Special Forces: The Spy (Mission Medusa Book 2)

by Cindy Dees

  Well, not quite over. She and Goldeneyes still had to get away from here safely and get to help. But she was confident in her field training. Once they hit the woods, she would be in her native element. They would be fine.

  She hoped.

  Praying this escape was exactly what it looked like it was, she stepped outside and into the clean, cold, fresh night air.

  Goldeneyes eased the door shut and then stepped around her, gesturing for her to follow him. She was impressed that he moved away from the porch at a snail’s pace, placing each step with care not to disturb the leaves or make a footprint in any soft dirt. He, too, rolled from heel to toe with every step. Now, where had he learned that? Only Special Forces types routinely practiced walking like that.

  She walked the same way, of course, additionally making sure to place her feet in the exact same spots he was stepping with his. No sense making it any easier to trail the two of them. Her footprints would be unique and noticeable to a decent tracker. Hence her disguising her steps within his.

  They reached the shadow of a giant oak tree, and he signaled for her to stop. She did, and he squatted to examine their trail back to the cabin, checking to make sure they’d left no tracks. While his back was turned and his concentration elsewhere, she could totally take off into the woods and flee from him.

  But she tamped down the urge. The thinking soldier’s response to this situation was to play it out a little longer. Use him to get farther from the cabin. Far enough away that he couldn’t easily rouse the others and put them all on the hunt for her.

  He stood up, nodded the all clear and headed into the woods. She had no idea what direction they were heading. Under the heavy canopy of trees, it was impossible to see any stars overhead and get her bearings. She would just have to trust him for now.

  They moved with cautious stealth for ten minutes or so, gliding away from the cabin in complete silence disturbed only by the occasional swish of a leaf against their clothing. His silhouette was big and black in front of her, blending into the night as if he was a natural part of it. The guy totally had some sort of military training in his background to be moving so smoothly over the rough terrain.

  Over the next half hour or so, her eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, and she began to pick out more features of the forest they passed through.

  It was mostly big old oak trees. Which was good. The tannin from their roots had a tendency to retard the growth of brush under them, and the going was relatively easy. It wasn’t exactly a stroll through a park, since dead branches and holes lurked under the carpet of leaves, invisible until stepped upon.

  She estimated they’d been walking the better part of an hour when Goldeneyes finally stopped in the lee of a vertical outcropping of layered sandstone. He sat down on a boulder and eased the rucksack off his shoulders. He held out a plastic bottle of water to her, which she took and downed gratefully.

  “Since we were never officially introduced... Hello, Piper. I’m an undercover operative for the CIA. And I’m truly, deeply sorry for everything that has happened to you.”

  Chapter 8

  Zane held his breath. This was the moment of truth. Would she believe him—and trust him? Or would she continue to fight against him and make this a battle between them? Escaping and evading the men back at the cabin while fighting with her was going to be a bitch if she chose not to believe him.

  He dared not tell her much about himself in case they didn’t successfully get away from Mahmoud and gang. Although, if the two of them were caught, he suspected there would be only torture and pain before they were both killed. Mahmoud probably wouldn’t bother to interrogate either one of them extensively. Still, Zane had to be cautious and keep his wits about him.

  “Do you have some sort of government ID on you to prove who you are?” she challenged.

  “Are you kidding?” he blurted. “Have you seen how dangerous those men are back at the cabin? No way would I carry something that damning on me. I only carry identification that goes along with my deep cover legend.”

  “What should I call you?” she asked dryly. Dryly enough that she obviously realized any name he gave her would be an alias.

  He shrugged. “I am conditioned to respond to Amir. Or your nickname for me—what was it? Goldeneyes?—will do for now.”

  “Why did you kidnap me in the first place? And why did you tell them I’m Persephone Black when you knew darned good and well that I’m not her?”

  He sighed, “Like I said. I really am sorry about that. Mahmoud told us Mrs. Black was the assistant principal of that elementary school—and our target—about one hour before we barged through the front doors of the school, guns blazing. They weren’t going to leave that place without Mrs. Black, and I was afraid that when they didn’t find her, they’d shoot the place up. If you’ll recall, one of the secretaries told me Mrs. Black was out sick that morning.”

  “So you told them I was her?”

  “You seemed like the best substitute out of the available women in the front office. You were also the only person there who even remotely looked like the surveillance photo we were shown of the real Mrs. Black.”

  “Who is this Persephone Black woman?” Piper asked curiously. “Why would a bunch of terrorists be interested in the assistant principal of an elementary school in south Louisiana?”

  He shrugged. “As far as I can tell, she’s the wife of someone important. Her only value to Mahmoud’s superiors appeared to be as leverage to get her husband to do something.”

  “What do you know about Mr. Black?” she pressed.

  “Nothing. As soon as we get back to civilization, though, I’ll damned well be looking into who he is and what’s so special about him.”

  “You seriously don’t have a cell phone to call for an extraction?”

  He blinked. Extraction was a distinctly military term. That West Point ring had obviously been the real deal. “Mahmoud doesn’t allow any electronics besides his, which are heavily encrypted. No phones, no tablets, no laptops. Nothing that can be tracked by the authorities.”

  She looked around at the trees. “How far are we from a phone or a human being with a phone? As soon as we reach one, I can call in considerable resources to come pull us out.”

  “So can I,” he replied dryly. “Who are you, anyway?”

  She frowned heavily enough that he was able to see the expression in the dim starlight filtering through the trees. She said cautiously, “As you saw from my college class ring, I went to West Point. I’m in the army.”

  “That reminds me,” he said. “I’ve been dying to know how you ended up in Houma, Louisiana, in an elementary school.”

  “Bad luck, I guess.”

  Hmm. An evasive answer. He responded, “Well, it was great luck for me.” Silence fell between them as they rested. He added, “How are your injuries? Do you need first aid? I have a small kit with antibiotic cream and some bandages. I can put a new butterfly on that cut over your eye—”

  She cut him off. “I’m fine. Shouldn’t we be moving on?”

  “You’re not too tired?” he asked.

  She snorted. “I can hike all night, all day tomorrow and all of tomorrow night before I start feeling tired. Just get me away from those men and to the nearest phone as fast as you can.”

  “I’m actually not heading for the nearest town. That’s where they’ll expect us to go.”

  “Are we headed in the opposite direction?” she asked sharply.

  “Actually, the nearest town is to the north. We’re headed more or less east.”

  She subsided beside him, muttering only, “All right, then.”

  He would take that as approval for his choice of direction. He stood up, shouldering the pack once more. “If you get cold, let me know and you can wrap one of the blankets around you.”

  That garnered another snort out of her.
“Once you pick up the pace to something decent, I’ll be plenty warm.”

  “Would you like to lead the way and set the pace?”

  He made the offer sarcastically, so was shocked when she nodded and said briskly, “Show me the last landmark you were headed toward, and I’ll take point for a while. Let me know if I’m going too fast for you.”

  Her going too fast for him? Right.

  Except when she did head out, she stunned him by setting a killer pace that had him huffing and puffing behind her to keep up. Cripes. He’d known she was in good shape, but he had no idea she was this fit. He would hate to see her pace when she wasn’t bruised and battered.

  She led the way toward a distant mountain peak for a solid hour before stopping again. She even had the gall to murmur, “Do you need a rest?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” he replied. “Where did you get so buff? Do you run marathons for fun or something like that?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Color me impressed,” he commented.

  “Do you want to take point for a while, or should I continue leading the way?” she asked matter-of-factly.

  “I’ll take over the lead.” He knew it to be the more tiring role, and they would both have to pace themselves physically and mentally to make their escape.

  “Who are those guys, anyway?” she asked as he passed her one of the last two bottles of water and downed the other himself.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “But you lived and worked with them.”

  “They were incredibly closemouthed. The intel briefings that led me to infiltrate their group indicated they might be a terrorist cell. Whether they’re state actors or freelancing, I couldn’t tell you. I know they speak Farsi as their primary language, which pegs them as likely Iranian in origin.”

  “And?” she asked expectantly.

  “And that’s roughly all I know about them. Mahmoud, the leader, is taking orders from someone. He’s the only one in the group who routinely uses a cell phone or the internet, and the encryption on both his cell phone and laptop is top-notch. Trust me. I’ve checked both.”

  “He and the two older guys—Yousef, and I never heard the other one’s name—”

  “Hassan.”

  “—and Hassan—struck me as military,” she offered.

  “Agreed. I actually think all of them have military training. Mahmoud, Yousef and Hassan also appear to have some sort of advanced training. Special Forces, maybe. And training in covert intelligence operations.”

  “Well, that’s just special,” she commented. “How much danger are we in of them finding us out here? Do they have infrared or heat-seeking gear for tracking us?”

  He considered her question. “I don’t know. Mahmoud kept tight control of a couple large duffel bags full of gear. It’s possible they have night-optical devices and other tracking paraphernalia.”

  “What I wouldn’t give for a nice pair of NODs right now,” Piper said wistfully.

  NODs, huh? That was definitely military jargon for night-optical devices. Special Forces types, in particular, made frequent use of them. But it wasn’t like he could up and ask her about where she’d learned the terminology. She was still refusing to tell him her full name, and he guessed he couldn’t blame her. Not after all she’d been through.

  And after all, he hadn’t told her his name, either.

  He had to assume that at least one of Mahmoud’s guys was a skilled tracker and would be able to follow them. He didn’t want to stress out Piper any more than necessary, but they really did need to keep moving. Quickly.

  After the water break, he stood up and moved out, taking the lead and setting fully as fast a pace as she had. Thankfully, she kept up without complaint.

  For now. At some point, fatigue would override her fear, and then he would have a hard decision to make. Did he push her to continue on, or let her rest and risk Mahmoud and company catching up with them?

  He would cross that bridge later. In the meantime, he kept an eye on the ground in front of him and frequently scanned the forest behind them for signs that they were being followed—movement, sudden silence from the night creatures, anything to indicate that Mahmoud’s men had found them.

  He and Piper were dead if that happened. Between the two of them, they had his Ka-Bar knife strapped to his ankle and a pocketknife. Mahmoud’s men had AK-47s. Their only hope was to outrun and evade the other men.

  Around daybreak, it started to rain.

  He’d managed to salvage a single large trash bag from the kitchen, and he slit its seams now to create a small makeshift tarp. They huddled together under it, doing their best to stay as dry as possible. But it was a losing battle.

  They were both cold and wet, and he was tired, his eyes gritty.

  Piper surprised him yet again by saying, “Take a fifteen-minute power nap. I’ll keep a lookout while you rest.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. “Only if you’ll do the same when I’m done,” he replied.

  “Deal.”

  He didn’t exactly feel better after the catnap, but he knew intellectually that it had helped a little.

  With daylight came ease of seeing their footing, and the rain made it silent going. But they also faced a whole new set of dangers. They had to be careful not to make themselves visible while topping ridges, and they were forced to stick to the heaviest tree cover they could find, which slowed them down somewhat. Not to mention it was nearly impossible not to leave muddy tracks. He could only pray the rain would erase the prints before Mahmoud’s tracker found them.

  Mahmoud and the others were surely awake by now and knew that he’d absconded with their hostage. He wasn’t absolutely sure they would actually come after him and Piper. But if they did, it would be with the intent to kill both of them. Urgency to reach civilization and call for help ripped through him.

  Cold and miserable, they pressed onward.

  About midmorning, Piper asked, “Where are we with food and water?”

  “I wasn’t able to carry out much of either,” he answered. “By my estimate, the nearest town in this direction is at least thirty miles from the cabin.”

  She responded, “In virgin forest, we can only expect to make, at most, something like five or six miles a day. So that means at least five days out here. Let’s round that up to a solid week for caution’s sake. I gather, then, that we’ll have to forage for food and water while we hike.”

  “That’s correct.”

  She nodded, seemingly not alarmed by that prospect.

  He asked curiously, “Why isn’t the idea of eating bugs and weeds freaking you out?”

  “I’ve done a fair bit of wilderness camping,” she replied evasively.

  “How’s that? Not many people can say that.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze giving away nothing. “I like the outdoors.”

  He frowned at her back. Man, she was being cagey with him. He got that he had no right to expect her trust after he’d put her in this situation to begin with. But it still stung. He’d blown a long-term operation for her, and he’d risked his own life to stick around to pull her out. But he wasn’t in any position to explain that to her.

  Hmm. Did she have secrets of her own that prevented her from being honest with him? If so, what could those be? He occupied himself for the next few hours turning over possibilities in his head. Was she AWOL from the military? Maybe she’d been discharged under less-than-honorable conditions.

  The good news with the rain was that it created plentiful rivulets of runoff water. They found a good one running fast and clear, and he passed Piper a plastic bottle to fill while he filled one of his own.

  He had managed to slip a bottle of water-purification tablets into his pocket in the grocery store yesterday without Yousef appearing to see him. He pulled that out now
and passed it to Piper. As an experiment, he intentionally didn’t say anything to her about how to use them.

  She casually broke the wax seal, popped one tablet in the water and gave it a good shake. She stuck the bottle in the makeshift sling she’d made of one of the blankets across her body.

  Huh. She definitely knew how to use the tablets. She knew to give them a little while to kill any bacteria in the water. He did the same, and they filled the two remaining water bottles and treated that water, as well. They commenced walking again.

  They entered a valley with relatively heavy underbrush and pushed through it carefully, trying not to snag clothing or break branches in such a way as to leave a trail. It was slow going and hard work.

  When he judged it to be midday—it was too cloudy to know for sure—he called a halt and offered Piper one of their precious protein bars.

  “Are you going to have one, too?” she asked.

  “I’ll be okay for now. I had a big supper last night,” he replied.

  “Don’t be a hero on me. You need to keep up your strength if you’re not going to become a liability to me out here.”

  He managed not to stare, but just barely. Him a liability to her? Was that just her army training showing, or did she seriously see herself as more capable out here than him? Fascinating. Who in the hell was she?

  The far side of the valley was very steep and rocky. It wasn’t exactly a sheer cliff, but wasn’t far from it.

  “How are you at free-climbing rocks?” she asked him as they stared left and right at the long stone wall in either direction.

  “I’ve done it before,” he answered. “And it looks like a time-consuming detour to go around this.”

  “Up it is, then,” she declared. “I’ll go first. I’ve done a lot of rock climbing.”

  Of course she had.

  She backed up and studied the face for several minutes, planning her route. Then she stepped up to the wall, reached for the first handholds and winced.

  “What hurts?” he asked instantly.