by Cassie Miles
Walking away quickly, he ascended the staircase leading out of the dungeon. At the door, he looked back over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Snake.”
The heavy wooden door closed behind him.
Sierra stared into the black eyes of the big man. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Your Cherokee name?”
“Deer Hunter,” he rumbled.
She tried to remember everything Trevor had told her about the beliefs of his tribe. “Listen to me, Deer Hunter. If you harm me, or Trevor, whose Cherokee name is Blue Wolf, you will never find peace. In the afterlife, we’ll be ghosts and we’ll find you.”
He hauled the body of the guard to the hole in the floor and shoved him through.
“Please,” she continued desperately. “Please, Deer Hunter. You’ve got to help us.”
He lifted Trevor under the arms and dragged him across the floor toward the hole.
Sierra couldn’t stand by and watch while Trevor’s neck was broken. “No,” she shouted. “You can’t kill him.”
She leaped toward the big, dark man. With her cuffed hands, she battered his arm.
He gave her a shove, knocking her to the floor. “I will have my freedom.”
And that was all that mattered to him. There was no way she could fight this man.
Sierra scrambled across the stones. She was on her knees beside Trevor’s unconscious body. Her cuffed hands rested upon his chest, above his heart. Leaning down, she kissed his lips for the last time.
He gave a groan and stirred. Life was so cruel. He was returning to consciousness in time to feel the pain of dying.
“Sleep, my darling,” she said softly. “I love you.”
These might be the last words she uttered in this lifetime. Though she and Trevor had shared only a brief moment of happiness, she had that joy to carry her into the next world. If there was any justice, they would be reunited.
In this reality, there was no chance of escape.
Chapter Fourteen
Deer Hunter grasped her shoulder and wrenched her away from Trevor’s unconscious body. He pointed to the hole in the floor. “You go first.”
Holding her cuffed wrists in front of her face for protection, Sierra staggered back against the stone wall of the dungeon cell.
“Go,” he snarled.
She shook her head. “I’m not going to make it any easier for you to kill me.”
“I won’t kill you, woman. Not unless you wish to die.”
Unsure that she’d heard him correctly, she lowered her hands. In the dim light, she peered into the scarred face of this violent man. He was someone to be feared. Moments ago, she’d seen him murder the prison guard. “You won’t hurt me?”
He pointed to Trevor. “Your man is a warrior. Cherokee like me. To take his life would dishonor our fathers.”
She believed him. Deer Hunter had no reason to waste his breath in lying to her. He wasn’t going to kill them. “What should I do?”
“Go in the hole.”
Sierra obeyed, lowering herself into the shallow space. Once there, her head was even with the stone floor of the dungeon. The hardpacked earth beneath her feet slanted sharply. When she gave a nudge to the dead guard sprawled beside her, he rolled down to a deeper level, where she could barely see him in the thick darkness. Green had said this was a mine shaft that led to freedom, but she couldn’t see the escape route.
Reaching up with her cuffed hands, she helped Deer Hunter lower Trevor into the cave. Gently, they carried her fallen warrior to the lower level, where the floor was flat.
Deer Hunter returned to the opening above them. With an impressive exertion of strength, he lifted the flagstone and covered the hole.
Absolute darkness surrounded her, and she clung to Trevor’s jacket. He was beginning to wake up. His arm moved, and he groaned.
She heard Deer Hunter slide down beside her. In a low rumble, he said, “I will leave you now. Blue Wolf will care for you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Deer Hunter.”
“My freedom is thanks enough.”
She heard him moving away, but couldn’t tell which direction he was going. Never in her life had she imagined a place could be so dark.
She crawled across the cold dirt floor, fumbling until she found the body of the prison guard. Not allowing herself to think about the fact that she was touching a dead man, she searched his pockets until she found the key to her handcuffs and freed herself.
So far, so good. She was making progress.
In the dark, she heard Trevor draw a shaky breath. “Sierra.”
“I’m here.” She scooted toward the sound of his voice. “I’m right here.”
“I can’t see.”
When she touched him, he fumbled until he held her. His hands were shaking. “Are we dead?”
“Not yet, partner.”
The profound darkness enclosed them like a shroud.
WITH GREAT SATISFACTION, Boone Fowler listened to the phone call from Warden Green. Sierra and her half-breed were dead.
The timing was perfect. Boone had received confirmation on their next mission—an attack at the heart of the corrupt government that sought to destroy the real freedoms of the people. In only a few more minutes, a helicopter would land outside their hideout and take them from Montana.
There was one more task Boone needed to handle before their departure. He placed a call to the Big Sky Bounty Hunter headquarters.
When someone answered, he said, “Tell Cameron Murphy that his Special Forces unit will be attacked and destroyed as a lesson to him. The deaths of those men are on his head.”
With a click of his thumb, he ended the call.
Boone expected the bounty hunters to react to this challenge. With no thought for their own safety, they’d stupidly make plans to rescue and protect their comrades-in-arms. It was their credo: never leave a man behind.
All the while, Boone would have the upper hand. He was calling the shots.
Life didn’t get much better than this.
IN THE CAVE, enclosed by stifling darkness, Trevor faced the terror of his worst nightmare—being confined. He was sightless. Trapped. With no escape.
Where was he? How did he get here? His heart pounded so hard it felt as if it might burst. Can’t think. Can’t see. Can’t breathe.
“There’s a way out of here,” Sierra said. “Trevor, do you hear me?”
He couldn’t show her his fear. Didn’t want her to panic. “What happened?”
“Long story.” Her voice quavered. “We’re in a mine shaft under the dungeon. This is how the Militia escaped. You were right about Warden Green. He helped the Militia, and he arranged for Lyle to be murdered.”
Though he knew she was telling him important information, only one word penetrated Trevor’s dread, and that was escape. “How do we get out of here?”
“Don’t know.” Her fingers touched his face. “How’s your head? You got whacked pretty hard.”
He was too overwhelmed to feel the pain. If given the choice, he’d take a knife in the gut instead of this dark confinement. But nobody had given him an option. He was here, trapped in this hellhole. He had to deal with it.
Disoriented, he thrust one arm straight out. He groped. There was nothing but empty air. He couldn’t tell right from left, up from down, couldn’t even see his own hand. They’d never escape. They would run out of air. His lungs ached from breathing so hard.
“This way,” he muttered. By sheer force of habit, he took control, inching across the floor until he felt a wall. His fingers clawed at the dirt. The wall was unstable, apt to disintegrate and crumble. They’d be buried alive. I can’t do this. I can’t move.
Feeling hopeless, he leaned back against the wall. The pressure of his panic tightened around his throat like a noose. He couldn’t breathe. “Sierra, I want you to go on without me.”
“Are you nuts?” Her snippy voice cut through the thick darkness. “I go nowhere without you.”
“Just leave.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m going to abandon the sexiest man on the planet.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. “You owe me eight hundred thousand in kisses, and I intend to collect.”
Though it seemed impossible, the terror loosened its grasp upon him. He took a breath and filled his lungs. This was better, much better.
His hand was drawn to her waist. She felt solid, real, strong. His fingers crept up her rib cage. His despair waned as he cupped the fullness of her breast. “If I can find this in the dark, I guess I’ll be okay.”
“Too bad it doesn’t light up.”
“Come closer, Sierra.”
He embraced her and drew strength from her resilience, her stubbornness, her affection. As long as she was with him, Trevor knew he could survive. For her sake.
“Cell phone,” he said.
“Nice thought. But I don’t think you’re going to get a signal down here.”
He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. When he flipped it open, the faint green light shone like a beacon.
“Much better,” she said.
“Just great.” Now he could see how narrow the tunnel was. The walls began to close in once more. “Have I ever mentioned that I’m a little bit claustrophobic?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said.
With his back against the wall, he pushed himself to a standing position. “Do you have any idea which way to go?”
“Not a clue.”
“You hold the phone,” he said.
With one hand on the wall and his other arm wrapped tightly around her, he moved forward a step, then another and another. “The floor slants upward.”
“So?”
“A mine shaft would be drilled down. So the entrance has to be uphill. As long as we keep going up, we’re headed out.”
They made good progress until they came to a fork in the tunnel.
Sierra held the phone for better light, then she pointed. “That way is up.”
“Got it.” But he hated to let go of the wall. Without that anchor, it felt as if he would drown in the inky darkness. Taking a breath, he plunged forward until his fingers touched another wall.
They followed the tunnel around a sharp turn. The floor kept rising. There was another fork.
“This place is a labyrinth,” she said. “I think we’re going in circles.”
“We’re closer to the exit.” He could feel it. The air had changed. The faintest whisper of a breeze touched his cheek. “Almost there.”
And yet they kept stumbling through the endless passageway. It felt as if they’d been there for days. His throat was parched. The back of his head where he’d been clubbed was beginning to ache.
“Stand still,” she said.
Without asking why, he did as she asked. From behind them, he heard the crunch of a footstep on gravel. They were not alone in the tunnel.
When he looked over his shoulder, Trevor saw nothing. The illumination from the phone didn’t shine far enough. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Another twist, another fork. He listened for another sound behind them but heard nothing. The person following them was stealthy.
Around one more sharp angle, they stepped into a wider space that was familiar to Trevor. He’d been here before, on a search with the bounty hunters. This cave—the interior of an abandoned copper mine—was a hideout the Militia had used after they escaped from the Fortress.
More importantly, Trevor saw the way out—a gray glimmer. He moved quickly toward it. Heavy boards covered the exit, but he was so anxious to escape that he tore through them.
He stepped outside. The gush of fresh air intoxicated his senses. He was free.
“We made it!” Sierra shouted.
He yanked her into his arms and twirled her around. In the fading light of day, he peered into her dancing eyes. “If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have gotten out of there.”
“You need me.” She grinned impishly. “I like that.”
He kissed her like there was no tomorrow. When their lips parted, he whispered, “We need to find a bedroom. Fast.”
She nodded and handed him the cell phone. “Call your buddies for a pickup.”
Trevor glanced back at the gaping mouth of the abandoned mine shaft. He’d been careless. Before kissing Sierra, he should have made sure they weren’t being followed. Yet he saw no sign of pursuit.
As they followed a sloping path toward a stream, he put through a call to bounty hunter headquarters.
Clark answered and snapped with uncharacteristic impatience. “Where have you been, Blackhaw?”
“What’s up?”
“I can’t tell you over the phone. We need you here. Now.”
Trevor gave directions to their location and ended the call. “There’s some new development.”
“About the Militia?”
“I suppose.”
To be sure, Trevor cared if they were hot on the trail of Boone Fowler and his men, but it wasn’t the first thing on his mind. He hoped it would wait until tomorrow.
He led her to a flat rock beside a pine tree, and they sat down. Again he gazed at the mine shaft. “We heard someone following.”
“Deer Hunter,” she said. “That’s the Cherokee name for the man they called Snake. He killed the prison guard who whacked you.”
“You saw this?”
She nodded. “Snapped his neck like a twig. Then Warden Green left him alone with us. He was supposed to murder us, too. And leave our bodies in the mine shaft so we would never be found.”
A clever move on Green’s part. Without their bodies, a police investigation would ultimately stall. “Why didn’t Deer Hunter do as he was ordered?”
“Because you’re a warrior. To kill you would disrespect your ancestors.”
Nodding, Trevor accepted her explanation. Though Deer Hunter was on the other side of the law, there was a bond of blood between them. Trevor had felt it the first time he saw the dangerous man with the Cherokee tattoo. “He must have gotten lost in the labyrinth and followed us.”
As they watched, the big man stepped out of the cave. Silently, he raised his arms to the sky, embracing his freedom. He glanced toward them, then walked in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
At another time, under other circumstances, Trevor might have pursued this escaped fugitive. But not today. “Da-na-da-go-hv-i.” Goodbye, my brother.
BACK AT THE BOUNTY HUNTER headquarters, new developments had created a stir. All the men, except for Murphy, who was still recovering in the hospital, were there. With all of them poised for action, Sierra figured the testosterone level topped the chart. Before they started beating their chests and howling, she locked herself in the bathroom to take a shower.
The last time she’d bathed, Trevor had been with her. As she stood under the pulsing water, she closed her eyes and remembered his muscular arms wrapped around her. Was it possible to feel safe and sexy at the same time? He’d promised her a bedroom tonight.
Her eyelids snapped open. It wasn’t likely that they’d have private time together. The bounty hunters were planning a complex maneuver. They’d received an anonymous phone call threatening their former Special Forces unit, stationed in North Carolina. Further intelligence confirmed that Special Forces was about to be deployed in a surgical strike against the Lukinberg terrorists.
The bounty hunters wanted to be there in the midst of the action. They wanted to mobilize, to go to the East Coast and thwart the attack against Special Forces. It was a matter of pride and loyalty—a code of honor that she could only understand in the context of Deer Hunter. Though he was a killer, he’d spared Trevor and her. His reasons had to do with brotherhood and the respect of one warrior for another.
She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and allowed the steaming water to slide down her back. She could understand the code of honor, but she didn’t like it.
If she had anything to say, Tr
evor would stay with her, safe in her arms. She’d come too close to losing him.
After she toweled dry and dressed in jeans and a clean T-shirt, she returned to the living room. Trevor pulled her forward. “Tell them what happened at the Fortress.”
The eyes of all the bounty hunters were upon her. A less confident woman might have been intimidated, but Sierra was nothing if not mouthy. “First thing,” she said, “Trevor used his interrogation techniques on Green. Very impressive. Green practically confessed that he’d arranged to have Lyle killed.”
Trevor brushed off the compliment. “Tell them about the tunnel.”
“Down in the lowest level of the Fortress is an area called the dungeon. Under one of the flagstones in the last cell is an escape tunnel that leads into an abandoned mine shaft. Green arranged for the Militia to escape that way.”
“Remember the copper mine hideout we found?” Trevor asked. “It connects with the Fortress.”
“How did the warden get involved with the Militia?” Mike asked. “He arranged their escape. Why?”
“For a payoff,” Trevor said. “The warden runs on greed.”
“But the Militia isn’t well-funded,” Mike said.
“Exactly right,” Trevor said. “Somebody else is footing the bills. Somebody who also financed the attack on the Galleria. That’s who we need to go after.”
“Somebody who is using them,” Mike said. “A mastermind.”
“We need to know that person’s identity,” Trevor said. “We’ve got to talk to the warden.”
“Later,” Riley said as he rose to his feet. “That’s something we can take care of after we get back from the East Coast.”
“It can’t wait,” Trevor said. “Green’s retirement starts today. He’s flying out of here on a chartered plane. After that, he’ll be gone. I want to go after him. Immediately.”
“To interrogate him,” Mike said. “You’re the right man for that job, Blackhaw.”
The other men exchanged glances, communicating without words. They all nodded.
“Get back here on the double,” Riley said. “Several of us are deploying tonight… You included.”