walked to the place where they’d left their wet jeans. Hers were gone. His were still there—and almost dry. He kicked off his shoes so he could pull the pants on, grimacing as the stiff fabric chafed against the burns on his thighs.
He shoved the shoes back on and headed for the cave mouth, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. When he spotted Morgan running back across the clearing, relief washed over him—until he saw the look of panic on her face.
Chapter 15
Pausing at the cave mouth, Morgan stepped carefully over the vine, then hurried inside. When she saw Jack, she dragged in a breath and let it out before starting to speak.
“Thank God you’re up. I saw them.”
He’d expected more time; now he began revising his timetable as he craned his neck toward the trees beyond the clearing. “I don’t see anything.”
“They’re still in the woods. He must have a couple of search parties out. Two men are coming this way.”
“They may not find the cave,” he said, knowing that was a long shot. And either way, they had to be prepared, starting with removing the evidence that they’d been here.
“Come on.” He ran back to the place where they’d camped out and scooped up the sleeping bag and one of the packs, looking around for more signs that someone had been here recently.
She stuffed the wrapper from a power bar into her pack and slung it over her shoulder.
Jack led her to the back of the cave, stopping to shove the sleeping bag into the crevice where he’d dropped the bandages the evening before. It was too bulky to go down easily, but he finally succeeded in cramming it through the wider part of the opening. Once freed, it dropped out of sight.
“Remember that natural chimney I found yesterday? I want you to take one of the packs and start climbing.”
“What about you?” she asked, her voice rising slightly as she looked from him to the cave entrance and back again.
“I’ll come after you as soon as I take care of them.”
“Where does that thing go?”
“I’m not sure. It was too dark to see last night, but wherever it is, it’s better than being caught in here.”
She looked back toward the cave entrance. “There are two of them and only one of you.”
He gave her a cocky grin. “One of me is better than two of them.”
They had to hurry, but he spared a moment to pull Morgan into his arms and hold her tightly against the length of his body. She clung to him just as fiercely. He’d surprised himself by the impulse to gather her close, but it had felt entirely natural, like something fundamental had changed between them. Last night they’d been skittish around each other. Not now.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said.
“Be careful,” she answered.
“You too. Now go on. There will be light coming down the shaft.”
As he watched her run to the back of the cave, he thought about the change between them. Not just his feelings for her. Today they were working as a team, maybe because that was the only way to stay alive, he told himself.
***
Morgan headed farther back into the cave, following the light coming down from above. When she reached the natural chimney, she hesitated. The idea of leaving Jack alone to face the militiamen made her stomach knot, but she knew he had to keep his total focus on them, and if she were still in the cave, his attention would be divided between them and her.
Knowing that climbing up the shaft was the best course, she tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans and inspected the vertical tunnel. Craning her head up, she saw hand- and footholds that Jack had probably used to climb, but she was shorter than h
e was, and it was too much of a stretch to reach them. Standing on tiptoes, she fought to pull herself up. It was no good. She simply couldn’t reach high enough.
Panic welled inside her. Now what? She could run farther back into the cave, but then Jack would have no idea where she’d gone.
Then she saw the rocks that had fallen onto the cave floor. The largest one was too big to carry, but she was able to roll it back and set it on the floor under the natural chimney. By standing on it, she could reach the first handhold. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled herself up, then braced her back and legs against opposite walls of the shaft, waiting a moment to catch her breath before she began to climb.
Finally, she started upward, knowing she was behind schedule and listening for any sound of trouble from below. She kept climbing, reaching for handholds, then pulling herself up and bracing her feet in the holes she’d previously used for her hands. The light grew brighter as she ascended. It was hard work for someone her size, but she kept going because she knew it was her only alternative.
Looking up blinded her with a shaft of sunlight, and she kept her head down. But she still missed a foothold, and she slipped, fighting not to cry out as she fell a couple of feet before she caught herself.
She’d torn the skin on her fingers, but she was sure she hadn’t given herself away.
After catching her breath, she began to move upward again, this time being more cautious. When she reached the top, she stopped and allowed herself to rest again.
She’d done it!
Cautiously she poked her head out and saw that she was on a rock-scattered ledge above the front of the cliff. The view of the ground was blocked, and she carefully maneuvered herself around a boulder to look down. When she saw two militiamen approaching the cave entrance, she quickly ducked back down, hearing as they talked indistinctly.
They were out early. Presumably to capture or kill her and Jack.
She’d only caught a glimpse of them coming through the field, but she was pretty sure she recognized them as some of the men who had gathered around her burning house the day before. Both were young men in their mid-twenties, she judged. Both seemed wary of approaching the natural barrier of the rock wall.
As they came closer, she could hear their voices drifting toward her.
“This looks like a dead end. We can go back and report to Trainer.”
The other man made a scoffing sound. “Come on! He doesn’t want to hear we didn’t find them. Could they have climbed up?”
There was a pause before the first voice answered, “Doubtful. Unless those vines are strong enough to hold them.”
“But there could be caves.”
“Okay, we’ll poke around.”
The sound of their footfalls told her they were moving along the wall the way Jack had done the day before, probably using their hands instead of a stick.
***
Jack waited several yards back in the cave. He was in shadow. The men out there were in the sunlight, which would make it difficult to see him.
As he stood with his pulse pounding, he listened to them talking. It was Jessup and Hamilton. Jessup thought they should turn back and contact the rest of the militia force. Hamilton wanted to investigate the cliff face. Too bad for them.
“Wait a second. There’s something here,” Hamilton called out.
Jack braced himself, waiting.
“Be careful. They could be in there. Or an animal.”
They disappeared from his line of sight. Then Hamilton moved in front of the cave mouth, sweeping his left hand along the vines while he held a pistol in his right.
Hamilton moved in closer, his leg brushing against the vine that Jack had strung across the ground in front of the cave.
The rocks he’d positioned above the entrance fell, raining down around Hamilton and knocking him to the ground, but Jessup was too far back to get caught.
Knowing that he had to act before Jessup collected his wits, Jack raised his gun and fired, the report reverberating painfully in the confined space. But the light behind Jessup made it hard to see the man clearly, and Jack only got him in the arm, which wasn’t enough to stop him.
Jessup fired, completely missing his target. But Jack got off a second round. This time it hit the man in the chest, and he dropped.
Jack rushed forward and checked Jessup. Blood spread across the front of his uniform shirt, darkening the camouflage pattern. The bullet had penetrated his heart and killed him. Moving on to Hamilton, Jack found the man stirring. Not wanting to risk another shot, he brought the butt of his gun down hard on the militiaman’s head.
Then he pulled both men into the cave. The shots were unfortunate. They’d bring the rest of the militia running. The question was, where were they now and how fast could they get here?
***
Shane stopped in his tracks. “Shots.”
Max nodded. “Coming from that direction.” He pointed ahead of them.
In the next moment they heard one of the militia guys shouting, “Over this way!”
“Where are Jessup and Hamilton?” someone else called out.
“Maybe they’re down.”
“Hope that son of a bitch, Barnes, didn’t get them.”
Max and Shane exchanged glances. Barnes was the alias Jack had used when he’d approached Trainer. So he was on the loose.
Shane and Max followed the men, hanging back so as not to be spotted but staying close enough to keep tabs on the group.
They both heard men running through the underbrush. Ahead of them they saw a wall of rock.
“This is sure following Cunningham’s directions. I mean staying out of the action,” Max muttered.
“Yeah, but if Jack is in trouble, we’re jumping in.”
They saw the men close in on the wall of rock, fanning out, moving cautiously closer. Some stood back with their guns at the ready while others looked for something behind the vegetation that covered much of the surface.
The men were too close to see what Shane saw, a woman peeking out from behind a rock about thirty feet above ground level.
Her hair was blond. Her eyes were light, and she matched the picture of Professor Rains that they’d seen on the George Mason University Web page, only she looked like she’d been sleeping rough rather than getting prepped for a publicity photo.
Chapter 16
Jack dragged the two bodies farther back into the cave, around the bend where they couldn’t be spotted from the entrance.
Then he ran farther back and found the shaft where he had climbed up the evening before. Craning his neck up, he looked for Morgan and didn’t see her.
He’d told her to go up there, but had she been able to make it?
When he saw that the large rock on the cave floor had been pushed to the bottom of the shaft, he breathed out a small sigh. She must have had trouble reaching the first handhold and used the rock to give herself a little extra height.
Tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, he began to climb. Below him he heard footsteps in the cave, then shouts.
“It’s Hamilton and Jessup.”
“Jesus Christ, what happened to them?”
“Looks like they ran into Barnes and the woman.”
“There’s no evidence anyone was here.”
“Except these two dead men. Go farther back. On the double.” The order came from Trainer.
The men must have hesitated, because the militia leader barked, “I mean now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack had become a sitting duck. If anyone looked up the natural chimney, they’d see him. He climbed faster, straining his ankle. He ignored the pain, knowing he had to get out of the shaft before anyone thought to consider it as an escape route.
He made it to the top and saw Morgan breathe out a sigh as he threw himself onto the ground beside her. Moments later he heard a voice from below again. She reached for his hand, her fingers clamping on his. Although he squeezed back reassuringly, he had no i
dea what was going to happen next.
Below them men were talking.
“The cave goes back for a long way. With low narrow tunnels. You could get lost back there easy.”
“There’s some kind of vertical passageway.”
“They could have gotten out that way.” The speaker was Trainer. “Preston, you climb up there and see.”
“And if he’s up there?”
“Shoot him.”
“He’s in a better position to shoot me than I am to shoot him,” the troop protested.
The militia leader’s voice turned dangerous. “Are you refusing a direct order?”
“No, sir.”
The kid was right, of course. Well, not about getting shot. The minute he got to the top, Jack was going to kick him in the face and send him tumbling back down the shaft, hopefully onto Trainer’s head. Nobody down there would be sure he hadn’t lost his grip on the rock walls and fallen. Which would give them more time to get away. But to where exactly?
He moved his mouth to Morgan’s ear. In a barely audible whisper, he said, “Did you have a chance to check this place? Did you see a way out?”
She shook her head, then edged to the side of the ledge and looked over. When she gasped, he tensed.
“There are more guys down there. Maybe they’re coming up here.”
His chest tightened, until he lifted his head and followed her gaze. It was Shane and Max.
“My partners,” he whispered, thankful and a little surprised that they had come. He hadn’t expected it, since he’d known Cunningham didn’t want any ties from the man known as Jack Barnes to Rockfort Security—or to himself.
He stood and waved to them and saw them zero in on him. But he had to duck back down when his attention was drawn from the shaft. The sound of heavy breathing told him that Preston was almost at their level.
Seconds later, the top of the man’s head appeared.
Jack lunged for him, shoving him backward, into the shaft. He lost his grip on the rock and went hurtling down, landing on the stone below with a sickening thud.
“Christ!” someone gasped.
“Is he dead?”