by Rachel Lee
Yes, he had. In the dark. While she was trying to be surreptitious. It didn’t bode well at all. She wished the ground would open and swallow her. The sting of humiliation began to build beside the guilt. This was, bar none, the most foolish thing she had done in her life.
“Okay,” he murmured in her ear. “You had the best of intentions. I get it. I’m even touched. But now the only thing that matters is skill.”
But she had none. Her heart sank like a stone all over again. Her stomach seemed to turn to lead.
It seemed forever before he spoke. “So you looked like you were out here hunting?”
“Just like I used to do with my dad.”
“It’s time for you to get lost.”
Her mouth turned dry as the prairie in August. “I’ll go.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re here. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want to take you out. Either he has an ounce of humanity somewhere in him, or he figures it’ll make a bigger mess than he wants. If you disappear, there’s going to be hell to pay. I can vanish with hardly a question.”
Her chest tightened. “So?”
“So we’re going to move you upslope a ways. Not a whole lot. Then you’re going to hunker down wearing your orange, and you’re going to pretend you’re lost. You wander a bit around an area, then just settle and get out your survival stuff, like you figure you’ll stay put until morning. You can do that, right?”
“Of course.”
“If he sees you at all, and we don’t get you too close to the kill box, he won’t care. What he wants is to lure me into a trap. Well, I’m going to quit being so damn covert. I’m going to act like I’m looking for you. Because you didn’t come back.”
“Wouldn’t you bring the sheriff out here?”
“How many S and Rs do you run at night out here?”
“S and R?”
“Search and rescue.”
She thought that over and got his point. “None, unless it’s a little kid. It’s too dangerous. They always start at dawn.”
“Good. So that’s the scenario. You’re lost, nobody will get out here before morning. Except me. Clearly, I’m going to look for you tonight in case you need real help. I’m not going to call out loudly for you, because he suspects I know he’s here. But I’ll make a show of tracking you. In theory, he’ll find a way to guide me toward his kill box, or take me at some other point.”
“I don’t like the sound of this.”
“This was always the sound of this. I should have realized it earlier.”
“Why?” But she didn’t argue. There wasn’t time, and it would make too much noise.
“Anyway, I’m going to pretend to have more than ordinary trouble trying to track you in the dark. I’ll keep well away from you. His interest should be on me alone.” His hand gripped her shoulder. “I’m going to use you, Allison.”
She swallowed hard. “I trust you.”
“Just so we’re clear. You put yourself here, and now that you’re here I’m going to take advantage of it. It’s what I do.”
This time she got it, with core-deep understanding. “What if...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish.
“If you see anyone but me, use that damn shotgun. You brought it for a reason, didn’t you?”
That chilled her most of all.
* * *
Jerrod was furious, but he cleared his mind as quickly as he could. While he thought the danger to her was minimal, probably nonexistent, it remained she had changed everything and put a new problem on his plate.
Along with fury, worry for Allison reached new heights. Whatever happened now, he had to keep her safe. He didn’t care if he died in the attempt, but her safety came first. She had certainly planted herself in the midst of a dangerous situation.
However, he could use it to his advantage if he was careful. If he weren’t silently stalking the woods, but clearly looking for someone, that might cause the creep to lower his guard a bit. That always helped. He’d make himself look like easier prey, maybe bring this thing to a head sooner.
And he’d make sure to draw the guy away from Allison. In fact, it might well work. He’d been off active duty for half a year now. He just needed to look rusty. Lull the guy and drag him away. He had a pretty good idea of where he was supposed to be led. He’d seen the nearly invisible markers the guy had left, markers that should be visible only to him. If he messed up some of those markers he’d send exactly the signal he wanted: that he wasn’t fine-tuned and on high alert.
“This can work,” he whispered to Allison. “Let’s go.”
* * *
This can work. Allison tried to take some comfort from that as she settled in among protective boulders. Jerrod had slipped away into the night ten minutes ago. She wandered, as he had told her, then made a show out of cussing and pulling out her survival gear. Surrounded by three big boulders that provided a windbreak from the stiffening breeze, she covered herself in her survival blanket, hoping it would prevent her from being visible to infrared, assuming the hunter was using it. Finally she pulled it up until it covered everything except her eyes. Her gloved hands rested atop it, cradling her shotgun.
Use it? As much as the words had chilled her, she had to accept that she had brought it with her for exactly that purpose. Not to pretend to be a hunter, but for protection if needed, whether for herself or Jerrod.
She wasn’t used to thinking in these terms. They seemed alien, from another world. But facing the fact that she had been an idiot because she was worried about Jerrod had changed more than one thing inside her. She had come out here prepared to do what she could, what might be needed. What she hadn’t wanted to face was that she might actually have to do it.
Plenty of time over the past few days, and now as minutes dragged by, to look at herself and wonder who she was and if she’d been living in some kind of bubble of denial. Her reaction to seeing Jerrod armed that first time. Her own self-doubts, her blossoming sexuality and then those cruel words. She winced every time she remembered them. So much she hadn’t thought herself capable of.
Gripping the shotgun, she now had a new dimension to face. Who was the real Allison? Apparently not the subdued teacher who had been trying to skim over life’s surface since her breakup with Lance and her parents’ deaths. No, she was a woman who had inserted herself into a life-and-death situation without proper thought. A woman who had insisted on coming out here even when she had thought it possible that she might be the target of some crazy poisoner.
Apparently she had a steel core she had forgotten about. And equally apparent that she wasn’t as smart as she had thought. Smart would have kept her home.
But her heart had dragged her out here. So many things she had put on hold since Lance had welled up, demanding their due. You couldn’t skim through life indefinitely. Sooner or later you had to commit to something.
Well, she had committed. She guessed she could debate her folly for years, but now she sat here, and she was going to do as told.
Unless something happened. Deep inside her grew a core certainty that she would act if necessary. What that action might be, she couldn’t imagine; she just knew that if the moment came, she would do what was necessary.
For herself. But mostly for Jerrod.
* * *
Jerrod slipped quietly back downslope. This time as he resumed his climb, he trampled some of the signs that had been meant to guide him to his quarry. Set there by the hunter, knowing Jerrod had the training to spot them and would follow them.
This time he acted like that was the last thought on his mind. He scuffed through a few, and used a high-intensity penlight to scan the woods around. A man on a search for a woman, not a covert operative on a mission.
A couple of times he called Allison’s name, though not too loudly.
He didn’t want his enemy to wonder why Allison didn’t answer.
In short, he made the most ham-footed, ham-handed hike through the woods of his entire adult life. He wandered away from the trail that had been set for him, adding to the guy’s confusion about what was going on here. And each time he wandered, he wandered farther from Allison.
He crunched sticks. He kicked rocks. Not overdoing it, but looking like he felt he had no need to be secretive. He paused again, calling Allison’s name.
Then he felt it. The hunter had found him. A grim satisfaction came over him. Who was the hunter and who was the prey? He guessed they would soon find out. One thing for sure, he wasn’t walking into the kill box. The guy was going to have to figure out how to deal with this.
He didn’t expect to be shot. A gunshot on the night air would be too audible. Allison’s presence on this mountain had brought that benefit. If the guy left her alone so he wouldn’t leave too big a mess behind him, then Allison would report she had heard gunfire.
So it was going to be up close and personal. Silent and deadly.
He continued another few paces, then paused. He shone his light around as if looking for something, but he was straining his ears to hear the slightest sound. A man could be nearly silent if well trained, but few achieved total silence. Something would give away the man’s location sooner or later.
Then he heard it. If he hadn’t been waiting for it, the sound would have been lost in the sighing of the breeze in the treetops.
Game on, he thought.
* * *
Allison wished the survival blanket made less noise. Every time she stirred, it rustled. Finally she cast it aside and waited. She had heard Jerrod calling in the distance, and the calls seemed to be moving farther away from her. He was doing what he had promised, drawing this threat away.
But at what risk to himself?
This, she thought, was every bit as bad as sitting at home worrying, helpless and wondering if he would come back. So he was out there alone in the darkness, and he seemed to think this guy had training like his own. An even matchup?
Thoughts of Jerrod’s back began to plague her, the pain she had seen whisper across his face a couple of times. It couldn’t possibly be an even matchup.
But she had promised to stay here. She’d been castigating herself for her own stupidity in getting in the way, of involving herself and making things more difficult for Jerrod.
Was she going to be a fool again?
No, of course not. She had learned her lesson.
At least until she heard voices in the distance. The two had met.
She pulled off the hat and vest again and stood, releasing the safety on her shotgun.
After this, he’d probably never speak to her again, she thought as she started to mimic the way Jerrod moved and began to cross the slope as quietly as she could. But she’d never forgive herself if she might have helped him. Or saved him.
The guy who was after Jerrod wouldn’t be expecting her. And maybe that was the best help she could offer.
* * *
Jerrod turned toward the sound. “Let’s have it out here,” he said.
A shadow emerged from the trees. Something about it rang the bell of familiarity.
“Drop your gun and I’ll drop mine,” came the answer. “Mano a mano, Major Marquette.”
Good, Jerrod thought. So the guy didn’t want Allison to hear a gunshot. Finally he’d gotten the shape of this right. He dropped his rifle. The other guy followed suit.
“Do I know you?”
“Not really. But you knew my brother. Dave Sorenson.”
Understanding crashed through Jerrod. His team member, the one who had died a few weeks ago. Now it all made sense. He was being held responsible for a command decision that had cost one man his life. Yes, he took responsibility, just as he took responsibility for every decision, for every life under his command.
But taking responsibility wasn’t the same thing as having done something wrong. “I’m sorry about your brother. He was a good man.”
“Better than you.”
How the hell was he supposed to answer that? Jerrod wondered as he watched the guy slowly move closer. Given what he wanted, he’d pull a knife soon. Jerrod had unzipped his jacket when he’d started this pretend search, and his own knife was in easy reach.
“We don’t have to do this,” Jerrod said. “We can talk about it, every detail of it. You’re special ops, aren’t you? You know the risks we take. You know that things go bad sometimes.”
“But you’re here and he’s not. You didn’t even come to his funeral.”
“I didn’t hear about it until two weeks later. Sorry, but you only get one chance to go to a funeral. If I’d known, I’d have been there. I’d have liked to tell everyone what a good soldier your brother was. The best.”
“Exactly. The best. And you got him killed.”
This conversation was going nowhere fast. Sorenson had his mind made up. He wanted someone to pay for his brother’s death, and Jerrod was it.
“Well, then, let’s do this.”
“The sad part is,” Sorenson said, “I heard about your back. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby.”
He was in for a shock, Jerrod thought. “So take it,” he said. “I’m not all that thrilled about surviving.”
That stopped Sorenson between one step and the next. “Why not?”
“You think I don’t care? Of course I care. I care about your brother and everyone else who’s been wounded or killed on my watch. It’s like carrying a ball and chain of guilt and grief. So just do it.”
* * *
Allison heard that last bit as she drew close. The men were so focused on one another they apparently hadn’t heard her inexpert attempts to be quiet. She squatted down to be sure she had a load in the chamber, then straightened again.
A ball and chain of grief? God, she hadn’t even begun to consider the burden Jerrod must carry in his heart.
Easing closer, she heard a grunt. She guessed the battle was on, and this wouldn’t be a good time to hold back. She hurried as fast as she dared over the rough ground, trying not to fall with a ready weapon in her hands.
At last she reached the point where she could see the shadows of two men locked in struggle. Just enough light poured through the trees that she caught the flash of a knife. One knife? Who? Jerrod? The other guy?
Why hadn’t he pulled his knife? Did he have a death wish?
But they were so close together, slinging punches, that she didn’t know what she could do.
Then they broke apart a little and she saw the knife raise. Now she knew who was who, and the other guy was preparing to stab Jerrod.
But Jerrod’s arm shot up and caught the one holding the raised knife. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Jerrod grunted. “Damn it, hasn’t your family lost enough?”
“My family wants payback.” The arm holding the knife swung to the side, breaking Jerrod’s grip, but only briefly. Once again, his arm shot out like a striking snake and caught the guy.
Then she saw something that nearly froze her heart in her mouth. The other guy used his free hand to pull out another knife. In a second he’d stab Jerrod under the ribs.
But just then Jerrod, who seemed to have sensed or seen the threat, whirled away beyond reach. Now he faced two knives and he was moving in again.
Allison couldn’t stand another minute, another second. She pointed her shotgun well above them and pulled the trigger. The deafening blast froze everyone in place.
“I’ll shoot you,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t quiver as much as her insides did.
* * *
It was a moment of distraction, just what Jerrod needed. He leaped into hyperdrive, calling on reserves of speed he hadn’
t needed in a long time. Sorenson, in that moment of shock, lost his edge.
A punch to the gut. A roundhouse kick to the knees and Sorenson fell to the ground. “Shoot him if he moves,” Jerrod said to Allison. His back had seized, but he couldn’t afford that right now. He pushed down his awareness of the pain.
“He’s in my sights,” she said coolly. God, what a magnificent woman.
Limping now, he went to grab his own rifle. Soon he was aiming it at Sorenson. “I don’t want to kill you, son, but I can’t let you go, either. We’re not going to play this game again.”
Sorenson swore at him but didn’t move.
“Allison, approach him from his head and kick the knives away. If he twitches he’s going to have a fist-size hole in his chest.”
She did as asked, moving cautiously, keeping her own shotgun on the guy. She reached out carefully with her foot, kicking each knife well away.
“Now get his rifle. It’s over there. Do you know how to pull out a firing pin?”
“I can try.”
“It doesn’t matter. Bring it to me. Then, for the love of heaven, please call for help.”
* * *
It took an hour for the sheriff and his deputies to find them. By then, Jerrod was propped against a tree trunk, knees slightly bent to ease his back. Sorenson, with two guns on him, had the sense not to move.
Once the sheriff had Sorenson thoroughly cuffed and under control, Gage came over to them.
“You can tell me all about it in the morning,” he said, looking from one to the other. “This is a story I’ve got to hear. Especially what the hell Allison is doing here. But tomorrow’s soon enough. Get home and get warm.”
Jerrod slid down until he sat on the ground with his knees up. He had turned over Sorenson’s rifle, and now held only his own AR-15.
Allison, still waiting for her heart and stomach to settle, squatted beside him. “Can you make it?”
“In a minute. It’s easing up.”
He reached for her hand and tugged her down beside him. “Thank you. You turned out to be a great help.”
She began to warm inside at last. The fears started easing, and she didn’t care who saw her rest her head on his shoulder. “I was a fool, but I’m glad I was a fool.”