Ally didn’t look away from the computer screen in front of her as she picked up the turkey sandwich from the plate and took a bite.
It was amazing what a full belly could do for a person’s concentration.
Of course, a little stress relief hadn’t hurt either.
She’d been back in the saddle for an hour now and her mind still felt clear and her eyes fresh. And, even better, she was finally beginning to feel like she was making some progress.
Mason had given her a starting place, and it turned out that was all she needed. After that, all she had to do was obey the first rule—follow the money.
And, oh the places it had led her.
It wasn’t just the matching amounts in the earnings projections and the failed appropriations bills. There were other strange coincidences. Large deposits from foreign sources. Secret offshore accounts that appeared to be tied to Fuller and Allied Dynamics. Deposits that could be traced back to known terror organizations.
Slowly the picture was coming together.
She hadn’t figured out what connection any of this had to the files from the Department of Defense yet. But she would. It might take her a little more time but she would get there. She just had to dig a little deeper. Work a little harder.
Ally took one more bite of the sandwich before putting it on the plate. She leaned in closer to the screen.
She had hoped that the quiet environment of the barn would have made it easier to concentrate, but the truth was, she wasn’t used to working in such dead silence.
She was used to a busy newsroom, or a crowded cafe. Even in her little apartment she could hear the rush of the city—the speeding cars or the neighbors’ conversations.
Out here in the middle of the country, the silence was profound.
Even Carter was being quiet. He had been sitting on the couch lost in thought for the past hour. Occasionally, he’d pull out his phone and look at something, but that was it.
And turning on the television was dead out. There was no way she could take the stress of seeing any news coverage about her abduction. Ally just knew the first shot she saw of one of her sisters, or, God forbid, her mother crying in front of news cameras, she was going to lose it.
The only way she was going to get through the stress and get any work done was by letting denial open up its jaws and swallow her whole. So, she’d just have to suffer through the silence.
Ally took a deep breath before letting her eyes refocus on the tiny words on the screen. Slowly, she let the air rush out between her lips.
Snap.
Ally’s chin jerked up. She looked straight ahead at the door where the sound had come from. She couldn’t find the will to draw in another breath.
Which was silly. It was probably nothing. An animal walking by, a dog or a cat. A branch falling to the ground. There were a hundred non-threatening reasons for a snapping sound outside the front door.
None of which she could make herself believe.
Ally risked a glance behind her to where Carter was sitting on the couch and found that he was sitting at attention, his eyes focused on the door.
So, she wasn’t the only one. She wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.
Carter’s hand slowly slid to the butt of the gun at his side as he stood up. He didn’t look over at Ally as he made a silent gesture for her to get on the floor.
Okay, definitely not.
Ally pulled the zip drive from the computer and tucked it into her pocket before crouching down into the hollow beneath the desk. She’d just tucked her legs up against her body when she heard a soft click at the back door.
She couldn’t blame that sound on an animal. Someone was testing the lock. And she was willing to bet it wasn’t the Garcia family back from the store.
Carter glanced toward the back door, but kept moving toward the main entrance. He held his gun out in front of him, arms stiff, back straight. He moved silently into position, his back flat against the wall next to the door.
He glanced to his side and pulled a heavy-looking hardback from the bookcase and tossed it on the floor. It hit the floor with a heavy thump that resounded through the house.
In an instant, both doors of the barn swung open violently, crashing against the walls, and two men dressed in head to toe black barged in, holding the most frightening rifles Ally had ever seen.
Carter was ready for the attack. He didn’t flinch. His aim stayed steady on the man that was now in the kitchen. A fraction of a second later, the intruder’s gaze locked on Carter and he swept the barrel of his gun in his direction.
Ally instinctively clenched her eyes shut and tucked herself into the tightest ball she could manage—as if that could save her—and waited helplessly for the barrage of gunfire that would cut Carter down.
But the onslaught didn’t come.
There was a single loud blast. Even though Ally was expecting the deafening roar, she still started hard enough that her head banged against the top of her hidey-hole.
Ally’s eyes popped open and she let out a sigh of relief to see that Carter was still standing. The man in the kitchen, on the other hand, was not. His body was laid out, still and limp on the cold tile.
But the danger wasn’t over yet. There was still the other man at the front door, and they’d used up the element of surprise.
The second intruder took another step inside the barn and swiveled toward Carter. The barrel of the rifle smacked against Carter’s hand, knocking his gun to the floor.
Carter grabbed the bottom of the man’s gun and twisted hard, pointing the muzzle up toward the ceiling. The man pulled the trigger and half a dozen shots emptied into the ceiling.
Ally watched as Carter muscled the gun around, twisting the strap around the man’s shoulder and tying up his hands. But the intruder didn’t lose his grip. And he wasn’t showing any sign of giving up.
The attacker kicked his leg out. His boot landed hard on the soft underside of Carter’s knee.
Ally winced as Carter faltered, landing hard on his shins, but he didn’t lose his hold on the gun. He jerked down hard on his end, causing the butt to fly up and hit the intruder under the chin. Ally winced as a spray of blood flew from his mouth.
The man in black didn’t stumble though. If anything, he fought back harder, using all his strength to try to push Carter all the way down.
Ally knew she had to do something. But what? She had no idea how to fight a physical battle. A battle of wills, sure thing. But a gunfight? She feared she’d do more harm than good.
But she still had to try.
Staying as close to the ground as she could manage, Ally shuffled into the kitchen on her hands and knees.
She scrambled toward the man on the floor, reaching out with her hand to grab the gun that still laid in his limp hand. Even though there was no rise and fall in his chest, she couldn’t help the fear that he was going to miraculously find breath, sit up, and empty the damn clip right into her as soon as she grabbed his rifle.
But somehow she found the courage to reach for it anyway. She wrapped her fingers around the end and pulled, but the gun didn’t give. She tried again, harder this time, but still, nothing.
Ally looked up at the man’s slack face. The strap was still slung around his neck.
Well, damn. Even in death these guys were proving to be a massive pain in her ass.
Pushing down a shudder, Ally slid right up against the dead man, close enough that she could cradle his weapon in her hand.
The weight of the man’s head hung below her arm, making it hard for her to position the gun. Not that it mattered. The attacker was far too close to Carter for Ally to try to hit him. She’d only end up killing them both.
Hell, with a weapon this large and unwieldy she’d be lucky if she didn’t end up losing control and shooting herself.
Still, she had to do something.
Ally lifted the barrel to the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Shots went off, fast and hard, shaking Ally’s whole bod
y with their force.
But fortunately, the jarring noise did the trick.
The attacker lifted his head toward Ally, taking his attention off Carter for just a second. It was all the opportunity Carter needed.
Carter kicked up hard, landing a blow to the man’s stomach, and was on his feet in the blink of an eye. He went at the intruder hard, rushing the man and burying his shoulder deep into the pit of the man’s stomach and gaining leverage on the rifle that still hung between them.
Ally flinched as the attacker landed several hard punches into Carter’s side fighting for control of the weapon. But Carter stood firm. His teeth were bared as he strained to push the barrel of the gun until it pointed straight down. He continued to take one hell of a beating as his hand slid up until his finger curled around the trigger.
Three loud shots echoed off the walls.
The man attacking Carter crumpled to the floor, his foot spewing blood. Ally reflexively turned her head away at the sight. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to turn back and peek out of one eye.
Carter stood above the man, pinning his gun hand with his foot. The man writhed underneath Carter’s shoe, snarling up at him, but Carter just stared coldly at the man.
“How did you know we were here?” Carter shouted.
Ally held her breath as the man bared his teeth and grunted. “Go to hell.”
Carter crouched down, twisting his foot on the man’s wrist as he descended. “I’m not the one who needs be concerned with heaven and hell right now.”
Ally had never heard Carter sound so vicious. Never. She swallowed past the lump that formed in her throat. Sure, the man on the floor had come here with one goal—to kill her. Maybe Carter too, but definitely her. Still, Ally had to fight back the surge of compassion for the man.
Carter obviously wasn’t having the same trouble. He twisted his heel on the man’s wrist and Ally heard a sickening crack. The man screamed out, his wail filling the empty space in the barn.
“Carter,” Ally said, her small voice breaking.
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were focused intently on the man beneath him. The one he’d just been engaged in a life or death struggle with. And the truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure it was over yet.
“Tell me,” Carter said, his voice vibrating with intensity. He leaned down closer to the man’s face. She recognized the savage look in Carter’s eyes from where she stood several feet away…and it scared the hell out of her.
“P-phone,” the man finally said, his voice faint. The pain had to be getting to him. God knew, it was getting to Ally, and she was just watching it. “We hacked the satellite then traced the outgoing call from your office.”
Carter’s jaw tightened as Ally’s dropped. The cops in the Macmillan offices. One of them had to be working for Fuller and managed to get to Mason’s phone. He had said they had been everywhere.
Apparently that wasn’t an exaggeration.
Fuller’s men had traced them here, which meant that the Garcias were also in danger. They had to get out of here and warn them, before anyone else came looking.
“Carter,” Ally tried again, louder this time.
His focus didn’t waver. It was like he had tuned her out. Like he wasn’t listening at all.
“Your bitch is calling,” the man spat up at him.
Ally flinched.
“Say that again.” Carter’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a tight, grim smile. Carter’s body was practically vibrating with anger. “I dare you.”
But Ally had the terrible feeling that was the man’s plan all along.
His free hand started sliding down the far side of his body toward his hip. Toward a black holster that blended in with the rest of his uniform.
“Carter,” Ally screamed, truly panicked this time. “He’s going for a gun.”
It turned out that Carter was listening to her after all. The man flicked back the strap that held the handgun in place at his side, but Carter was too fast. He stood up and pulled back his free foot. A swift kick landed against the side of the man’s neck.
Ally clenched her eyes shut as a sharp snap echoed through the house. This time she really didn’t want to open her eyes. Staring into the face of one dead body per lifetime was enough for her.
A second later, Carter’s hands were on her shoulders. She risked peeking out of one eye, and found that he was standing to her side with a wary look on his face.
“What?” she asked, suddenly afraid that they weren’t done yet. That he’d heard more of them out there. That they were surrounded. It seemed there was no end to the dangers that her imagination could come up with.
“Do you want to put the gun down?”
Ally looked down at the massive rifle still cradled in her hands. The gun. Of course. She’d forgotten that she even had it.
“Yeah, of course.” As carefully as she could, Ally slipped it back down onto the floor.
Carter lifted her up off the floor and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
A second later, he leaned back far enough to look her in the eye. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Not physically, but I’m pretty sure my therapist is going to get an earful the next time I see her.” Her voice was shaking so hard, she was amazed she was able to form words. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” he said, but Ally could tell he was lying. He was standing with his arm tight against his right side, the one that had taken punch after brutal punch. He had to be bruised to hell. Or worse. There was a real chance that he’d cracked a rib.
She reached out to soothe him, but before she could, he took her arm and started for the door. “We need to get you out of here.”
Ally dug in her heels. “We need to find the Garcias’. They can’t come back here. What if more men come?”
The tick in Carter’s jaw worked for a second, but he nodded in agreement. “Do you know where they went?”
“I think so.” Ally nodded. “The grocery store is just down the road a few miles, on the edge of town.”
He pulled the phone out of his pocket as they went down the steps and tossed it over his shoulder back inside the barn.
There went their last connection to the outside world.
Ally tried pulling toward the SUV they’d driven there, but Carter kept her pressed tight against him, walking the other way.
“But the car—”
“Is a liability. Every cop in a hundred miles will be looking for it. We need to acquire another one.”
Ally looked up at his face. For the first time, she thought that she spied the signs of fatigue around his eyes. And why the hell not?
They were out in the middle of nowhere. He’d just taken a hell of a beating. They had no phone. No car. No place to go.
If Ally thought they’d been in trouble before, that was nothing in comparison to where they found themselves now.
“You say that like it’s not a big deal,” she said.
“It never has been before,” he said, glancing down at her as they walked to the front of the Garcia’s house. He lifted his head toward a big black truck that was sitting in the driveway. It must have been the car that the assassins had driven out here.
Of course.
Ally tried the passenger door and found it open. She pulled herself up the step to the seat as Carter got into the driver’s side.
He bent over, fiddled with some wires under the dash and the engine roared to life.
Ally laughed out loud, though she could have just as easily wept. She leaned over and grasped Carter’s cheeks and kissed him flush on the lips.
They had a car. One problem down. Only a hundred more to go.
***
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