Bear Claw Conspiracy

by Jessica Andersen

  But part of his fury was self-directed. He hadn’t caught on. The bastards had torched his station, yet he hadn’t made the leap to the wildfires.

  A hand touched his, making him aware that he had grabbed onto a nearby doorframe, was clutching it so tightly his knuckles were white, his fingers cramping. Gigi. He knew it was her without looking, felt the sizzle in her touch, the compassion.

  But when he looked down into her eyes, he only saw annoyance.

  “You don’t have a crystal ball, remember?” She tapped his bloodless knuckles. “I don’t care how good your hindsight is, you couldn’t have seen this one coming. So just take a breath, cut yourself some slack, and focus on what we can do something about, which is what’s happening right now, and what we can plan in the next couple of hours.”

  And the damn thing was, she was right. In three days, she had gotten to know him better than…hell, anyone in his life except, perhaps, for Ian.

  He took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks,” he said quietly, privately. Then, raising his voice, he said, “Sorry, Jack. You were saying?”

  “Here’s the thing. MacDonald doesn’t know who he’s working for or why this guy—it’s a guy’s voice on the phone, that’s all I’m getting—wants our attention on the foothills. Or if he does know, he’s not saying.” He paused. “Apparently Tanya saw and took something she shouldn’t have, and the voice on the phone told MacDonald and a couple of his buddies to shut her up and destroy the evidence. The next thing they know, Matt and Gigi are on the list, too, because they’re getting too close. And then…wait, hang on.”

  Voices murmured in the background, and then Jack cursed viciously.

  Returning to the call, he said, “Okay, forget that stuff. You guys need to get on this, fast. Apparently MacDonald was headed up to meet up with the others and get new marching orders. They’re going to hit Sector Nine this afternoon.”

  Matt’s blood went from ice to a vicious boil. “Sons. Of. Bitches. If Nine goes, the whole damn park goes.” Then it wouldn’t matter what Proudfoot sold or didn’t sell—it would all be worthless char.

  “The meeting,” Gigi said urgently. She tapped the note. “That’s got to be it.”

  A ping sounded from his phone, indicating that the download had been completed. “About freaking time.” He grabbed the phone and said to Jack, “Call us if you get anything more out of MacDonald.” Toggling over to the other screen, he took a look at the map the GPS coordinates had pulled up, and nearly groaned. “Perfect. That’s just freaking perfect.”

  “Where are they meeting?” Tucker asked.

  “The Forgotten.” Matt looked around the room, trying to stow his emotions and deal with the problem right in front of him, namely how they could get out there in time. “We need a damn chopper.” But the functional birds were all out at Sectors Five and Six, and most of them were limping—there wasn’t enough time to get one out to the Forgotten.

  “What about Fax’s helicopter?” Gigi said. “The one with all the bells and whistles?”

  “That might actually work,” Tucker said, surprised. “Last I checked, it was at the old airfield near Station Eight, on the west side.”

  Alyssa was already on her phone. “Chelsea? We need your help. Well, actually, we need your chopper and your pilot.”

  “Come on.” Matt said, heading for the door. “We’ll meet them there.” Entering a sort of highly functional haze that wasn’t quite his old crisis response mode, he hit redial, and when Williams answered, said, “If you can pawn off MacDonald, meet us at the old airstrip just past Ranger Station Eight. Wait. What’s your closest station right now?”

  “Um. Ten, I think. I’m pretty far up.”

  “Good. Go there first. Someone will meet you with guns. Grab them and meet me at the airstrip.”

  He powered past the uniforms and hit the street, then turned back to Tucker. “We’ll see you there?” He was asking about more than just a rendezvous.

  “Absolutely,” Alyssa said. When Tucker turned on her, she glared right back. “I’m. Fine.”

  Leaving them to their fight, he ducked into the rental as Gigi launched herself into the other side and went for her seat belt. Her eyes gleamed. “Finally, a big foam finger.”

  She terrified him.

  Tabling that for the moment, he put in a call to his quarters, hoping someone was there. Bert answered, “Station Fourteen.”

  For a second Matt couldn’t say anything, as the sound of the older ranger’s familiar voice slammed home how far he was from the man he’d been just a few days ago. He didn’t wish himself back up there, wasn’t pining for his solitude. He wanted to get to the airstrip and be right in the thick of things.

  He glanced at Gigi, who was on her phone, trying to get some birds diverted to fly over Sector Nine. From the looks of it, she wasn’t having much luck.

  “Boss? That you?”

  “Yeah. Sorry, Bert. Look, I’ll catch you up later. Right now, I need you to patch me through to Ten, ASAP. Get me Harvey if he’s there. Once you’ve done that, get all of your volunteers headed for Sector Nine. There’s a chance someone’s going to try to torch it.”

  “They do that, and the whole place is toast.”

  “Which is why we need to make sure it doesn’t happen. So get me Harvey, and get the others moving.”

  “On it.”

  As Matt steered the rental onto the highway leading out to the city and passed a big sign for the state park, the head of Station Ten came on the line. “Blackthorn? Harvey here.”

  “There’s a cop headed your way, name is Williams. He needs whatever serious firepower you’ve got, with full ammo. Hook him up and then spread the word that you may have firebugs incoming to Sector Nine within the next few hours. I’ll get you descriptions and more details when I can, but until then, do your best. Watch the roads, the skies, whatever it takes.”

  “Blackthorn, what the devil is going on?”

  “Someone is trying to keep our attention off the Forgotten. That’s all I know.” How the mayor—or his buyer—figured into it was something they would need to look long and hard at. Later.

  Harvey cursed and cut the connection. But he was a good man, a good ranger; he would get the job done.

  Gigi ended her call, shaking her head. “Maybe. That’s all I could get out of them. A maybe. They didn’t seem to want to hear that if Sector Nine goes, it won’t matter that Five and Six are burning—the whole damn place is going to go up.” She was tight-lipped and grim, but her anger shifted to something more personal as she looked at him. “It’s not a very big helicopter.”

  He nodded. “Pilot plus three if you skip the copilot. Maybe one more if you get real friendly. She’s built for speed and fuel efficiency, but the trade-off is a low payload, and not much space.”

  Her brows drew together. “You’d better not be thinking about leaving me behind. This is my case and I’m your partner. Right?”

  He hesitated. “Tucker’s got the final say. He’s got the rank, not me.”

  But Matt was going to do his damnedest to make sure that she didn’t get anywhere near the Forgotten.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gigi fumed in silence for the rest of the drive. But when they pulled onto the deserted airstrip and came into view of the sleek black agency chopper, she said quietly, “I’ve earned this one and you know it.”

  Matt cut a hard-eyed look at her. “Life isn’t fair.”

  “You said the pilot plus four. That’s you, Jack, Fax and me.” When he glared, she just lifted her chin. “I’m a better shot than Jack.”

  “Not by much. And you forgot Tucker.”

  “No, I didn’t.” They both knew he wasn’t getting on that helicopter. Even if the detective was willing to leave Alyssa, he was too far off his game thinking about the baby to be any good to anyone right now.

  Matt parked out of range of the rotor sweep and they got out of the rental just as Tucker’s SUV rolled into view.

  Gigi came aroun
d the hood of the car and squared off opposite Matt. Her blood was running high with righteous indignation, but that didn’t stop her from feeling the inevitable skitter of heat that hit her whenever she looked at him. It was stronger than ever now, and she was still storing up those damn details: she was conscious of the tight worry in his expression, the stark determination that wasn’t the cop or the ranger, it was, quite simply, him.

  “Gigi, please don’t do this,” he said quietly. “Not now. Later, after you’re all the way trained, I’ll…” He trailed off with a small shake of his head.

  “You can’t even say it, can you?” Her heart sank. She had known that it would probably come down to this between them. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. She wasn’t ready for the flameout yet.

  Tucker parked nearby and climbed out of the SUV. Alyssa’s door opened, but it was a moment before her feet appeared. Gigi was deeply worried for her friend, but she couldn’t afford to let Matt win on this one. Not if she intended to hold her own in whatever happened between them next.

  “This isn’t about us,” Matt said urgently. His eyes were stark. “It’s a tactical decision. Yes, you’re a sharpshooter, but you don’t have any actual live firefighting experience, and we’re not going to be dealing with just MacDonald this time. We don’t have any intel, and there’s no way to get a satellite feed in time. We’re going in blind, with no clue what we’re going to find when we get there. Admit it, that’s not the sort of scenario you’ve trained on.”

  He was right, of course. Hazardous response, especially in the city, was all about collecting information before and during the op, and using it to make the best plans and decisions. This, on the other hand, was going to be a “hit the ground and go” scenario, with the added risks that brought.

  She took a step toward him, until they were close enough to touch each other, close enough to kiss. “Nobody is going to watch your back the way I will,” she said with quiet determination. “If the roles were reversed, and I was the one who had to go because it was my territory, you’d be fighting for a spot on that chopper.”

  “I would kill for it,” he said simply.

  His stark words and the punch of emotion in his voice put a lump in her throat. “Then you know how I feel.”

  “Fine. Great. How about picturing this: we’re on the ground, there are men shooting at us—real, live men, not cardboard cutouts—and I’m so damned terrified for you that I’m not watching my own six. Which is fine, because you’ve got my back. But I’m also not on top of what’s going on with the others. We get scattered, pinned down, freaking gunned down because I can’t think straight while you’re out there.”

  She didn’t know how so much aching tenderness could coexist with so much pain. But somehow it did, sliding through her and leaving her bleeding even as she wished she could back down and give him what he wanted.

  She couldn’t, though. In the end, it turned out she was a Lynd all the way, after all.

  Reaching up, she smoothed the neckline of his T-shirt. “This is who I am, Matt. This is what I want. If you can’t accept me being out in the field, right now, today, then…” she faltered, but made herself keep going, “then don’t bother calling when this is over.”

  “This isn’t about a date,” he grated. “There’s already way more than that between us, and you damn well know it. Why do we need to do this right now? We can take time to figure this out and find some sort of compromise we can both live with. Preferably not in the middle of an op.”

  His face was stark, his eyes as close to begging as they got. Her heart twisted—she wanted to give in to him so badly, but it was that very urge that had her standing her ground. If she gave in now, she would lose a piece of herself. “We can absolutely discuss this later, after we finish this op.”

  Matt raised his voice. “Tucker, as ranking—”

  Alyssa gave a low cry, clutched her stomach, and doubled over. She might have gone down, but Tucker was there to catch her shoulders and prop her back up, his touch incredibly gentle, his face simultaneously tender and frustrated beyond words as he said, “Seriously. Are you ready to ’fess up yet, or would a nice helicopter ride feel good right about now?”

  “Fine,” Alyssa said between gritted teeth.

  “Fine, what?”

  “I’m. In. Labor.” She spaced the words, looking furious, but the moment they were out there, her eyes filled with tears. She looked at him with mingled terror and exhilaration and whispered shakily, “Hey, McDermott. We’re going to have a baby.”

  “Yeah. We are.” Tucker turned to Matt, jaw set. “I’m putting you in charge, effective immediately.”

  Gigi’s stomach sank.

  “Then here are your orders,” Matt said. “Take Alyssa and Gigi back to the city, and don’t let either of them out of your sight.”

  “Matt, please.” Gigi grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his solid strength as her instincts warned that she needed to go with him, be with him. “I can handle myself. You know I can.”

  She saw the things he had learned over the past few days battle it out against history and loss. He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Gigi. I’m…” He stretched out a hand to her, but when she backed away, he let it drop. To Tucker, he said harshly, “Take her. Watch her. I’m counting on you to…I’m just counting on you. Don’t let me down.”

  Face haggard, Tucker nodded. “We need to go now. We can’t wait for the others.”

  Matt nodded. “Go. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Matt,” Gigi whispered. Her throat ached with the tears she would shed later; her chest burned where her heart had broken. “Please. Let me be me.”

  But he turned away and said harshly, “Get her out of here.”

  Someone grabbed her arm; she jerked back and raised her fists, then froze when she saw Alyssa. She let down her guard. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “I know. And I am, too, but we really need to go.” She pressed her hands to the sides of her belly. “And I mean now.”

  Gigi looked back at Matt, met his eyes, and felt his pain as well as her own. “Be careful, damn you.” Then she headed for the SUV with Tucker and Alyssa, and she didn’t let herself look back.

  The next few minutes were a whirl: another contraction hit while she and Tucker were getting Alyssa into the car, and then they were in and moving, with Gigi propping up Alyssa in the backseat and Tucker driving like a man possessed.

  Gigi waited until they were past the first hangar and out of Matt’s line of sight. Then she said, “Forgive me.”

  Alyssa craned to look at her. “For what?”

  “This.” Gigi pulled her Beretta, thumbed the safety and pointed it at Tucker’s head. “Pull over.”

  He didn’t even flinch. “I can’t, Gigi. He’s right. Fax, Jack and the pilot all have loads more training than you do.”

  “Check your text messages. Jack got hung up at Station Ten and Fax and the pilot are still forty minutes out. They’re not going to make it in time.” She racked the action. “Pull over. I can’t let him do it.” And please don’t make me make this any worse. She had the perfect hostage right there in her arms.

  “Do what?”

  “Go after the bastards on his own, flying solo. Literally.”

  Tucker hit the brake and brought the SUV to a shuddering, screeching stop. He spun toward her, and for a second she thought he was going to come over the seat at her and fight for the gun. But he snapped, “Put the damn gun away and start talking. How many chopper hours does he have?”

  “I don’t know. But he knew her specs right off the top of his head, and his father died in a helicopter crash. National Guard. My guess is that he got good enough not to be afraid.” It was what she would have done.

  “I know for damn sure he hasn’t flown since he’s been here.”

  “Then let’s hope it’s like riding a bicycle.” She reached for the door.

  Alyssa grabbed her arm, fingers digging in. “This is crazy. You can
’t go. You don’t know for sure that he can even fly the thing. And what are you going to do when you get there? He’s right—you don’t have a plan, intel, enough manpower. It could be suicide!”

  Gigi covered Alyssa’s hand with her own and squeezed. “I’m not being stupid this time. I’m doing what I need to do. He needs me.” Another, more profound sentiment echoed through her, but she kept it to herself.

  Alyssa turned weepy eyes on her husband. “Tell her she can’t do this. Make it an order. Do something.”

  For a second, he hesitated. Then he hit the locks and opened her door. “Go. You don’t have much time.”

  “Tucker!” Alyssa flared.

  “Enough!” he snapped back. “You think I like this? If you hadn’t insisted on coming out with me—”

  “Stop it, both of you,” Gigi said, sharply enough to have them subsiding. She hugged Alyssa tightly, reached up to grip Tucker’s shoulder and slipped out of the SUV, then leaned back in to say, “Go have your baby. Let us worry about the other stuff.”

  “Be careful,” Tucker grated. “That’s an order.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll be good.” To Alyssa, she said, “Ten bucks says I get to the hospital before Baby M puts in an in-person appearance.” She shut the door and stepped back as Tucker cranked the transmission and peeled away.

  Alyssa pressed her face to the window, spreading a hand in farewell, or maybe to wish her luck.

  But as she set off through the echoing hangar, hoping to get around behind the sleek black helicopter and use the code Fax had texted her to sneak in through the rear hatch, she heard the sound of rotors and her heart stopped.

  Her luck had already run out. She was too late.

  MATT HADN’T FLOWN IN nearly eight years and this baby was way more than he’d ever handled before, but she was fairly idiotproof—to the point that a chopper could be, anyway. Between his having chatted up the pilot the other day, and Fax—another lone ranger type—texting him the codes when it became clear that he and the pilot weren’t going to make it in time, Matt maneuvered it off the ground without too much trouble.