Fire and Ice: A Thriller (A Hawk Tate Novel Book 3)

by Dustin Stevens

  Over the noise of the door I heard him mutter something about “those sonsabitches” before the force of the wind took over, blocking all sound, slamming into me broadside.

  Just 10 minutes later I was outside of town, Jasper Maxx’s truck in my wake, the tracks of the coach stretched out like a map before me in the snow.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  In my other life, the one where I carried a weapon solely for use against the occasional rogue animal and wore a smile for my customers, I had spent more than my fair share of time on snowmobiles. Between the months of November and May it was really the best way to get around the park, trading some of the warmth and comfort of a snow coach for an extreme upgrade in speed and accessibility.

  I didn’t own any snowmobiles for my guide business, the liability insurance exorbitant to cover guests, many from warm climates who had never even seen, let alone been on one. I did have a standing agreement, though, with a rental company in West Yellowstone for the rare occasion I did take a group in during the winter months.

  It had been a while since I’d been on a Switchback, the model a few years old, the kind a private citizen like Mike Ferris would buy secondhand once an outfitter decided to upgrade.

  Even at that, the machine was more than capable for what I needed, the gas gauge indicating the tank was full, the treaded belt running along the undercarriage, propelling me along.

  Some of the newer models were reported to be capable of speeds topping 90 miles an hour. The model I sat on was doing 20, a decision springing from my unfamiliarity with the terrain, and the visibility still essentially non-existent.

  Even with a pair of orange-tinted goggles protecting much of my face and eyes, I could see nothing more than 30 or 40 feet ahead. The wind continued to whip the top layer of snow, a steady spray rising in the wake of the machine.

  Hunkered low behind the small windshield, ice crystals still lashed at my cheeks, a burning sensation settling over the skin as I worked the throttle with my right hand, my gaze aimed at the twin tracks in front of me.

  Adrenaline and my newly acquired clothes kept my body from succumbing to numbness, my heart pounding, my breathing short and shallow. Beneath the weight of the coat I could feel moisture forming in the small of my back, the weight of the M-16 thumping against my spine with each small knoll we crested.

  I kept the speed up a full five minutes after passing Maxx’s truck before throttling down as I extinguished the front lamp on the machine, having to raise my body up over the shield and stare straight at the ground to continue picking out the partially covered tracks of the snow coach.

  At such a low speed I wasn’t concerned about anybody hearing the whine of engine, trusting that the storm would carry it away, or at the least mask it enough that nobody would think twice about it.

  The light wouldn’t be ignored though, making myself an easy target.

  Acutely aware of how much time had passed, of how much time Yvonne Endicott may not have left, I nudged the gas just a little, praying that I was closer to the end of the trail than the beginning.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The blanket was gone, the wind pulling it away from Yvonne’s head, turning it into a sail as it hurtled off into the night, disappearing as if it had never been there at all. Her fingers were too cold, too numb, to even try holding onto it. Leaning the only angle that didn’t seem to set her ribs to blazing, she kept her gaze on the ground, every step looking exactly like the previous.

  The pain in her head swelled as she moved on, the only sound her own breathing echoing through her ears.

  She had to keep going, one step at a time, past the burn in her quads, through the agony waiting to erupt in her ribs.

  Over and over again she reminded herself of what she had once heard called the 40% Rule, a maxim adopted by the Navy SEALS, the idea being that every person’s physical will outpaced their mental fortitude by 40 percent.

  Her body could make it, would make it, she just couldn’t let her mind tell her otherwise.

  So intense was her focus on just moving that she didn’t notice the light, didn’t even pick up on the whine of the engine. She didn’t realize she was no longer alone until the snowmobile pulled up alongside her.

  With one pulse of gas he sped by, sending a plume of snow over her, coming to a stop in her path. There he sat staring back at her, his entire body mummified in black, no way of knowing who he was.

  Given that he had come from behind her, seemed intent on keeping her from going any further, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that he wasn’t a friendly.

  The only question was how hostile he was.

  The last of her strength waning, Yvonne felt more tears leak from the corners of her eyes. A single sob wracked her entire body, setting her ribs afire, the pain rippling through her, pulling the air from her lungs.

  Again, a single burst of the engine could be heard, Yvonne remaining where she was, staring straight down at the damnable snow that was everywhere.

  If the man had seen her reaction, had any inkling of the injury to her ribs, of the pain she was in, he gave it no mind as he clamped both hands around her stomach, lifting her from the snow.

  Unable to fight back as the pain ripped through her, Yvonne offered no resistance as he carried her two steps and deposited her onto the front of the snowmobile seat. Unceremoniously, he forced her tired, aching, frozen body into position and took a seat behind her, his arms reaching past her to the handlebars and kicking the machine to life.

  Gulping in oxygen, feeling the wind rushing into her face, Yvonne’s body rocked back against the man, her system beginning to shut down, unable to react to anything that was going on around her.

  Ahead in the distance a single light showed itself, much larger than a headlamp from a truck or snowmobile, strong enough to be seen at a distance. For a moment Yvonne thought it was the edge of town, the hospital offering refuge, calling her to safety.

  Just as fast that thought faded away, replaced by the realization that it was the barn, that all her efforts meant nothing, erased in a matter of minutes.

  Leaning forward, her forehead just inches from the handlebars, she drew in a deep breath.

  She could not let them get back to that barn. In it was certain death, if not for what she’d done to the bearded man then surely for what she was unable to do for the other.

  Her body was broken, her spirit just seconds behind it. Never again would she go home to Atlanta, never get married or have children. Those things were now beyond her control.

  But this, this she could do.

  Raising her gaze above the handlebars, Yvonne watched as the light grew steadily larger, the snowmobile veering to the right, descending from the road toward the structure. Drawing her hands up slowly before her, she flexed her fingers twice, willing them to have just enough life left in them for what must be done.

  One more breath.

  Summoning the last remnants of everything she had left, Yvonne smashed her palms into the handlebars, using the sudden movement to jerk them hard to the right.

  In her ear she heard the man let out a grunt of surprise, heard the front end of the snowmobile moan as it pulled to the side, a spray of snow washing over them.

  The last thing she remembered was the sensation of flight, of hanging suspended in the air, before everything cut to black.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  It was by pure blind luck that I even saw the light, nothing more than a quick flash from left to right across the road ahead, like the pass of a lighthouse beacon in the distance. Just as fast it was gone, not to be repeated.

  Had my attention not been raised for an instant, looking ahead to see if the trail veered off as the woods grew thicker on either side of the road, I would have missed it.

  Icy snow whipped past me as I raised my head above the shield. Cold air blasted me in the face, forced its way down my throat, as I leaned harder on the gas, pushing forward.

  There was no way the light was a
n illusion, a mirage ahead in the distance. Not in this storm, and not in the darkness of night.

  It was too bright to be a flashlight.

  Most likely a snowmobile, just like the one I now sat on.

  Feeling my adrenaline spike, a tense feeling arose in my stomach, the familiar signs of impending danger. Just as it had untold times before, my body reacted the way I knew it would, calling on instincts that until recently had been dormant for more than half a decade.

  A person can have all the training in the world, have been through a million simulations, but until they had actually gone through battle, had experienced the psychosomatic response to actual violence, they had no idea what to expect.

  Just the same, once they had been through it, they would never forget.

  A warm feeling spread through my limbs, blocking the cold, blotting out the pain of the snow whipping me in the face, the aching of my nose from the crash. It spurred me on, my right wrist twisting slightly, the throttle on the snowmobile moving it along at a low rumble.

  On the ground in front of me new tracks appeared, slicing over the previous trail of the snow coach, clean lines cleaved through the recent snowfall. It was definitely a snowmobile heading in the same direction I was, the destination becoming clear, a second light emerging in the distance.

  Once more I ratcheted up the gas, knowing the noise of my machine couldn’t be heard over that of the one I was following.

  The light ahead grew steadily larger, clearly a doorway into some sort of structure, the outline of the building coming into view.

  Giving the handlebars a quarter turn, I nosed the snowmobile off the road, continuing to follow the new tracks. The back end of my machine bucked as I hit the uneven ground, launching my backside up off the seat, my hands the only point of contact before dropping back onto the seat again, sending a jolt up through my hips and spine.

  The pain barely registered through my heightened senses, the adrenaline serving to put my nerve endings on high alert as ahead of me, for the first time, I caught a glimpse of what had caused the light I saw before.

  Silhouetted against the bright light of the building, it was clear that I was chasing another snowmobile. Based on the size and shape there appeared to be two riders, though there was no way for me to determine who they might be.

  Twisting the throttle back again, the engine whined, giving me a burst of speed to close the gap between us.

  I had to reach them, whoever they were, before they got to the door. Once inside they would have support, untold numbers lying in wait, no doubt heavily armed.

  Even worse, they would lower the door, making my job that much more difficult.

  Leaning forward, trying to exert my will on my machine, I kept heading straight at the rear of the snowmobile, watching, praying for it not to make that door.

  At no point did I expect what happened next, the machine ahead bucking wildly to the side, the headlamp streaking across the side of barn. Twisted at an angle for just an instant, I could see both riders seated on the machine before centrifugal force took over.

  Traveling at such a high speed, the machine tilted, lifting it from the ground, sending it hurtling, launching both riders into the air.

  My muscles seized tight as I saw them both fully for the first time, the figure on the back end clearly a man, tall and thick, the one that had been riding up front smaller with a slight build.

  I pegged the big guy as Sam Cuddyer, or someone from his crew, and the other as Yvonne Endicott.

  Seeing the bottoms of hospital scrubs and the wild hair on her head gave me no doubt, my eyes widening as I watched.

  End over end their machine toppled, stopping with a thunderous crash of steel hitting steel as it smacked broadside into the side of the barn.

  The light grew brighter as I continued, closing the gap between us, knowing I had a decision to make.

  There was no way anybody inside had not heard that collision, would not immediately come running.

  I had to do everything I could to sway the odds in my favor before they did.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  I backed the throttle down just enough to ensure I could throw myself clear without sustaining too much injury, the speed dropping by more than half as I aimed the nose of the snowmobile at the man struggling to his feet before me. With legs spread wide, arms swinging, fighting for purchase, it was obvious he was still dazed from the fall. Standing with his back to me, he gave no indication of even knowing I was there, never once turning as I goosed the gas one final time, aiming at him before flinging my body off to the right.

  Landing on a shoulder, the snow did little to brace the jarring impact, the M-16 causing the vertebrae in my spine to pop as I rolled once, digging my hands and feet into the ground, forcing myself to a stop flat on my stomach.

  Lying face down on the ground, I could see what I presumed to be Yvonne sprawled in the snow nearby, making no movement of any kind. Beyond her was the crumpled pile of the man I had rammed with the snowmobile, his head and shoulders buried in the snow, his legs twisted at an unnatural angle beside him.

  Past that I could see the remains of the Switchback, the front end having collided with the corner of the doorway, the fiberglass body impaled on the metal support beam, steam rising from the engine.

  I could feel fresh warmth dripping over my lips, taste the blood in my mouth as I shoved myself to my knees, clawing for the nylon strap across my chest. Hooking a thumb beneath it, I pulled the M-16 over my head and rushed forward, using a foot to kick the man over flat on his back.

  His entire face was covered with goggles, not even his eyes visible, giving no indication if he was alive or dead.

  Gripping the M-16 around the barrel with both hands, I smashed the butt end of it down into the man’s throat before adding a second and a third blow, feeling his larynx disintegrate.

  The odds of his having survived the crash were minimal at best, but there was no way I would now have to worry about him rising just long enough, like a villain from a bad movie, to shoot me in the back.

  Leaving the man where he lay, I switched the gun into my left hand and shuffled two quick steps to the side. Voices drifted out of the barn as I grabbed Yvonne by the ankle with my right hand, jerking her backward, getting us both back as far away from the opening as possible.

  Whoever was coming to inspect the noise would see the crumpled remains of their compatriot. My only hope was it would be enough to draw them into the open long enough to get a shot off.

  Yvonne Endicott was taller than I expected, though by no means a large woman. My hand easily passed around her ankle, nothing more than bone and tendon as I pulled. Still surging on adrenaline, her weight was almost non-existent as I slid her over the snowpack, the ground littered with remnants of the first snowmobile, black specks of fiberglass dotting the area.

  The two of us made it several yards before the first shadow appeared through the doorway, spilling out onto the ground. A moment later a second appeared, this one moving in a sideways gait, the unmistakable posture of a shooter’s stance.

  I had to get us, or at least Yvonne, to cover.

  Pausing for just a moment, I swung my gaze to look for anything to serve as a blockade.

  With the exception of a couple narrow pine trees, there was decidedly little around, most of the area having been cleared to make room for the structure.

  Bit by bit the shadows came closer, growing bigger as they approached, bound to pop out at any time, weapons ready.

  As poor as it was, I had only one option.

  Dropping the M-16 into the snow, I reached down and grabbed Yvonne by the hips and hefted her from the ground, tossing her toward the base of the building, the remains of the first snowmobile the best cover I could manage.

  Bending over, I snapped up the M-16 and flung myself down alongside her, our shoulders pressed against each other, her unconscious features aimed toward the sky, mine focused on the doorway.

  The first man throu
gh was small, awkward, his sole focus on his colleague. He shot out of the doorway, fighting his way through the snow, before coming to a stop beside him.

  Keeping the sight along the top barrel aimed for his center mass, I flipped off the safety, switching to a three shot burst, waiting, hoping for the other to show himself.

  The second man clearly had more experience than the first, remaining hidden behind the doorway. After a moment I saw an arm and the top of his head extend outward followed by a double muzzle flash, two orange blossoms of light.

  The rounds were nothing more than exploratory, both hitting the trees out away from the building.

  Right now, he had no way of knowing where we were, but that would not last for long. It was only a matter of time before he or his colleague looked over at the rubble of the crash, saw it for the only cover around, knowing we couldn’t have gotten much further pushing through such thick snow.

  At that point they would begin leveling every bit of firepower they had over here, maybe even tossing another of those grenades that had gotten Ferris.

  On my side, I had the momentary advantage of a clear sightline, and the extreme concern for an unconscious Yvonne. Already, I could feel the snow starting to draw heat from my body, despite the winter gear Mike loaned me.

  If the frigid ground was having that effect on me, I could only imagine what it was doing to her.

  It was clear that any hope I might have had of extracting Yvonne and retreating without a fight was gone. I had killed one man and destroyed my mode of transportation, meaning that at one point or another we had to get inside.

  Doing that meant going through every last person.

  There was no pause, no delay at all as I stared at the base of the barn, firing one three round burst, seeing a trio of sparks ignite from the metal. I paused, adjusting my aim just a fraction of an inch, before firing a second cluster, the result the same as the first.