Lost in Shadows

by CJ Lyons

  CHAPTER 23

  By the time they finished, Lucky had pretty much demolished Vinnie’s backpack. He’d cut strips from the nylon to use as bindings, dismantled the frame to use the metal struts as supports, uncoiled the metal coulter pins and rings to use as makeshift detonators. The only thing he hadn’t found a use for were the nylon zippers.

  Vinnie had been a quick study, watching him as he stripped the roadside flares, greedy for their combustible ingredients, and they worked side by side without needing words.

  Soon he had an impressive array of improvised explosive devices—all unproven, just as likely to blow him sky high instead of The Preacher.

  “You know,” she started in a level, logical tone which he was quickly learning meant she’d be impossible to reason with. “What you need is a distraction, something to draw the guards away so you have time to plant these.”

  “You don’t think blowing the propane tank at your cabin is distraction enough?”

  She continued working, her gaze focused on her task, but he saw the tightness between her shoulders that came with his words. Lucky sighed. This plan was the best he had. Vinnie might lose her home, but she would be safe.

  Keeping Vinnie safe had become as important to Lucky as stopping The Preacher.

  “They’ll know it’s a trick, they won’t leave the radio long enough for you to use it,” she continued. “You need a reason for them to come out into the open. Bait.” She looked up at him, and Lucky saw her plan.

  “No way, don’t even go there, Vinnie. You’re staying here, you’re the back-up quarterback, remember? I can’t jeopardize you.”

  “It’s not going to work, Cavanaugh. You’ll either get killed or captured, then I’ll have to try something on my own. Probably get killed myself. There’s too much at risk and time is running out.”

  He shook his head, more to clear his brain than anything else. Where did she come up with these ideas?

  She was right, they would have a better chance at succeeding with two of them—but that also made it their only chance. If they failed, The Preacher would win and thousands of people would die.

  All or none. Were the odds good enough to justify risking her life? He looked at her, eyes sparking in the firelight, countenance calm, sure—as if death didn’t scare her.

  What if they lived and The Preacher captured them? Lucky shivered. The thought was much more frightening than contemplating death. How could he even consider the possibility of Vinnie being subjected to that kind of pain?

  He couldn’t. “You’re staying here.”

  She ignored him, finished securing the devices, began to gather the remnants of their gear.

  “I thought the computer would make a good red herring,” she said as if he had never spoken. “I can pretend to be surrendering with it, draw them out front while you go in through the woodshed. Just remember to be careful not to knock over the skis—I left them leaning on the wall beside the door to the shed.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Lucky rolled his eyes. They’d been over the layout of her place in excruciating detail. The house was only two rooms, by now he had the position of every dust bunny memorized. Then he realized that she had him starting to talk as if she was going. “But it doesn’t matter, you’re not coming.”

  She bent over to pull her ski pants on, looked over her shoulder at him. “How are you going to stop me? There’s no way you can climb up the path out of here without my help, and I can move faster in the snow than you can. So, you going to back me up or sit there and pout ‘cause we’re not doing it your way?”

  Lucky blew out his breath. What choice did he have? He just hoped she didn’t get them both killed. Or worse.

  CHAPTER 24

  Vinnie had to admit to a secret thrill as she lay beside Lucky, camouflaged by low hanging hemlocks, watching her cabin through binoculars. It was the same feeling that had stimulated her yesterday when she’d been racing down the mountainside, trying to outwit and outmaneuver the men in the SUV who were trying to kill them.

  She enjoyed a lot of sports considered dangerous: whitewater kayaking, rock climbing, and trekking alone in the mountains, but nothing had ever given her this kind of adrenalin rush.

  Nothing except the man who lay beside her. She forced herself to block out the memories of their night of passion—difficult since that feeling of excitement eclipsed the sensations surging through her now by a power of ten.

  Learn to make do with the memories, she told herself. Because as soon as they completed Lucky’s mission, he would be gone, out of her life forever.

  “You okay?” he whispered from beside her, his fingers brushing snow from her cheek.

  “Fine.” She handed him the binoculars. “Why?”

  “You just had this funny look on your face is all. Like you were sad all the sudden.”

  Michael’s name hovered in the air between them. Vinnie couldn’t bring herself to tell him that her sadness was the result of anticipating Lucky’s leaving, not the loss of her husband.

  Best that he never knew how she was starting to feel about him. She had to protect herself from falling further under his spell.

  She shifted her weight so that there was now a few inches of space between them. Room to breathe. “I saw three sets of footprints in the snow,” she whispered, “but only two guards outside. Where’s the third?”

  “Guarding the helicopter, I would guess. They wouldn’t want to take a chance on our reaching its radio. It must be behind the cabin.”

  He turned to her, his face held a lopsided grin that she couldn’t explain. “Don’t suppose you can fly a helicopter?” he asked. “Might make things a lot easier.”

  She knew he was trying to lighten the tension and smiled in return. “Wilderness paramedic and BS in Wildlife Biology are about all I bring to the table. Sorry.”

  “You bring a hell of a lot more than that, Vinnie. Don’t sell yourself short.” His tone grew serious.

  Couldn’t he take a joke? She wasn’t underestimating her skills—she wouldn’t risk his life if she thought she’d be a liability to him. Before she could say anything, he shifted, his body on full alert.

  “That’s him,” he said, handing her the binoculars. “At the front window. That’s The Preacher.”

  A nondescript brown-haired man appeared at the window of her front room. In his hands he held a coffee cup as he spoke to someone out of sight. Vinnie was disappointed. He didn’t seem worth all the fuss. He looked well, ordinary.

  “That’s him? I was expecting someone—I don’t know. Larger than life.”

  “That’s him.” Lucky’s voice had turned leaden. “Don’t underestimate him. In fact, I think we should change the plan. I’ll take the computer, set the trap.”

  Vinnie turned to look at him. His face had grown pale, the muscle at the corner of his jaw spasming. His eyes glowed with an intensity unlike any she had seen in him before: pure hatred.

  “I can’t shoot as well as you,” she reminded him. She reached a hand to place it over his, surprised to find him trembling. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t be late with your fireworks, okay?”

  His look softened, and he turned his hand over in hers, gripped it. “I won’t.”

  To Vinnie’s surprise he rolled onto his side and tugged his rain poncho up, began to fiddle with his rabbit’s foot. He had given up on the sling, would need both hands to set and arm his small cache of explosives. A brief grimace of pain cross his face as he raised his left arm. Finally he had the small, well worn, piece of fur detached from his jacket.

  He rolled back over and held it out for her inspection as if it was a prize. The scraggly rabbit’s foot hung from a lanyard constructed of several lengths of colorful electrical wire. He placed it in her hand, closed her fingers over it.

  “I want you to take this. For luck,” he told her.

  “You don’t believe in luck,” she reminded him. “You’re the scientist, remember?”

  “Okay, then think of it as a reminde
r of me. After this is all over and done with we can argue about the mysteries of the universe, deal?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t forget the Jacuzzi, room service, tea and crumpets you promised.”

  “Vinnie, I’m serious. Promise me you’ll be careful. As soon as you see an opening, you hightail it out of there, head back to the cave.”

  For the first time since they woke from their quick naps, his voice was filled with emotion, as if he cared more for her safety than stopping The Preacher.

  Before Vinnie could say anything to either reassure him or lighten the mood, Lucky bent his head down and kissed her with a passion that resonated through her soul.

  A kiss that seared into her heart like a red hot poker. She gasped, tried to fight her urge to return his passion, and lost. Her fingers reached for his face, the rabbit fur still snugged in her hand tickling them both.

  She couldn’t do this, she knew it could only end one way: with Vinnie broken, scrambling to put the pieces of her heart and soul back together. She wasn’t certain she could survive that again.

  But his touch was intoxicating, driving out all fear and with it, all rational thought of protecting herself.

  Finally, they parted. Vinnie was surprised that nothing around them seemed to have changed. The wind rustled the branches shielding them from sight, the heat of their passion hadn’t even melted the snow they lay on. And the men intent on killing them still prowled the perimeter of the cabin not fifty yards away.

  Vinnie lay on her back, trying to catch her breath. The snow clouds were thinning, brief glimpses of sun streamed down between them. The wind had slowed and with it the brunt of the storm seemed to have passed.

  Observing these small details helped her to clear her head, to focus on the task at hand. To think about anything but the man beside her and the danger he posed to her heart.

  It wasn’t Lucky’s fault, she reminded herself. She was the one who started this last night. She was the weak one, so desperate for human contact that she had lowered her defenses, invited him inside her solitary confinement. But it had to stop. Now.

  Vinnie avoided his gaze as she shoved the rabbit’s foot into her shirt pocket and reached for the computer.

  “See you soon,” she said, watching the men in black continue their circuit. She climbed to her feet and moved into the trees, hugging the shadows as she approached her home.

  Lucky watched Vinnie disappear into the woods, fighting his urge to shout at her to stop, to come back. He had a very bad feeling about this—had all along, but this was their best chance to stop The Preacher.

  He had to put the lives of thousands ahead of his or hers. Wasn’t that why he was here, doing this job? To serve and protect.

  Even if it meant sending the woman he loved into danger.

  He cursed at his mental use of the “L” word. This wasn’t the time or place.

  It hadn’t been the right time or place for Chase and KC last month either, dodging bullets as they fought to keep The Preacher from blowing up Chase’s hometown. But they somehow made it work. Shouldn’t that give Lucky a reason, however small, to hope?

  Hope. The “H” word was even worse than the “L” word. After last month, hope seemed an empty concept to Lucky—but since yesterday, he had found it creeping more and more into his mind, as if the concept of a future filled with meaning and happiness could become a reality.

  A reality that would never happen unless he got a move on. He rolled to his knees, began to guerrilla crawl into position.

  Their revised plan was a simple one, but still Lucky reviewed it once more as he waited for Vinnie’s signal. She would throw a flare into the clearing in the front of her cabin, followed by the computer.

  When the guards approached the computer they would be in the open, and Lucky would shoot them. As he dealt with the guards, and hopefully The Preacher as well, Vinnie would skirt through the trees to the rear of the cabin where she would set off one of his bombs in the helicopter, destroying any chance The Preacher had of escape. Then she was to return to the safety of the cavern.

  What happened next depended on The Preacher. If Lucky was able to keep them in sight, he would keep firing. If The Preacher and his men took cover inside the house, then Lucky would blow the propane tank and burn the house down, shooting anyone who tried to escape.

  Lucky felt his teeth grind together as he envisioned being trapped inside the small cabin, overcome with flames—not a pleasant end for anyone, but he was in no position to offer The Preacher or his men any mercy. Not like The Preacher had offered Lucky any while he was busy torturing him last month.

  He shook his head, cleared his thoughts and sighted in on the area in front of the porch steps. But all he could think of was the few seconds that Vinnie would be exposed, vulnerable.

  He remembered how easily she moved even in the fresh snow that came up past Lucky’s knees, tried to convince himself that she would be fine.

  Everyone would be fine once Lucky killed The Preacher, stopped him for good.

  CHAPTER 25

  KC strapped in and waited for the National Guard pilot to lift them airborne. The helicopter was used for search and rescue as well as military exercises and was equipped with Forward Looking Infrared Radar. The FLIR would seek out any heat sources on the ground, enabling them to see how many targets they were dealing with.

  Chase adjusted his Kevlar, settling into the body armor as if it was only yesterday he had led troops into battle instead of a year ago. A shadow crossed his face, and she knew he was thinking of the men he’d lost in Afghanistan. She reached a hand to take his, squeezed it. He looked away for a moment, then returned to his weapons check and she felt his mood lighten.

  “You miss this, don’t you?” she asked.

  While she was with the FBI, her main goal during operations was to prepare so well that the need for violence was minimal. KC had never drawn her gun in the line of fire or killed anyone until last month when she went up against The Preacher’s men in order to save Chase. He had returned the favor by saving her life and together, with Lucky’s help, they had saved Chase’s hometown.

  “The killing?” he answered. “No. But there’s more to Black side ops than killing.”

  She gave a small smile at his use of the Marine terminology. Force Recon’s Green side ops were dangerous but considered routine for the elite group. Black side operations were the ones they trained for, lived for. “Black as in action, engaging an enemy directly, right?”

  He finished stowing his spare clips for his Heckler-Koch MP-5, tried to suppress his smile and failed. “Something like that.”

  She lifted a hand to caress his cheek. “You, my dear husband-to-be, are an adrenalin junkie.”

  His smile widened into a grin as he took her hand and kissed her palm. He didn’t let go once he lowered it to rest between them. “Takes one to know one, my dear wife-to-be.”

  KC’s chuckle echoed over their headsets. They sat in silence, the vibrations of the blades slicing through the clouds and the powerful engine lulling Chase into sleep. KC looked over at his peaceful countenance and swallowed hard against the knot of anxiety that filled her throat, the faces of the men she had killed last month racing through her mind.

  Together they could get through anything, she reminded herself, the words repeating in time with the thrump of the blades overhead.

  Vinnie used the binoculars to follow Lucky’s progress through the trees and onto the limestone outcropping that would put him in position to fire on The Preacher. The guards near the cabin didn’t act as if they noticed anything wrong. They seemed fatigued and frustrated, their weapons sagging in their hands.

  They took turns, one plowing through the snow while the other watched from the relative comfort of the cabin porch.

  Probably getting cold, she thought, looking at their water-logged clothes. They looked like more city boys, Eddie Bauer parkas over cargo pants and duck boots—okay for a day tramping through the woods, but
hardly attire designed to weather a nor’easter.

  Their guns were scary enough, though. They both had large semi-automatics holstered at their hips and carried what looked like small machine guns.

  She lowered the binoculars. Took a deep breath. Show time.

  Vinnie leaned the computer against the base of the tree at the edge of the clearing, in perfect line of fire for Lucky. She moved as far away as she could and still trust her accuracy, lit and threw the roadside flare so that it landed near the computer. It sputtered, then burned with a brilliance easily spotted through the scant cover.

  She turned and fled into the woods, sending a quick prayer for Lucky’s safety and success as she moved onto the next phase of the operation. A few moments later, the men shouted as they waded through the snow to investigate the flare. She didn’t look back, kept on moving.

  Lucky had his Glock sighted and ready to go. He had removed the bullets from his back up piece, a Baby Glock, and now had a grand total of eleven bullets loaded into the larger semi-automatic.

  The flare lit up the shadows beneath the trees directly across from his position. He glanced at the two guards, willing them to notice as well.

  Finally, one of them sent up a shout, scouring the woods with his weapon at the ready as if he expected a battalion of Marines to converge on their position. The other ran inside the cabin, emerged with both The Preacher and the guy Lucky had stolen the computer from in the first place. Come on, he urged them.

  One of the guards actually stepped out toward the clearing, but The Preacher quickly called him back. If this was going to work, Lucky needed them grouped together as far from shelter as possible. He guessed The Preacher realized that as well. Man was no idiot.

  Computer Guy returned inside and reappeared carrying some binoculars. He remained on the safety of the porch as he scanned the area around the flare.