by Debra
“That little doohickey will show the billionaires who should be boss, right?” Here we go, Will thought as Lancaster abruptly turned on his heel and stalked back, a ferocious scowl on his face.
“This ‘doohickey’ can wipe your bank account in minutes. It will show the corporate mongers that they can’t steal from the innovators.” He shook the black square in Will’s face. “My design, my creation will put the power where it belongs.”
Power to the crazies. Not a great global policy.
“I was robbed,” Lancaster continued in a calmer voice, “my career and reputation destroyed.”
Will didn’t see how kidnapping and murder would rectify anything, but he kept quiet.
“This device is literally the key to the kingdom that should have been mine a lifetime ago.”
“You sure can hold a grudge.”
“What I hold,” he said, voice rising once more, “is justice. They will pay. One man, one program, one company at a time.”
The man had mastered dramatic flair. Will might’ve laughed in his face, had Lancaster been less insane. “Were you ever in the theater? When you weren’t working on the doohickey, that is.”
“Imbecile.” With that declaration, Lancaster left Will and Max to bring up the rear of the column as Charly guided them through a thick stand of trees. The trail couldn’t be too far. When they got there, Lancaster wouldn’t need hostages anymore.
“How much farther, Charly?”
“Don’t answer that,” Lancaster barked. “No more talking.”
“You’ll kill me anyway. I’ll talk if I want to,” Will muttered. “Hey, Charly, are there any snakes around here?”
“You’re obnoxious,” Max said, smacking the back of Will’s head.
“It’s a valid concern.” He should have insisted the two of them create a code phrase, but he’d been distracted by the woman as much as by outliving Lancaster.
“Stick to the clear areas and it won’t be a problem,” she called over her shoulder, against Lancaster’s wishes.
“Just shoot him now,” Scott ordered. “Better to dump the body up here than closer to the trail.”
Charly stopped and faced Lancaster. “You said you’d let us go.”
“He’s a problem.”
“You’re the problem,” she snapped.
“That’s hardly a rational argument,” Lancaster replied. “I’m surrounded by idiots. Can you keep him quiet?”
Will met her pleading gaze, saw her shoulders go stiff. “Hush,” she said without any heat.
“Last chance,” Lancaster said to Will. To Charly, he gave a nod. “Go.”
Scott jerked his chin at Max, and Will braced for the inevitable. With plenty of cover here for Charly to use for an escape, he decided to let them try and take him out.
Max kicked the back of Will’s knees, sending him to the ground. Instead of sprawling, Will tucked and rolled, using the momentum to barrel into Scott. The mercenary leader went headlong into a tree trunk, knocking himself out.
Shouts and oaths bounced off the trees. Will scrambled for cover as Max started shooting.
“Will!”
“Run, Charly!” He caught the flash of color as Charly bolted out of sight. Smart. Let him handle this.
Max came at him, gun drawn. Will jumped to his feet, daring the mercenary to fire. Max bobbled the weapon, eyes going wide as Will charged him and the shot went high.
He planted a bone-crushing roundhouse kick into Max’s ribs and the mercenary fell to his knees, wheezing.
A scream split the air, and Will jerked in that direction, praying Charly wasn’t the source.
He quickly pinned Max to the ground, his boot on the man’s throat. “Surrender or die.”
Max spread his hands away from his body. Whatever words he was trying to utter around Will’s boot sounded cooperative enough.
Will eased back, just enough so Max could catch his breath.
Looking around, he saw Scott still unconscious and no sign of Charly or Lancaster. He maneuvered until his hands were in front of him. “Cut me loose,” he ordered. “Try anything and I’ll kill you.”
Max resembled a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
“Use my knife. Slowly.” When he was free, Will rubbed his wrists, then planted a knockout punch to Max’s jaw. Dragging Max over to join Scott, he reclaimed his weapons and seized their packs and the weapons they’d brought in. Binding the men together back to back, he left them next to the tree.
“Charly?”
The complete lack of a reply turned the trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades to icy trepidation. Pausing every few steps to listen, he circled the area. No sign of her or Lancaster. Will resumed the route she’d been on, certain he’d find her right away.
He didn’t.
Crap.
Lancaster wouldn’t go down without a fight, but Charly was a scrapper fueled with determination to live. What did the persistent silence mean? It crawled under his skin, making him uneasy.
He looked up, watching the trees for the clues Charly had taught him. Nothing moved. Not a curious squirrel or scolding bird. Everything had taken cover, hiding from the loud humans. Everything.
Charly would’ve done the same. Moving with caution, ready and eager to combat any strike, he stepped, listened and stepped again. If Lancaster had found her or killed her, he’d be gloating or barreling down the mountain in an attempt to outrun Will.
And if Charly had subdued Lancaster, she wouldn’t be hiding.
Damn it. If the roles were reversed, Charly would’ve spotted him by now. She’d be working her way around to help him out. He couldn’t let his mind drift, couldn’t afford the negativity of comparing his skills to hers. He might not know every inch of this particular landscape, but he knew his personal strengths.
He backtracked to where he’d left the gear he’d taken from Scott and Max. Picking up a radio, he double clicked twice, the signal he’d seen Scott use to get Lancaster’s attention.
“Hold,” came the whispered reply.
Will repeated the signal.
This time the single word, packed full of irritation, was accompanied by the hoot of an owl. He might not know exactly which type of owl she’d mimicked but he knew any owl worth the name was sound asleep this time of day.
Will smiled to himself and waited. She made the call once more and it was enough to give him a direction.
In a perfect world he’d pinch Lancaster between Charly and himself. He wasn’t sure they had that much luck left. His knife in hand, the long blade back against his forearm, he advanced, using the trees as cover.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of Lancaster’s sleeve. The man was crouched low behind a tree. Tired of playing cat and mouse with this jerk, Will was tempted to throw the knife and be done.
The required explanation and apology he’d owe Director Casey flitted through his mind. The nation supposedly needed the man alive. Resigned, Will ignored temptation and stuck with procedure, silently creeping closer to the target.
He recognized the jacket was a trap a moment too late—the blow landed hard across his shoulders. Lancaster followed up the surprise attack with a heavy branch he brandished like a baseball bat.
Dodging and ducking, Will’s feet slipped on the forest floor as he blocked the vicious swings. He gripped the knife, but couldn’t get close enough to use it. Couldn’t get clear enough to throw it.
The radio at his belt crackled with voices, but the words were garbled, his mind fully occupied with his battle for survival. “Go for help,” he hollered, not even knowing if Charly could hear him. He had to buy her enough time to escape. To live.
Will knew hand-to-hand combat. He faced Lancaster as he would an angry bear and stayed alert of his surroundings so he wouldn’t run out of room. His fighting sense had been honed to a razor-sharp edge, and he knew how to learn from every engagement. There were solutions, even when fighting a man mad with desperation. Will’s real disadvantage was keeping said m
adman alive.
On a pained shriek, Lancaster suddenly went down, his white-knuckled hands still locked around the branch. He rolled to his side, and Will saw a knife, the hilt decorated with a mosaic turquoise feather, protruding from the man’s calf. Over the fallen man, Will met Charly’s enigmatic dark eyes. “Nice throw.”
“You had him,” she said. “I just got impatient.”
He nodded, winked. “There are times when patience is overrated.”
A smile bloomed across her face, and his heart tripped a little as it recovered from the fight.
“The owl call was a nice touch.”
“I thought the same about the radio. He was almost on me at that point.”
Will marched up to Lancaster and yanked the branch from his hands. “You are done.”
“Who are you?”
“Just your average mailman,” Will said, grinning at Charly. “You called in the troops, right?”
“Yes. But we’re better off if we can meet them on the trail.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He flipped Lancaster to his belly and secured the man’s hands. A pat down for the Blackout Key came up empty. “Where’s the key?”
“I lost it,” Lancaster said.
“Not buying it.” He tipped his head to Charly, and she went to search Lancaster’s jacket. “Not here,” she called, kicking around the debris at the base of the tree.
Will studied Lancaster for a long moment. The dirt-smeared face and cold eyes remained smug. Even now, the man thought he could win, thought he had some play left. Will reached for the ammo holder still clipped to Lancaster’s belt. The older man grimaced and swore.
Opening the compartment, Will found the device. “Jackpot.” He patted Lancaster’s cheek. “Thanks.” Standing, he pocketed the device that had the attention of the nation’s elite security agencies.
He pulled the knife from Lancaster’s leg and cleaned the blade on his pants before handing it back to Charly.
“He can walk, but we should dress that before we move out,” she said.
Will didn’t want to do anything to assist Lancaster. The man had put them through a crucible on his selfish quest for vengeance. “Can you hold him while I go back for the other two and the packs?”
She tossed her knife from hand to hand, a wicked gleam in her midnight eyes. “No problem.”
He jogged back to where he’d left Scott and Max. Taking only the weapons, he forced the other two to haul what remained of the packs. They wouldn’t quite leave the forest as they’d found it, but it was as close as he could get.
“You’re no private consultant,” Scott griped as they set off.
“I’m a mailman,” Will said, warming to the label. A mailman had routine in every day, and enjoyed a life beyond the job. A girlfriend or wife to take on dates. Hobbies. Family past and present to celebrate with on holidays.
He thought he could get used to that. Surprisingly, he wanted to try.
The men moved sluggishly, struggling with their injuries. Will thought it might be faster to just carry them to the trail, but squashed his impatience.
“Mailman.” Scott snorted. “Right. You’ve cost me a major payday along with several good men.”
“I didn’t make you take the job,” Will replied with no sympathy. “Who cares about the money? In prison I hear the currency is different.”
Max groaned at that. “Damn you, Scott. I told you this sounded too good to be true.”
“Is Lancaster dead?” Scott asked Will.
“Not for lack of trying to get me to kill him. Attacked me with a branch.”
“Really?” Max tripped over a root and slammed into a tree. “More proof he’s a lunatic. I’m not going down for a damned lunatic.”
“You’ll keep your mouth shut,” Scott ordered.
“And let you get the better deal? No way.”
“Quiet. Save it for someone who can do something with your statement,” Will suggested, urging them along.
He didn’t want to be away from Charly any longer than necessary. She could hold her own—and would—but he wanted this over immediately, if not sooner. He had a new life waiting for him in Durango and he wanted to get started on it. He hadn’t fully appreciated the potential in this opportunity. Not until she’d opened his eyes and slipped under his well-fortified defenses.
As Charly and Lancaster came into view, Will felt himself grinning. Charly had propped Lancaster’s feet up on a log, a minimal effort at first aid or comfort. Will laughed.
He tossed her the gauze and tape from the pack and kept Lancaster in line while she dressed the knife wound. “That should hold while we walk.”
“I can’t walk.”
Will shrugged. “I’ll drag you then.” He reached for Lancaster’s wrists and nodded for Charly to lead on. It took less than a minute for Lancaster to change his mind.
Along the way, Scott, Max and Lancaster groused and argued, exchanging insults and threats. Will looked to Charly and in her quiet smile he found an echo of his thoughts. They both wanted to be rid of these men. He checked his watch, finally noticing it had taken a direct hit. Ah, well. It was fitting. The watch had been a tool since his first SEAL operation and those days were now behind him.
“How much farther?” he asked Charly.
She looked up to the sky, then turned a full circle. “I’d guess just over an hour at this pace.”
“Good.” Just over an hour until they could hand over the prisoners. A few hours of questioning, then he could get cleaned up and start moving forward with his new life.
As they ambled on, he started considering and prioritizing the best tactical approach to keep her in it with him.
* * *
CHARLY FELT THE thudding of booted feet on the ground, heard the advance well before the team rounded the curve in the trail. Relief washed over her as a black-clad tactical team, alongside men and women in local police and park ranger uniforms, surrounded them.
Lancaster’s device was quickly seized by the two members from the tactical unit. The three criminals were secured with metal cuffs at wrists and ankles and linked with belly chains and marched away.
Steve, her friend from the Durango police department, approached slowly, concern etched into his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replied, leaning her hands on her knees and gulping in air. “We’re fine.”
“Everyone in town’s been going nuts since those other two were picked up.”
She gave herself a mental high five that the ploy had worked in their favor.
“Did they talk?” Will asked, stroking her back.
“Not much beyond where they were staying and who hired them,” Steve said. “You’ll both need to come in and answer a few questions. It can wait until tomorrow if you need some time.”
Charly stood tall and linked her hand with Will’s. “Let’s just get it over with.”
They walked down to the blacktopped parking area choked with official vehicles from various agencies. If she’d had any lingering doubts that he was working on a major government operation, this sight dispelled them.
Will raised her hand to his lips. “You go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
She wanted to protest, suddenly afraid to be without him for even a moment. But that was clingy and weak. She was neither. If this was the end of her time with him, she’d manage.
Somehow.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Will repeated, giving her hand a squeeze.
She probably shouldn’t believe him. He was an undercover agent, a former SEAL, and he’d accomplished his mission. But she hoped, wished, for more time as she followed his gaze toward an oversized dark SUV with blue lights flashing from the grille and above the rearview mirror. One man, aviator sunglasses blocking his eyes, sat in the driver’s seat. The tinted windows could be hiding another person or a small committee.
She stuffed her hands into her pockets as he walked away, grateful for Steve’s soft-spoken explanation of
what she could expect when they reached the police station in Durango.
Chapter Eighteen
His patience waning with the fading sunlight, Will waited on a bench across the street for Charly to exit the police station, heedless of the rain falling steadily as the day gave way to evening. The tidy brick building had felt small and insignificant after what they’d endured. Survived. He wanted nothing more than to take Charly home and start putting all of this behind them.
But there were details to manage when men died and his word—which should have been enough—wasn’t. Evidence would be gathered. Reports filed, investigated and filed again. He reminded himself he had the utmost respect for law enforcement officials. As he felt the passing of each minute, counting them in his head, he knew it didn’t take this damn long to give a statement. She shouldn’t have to go through it alone, but he hadn’t been allowed to join her.
He could hardly charge in there now. Lancaster was in custody, the Blackout Key had been turned over to Casey and he’d kept his promise to himself. Charly was safe.
So why weren’t they done with her? He kept replaying that moment in the parking lot. He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but she’d given him that look. The one that simultaneously reassured him she could manage and worried him that she didn’t need him.
He made plans while he waited in the rain. He’d keep it simple, straightforward. She’d come to his apartment tonight, and he’d pour out a measure of tequila for both of them and just tell her all of it. At least the things she didn’t already know.
Maybe they should stop and eat first. If they talked over dinner in a public place, he’d stay calm. The pub. That would work. He’d take her to dinner, answer any remaining questions she had for him, and then they would move forward. Together. Separately wasn’t an option.
It calmed him to look at it like a mission: assess, plan and act.
Will saw Charly through the glass doors of the police station, watched her friend Steve wrap her in a gentle hug. It was nothing, Will told himself. He would comfort her from this point forward, on the rare occasions she wanted or needed comfort. Amazing and capable, that was his Charly.
The thought brought a smile to his face, and he came to his feet as she pushed the door open.