Читать книгу Lawman On The Hunt - Cindi Myers - Страница 11

Chapter Five

Travis fought his way through a tangle of vines and was reaching for a stout stick that might serve as a shovel when a strangled squeak made him freeze. It might have been the distress cry of a mouse or a bird, it was so faint, but instinct told him the noise came from Leah, and she was in trouble.

Carrying the stick like a club, he moved as swiftly and silently as he could back toward the campfire. His first view of the area was of Braeswood holding Leah, but this wasn’t a loving embrace. Rage momentarily blinded him at the sight of the knife at her throat.

“I...I don’t know,” she stammered, in answer to something Braeswood said. “He was angry with me. He left.”

“Liar!” Blood ran in a thin line down the pale column of her neck. Travis had to grab hold of a tree trunk to keep from lunging forward. Setting the stick carefully aside, he drew the Glock from the holster. All he needed was one clear shot.

“No sign of him, boss.” One of the other men—probably Buck—joined Braeswood and Leah beside the smoldering fire.

“Where’s Eddie?” Braeswood asked.

Buck made a face. “He’ll be along in a minute. He’s out of shape.”

Duane unsnapped a radio from his belt. “Bobcat Two, do you read me?”

“I’m here, boss.”

“Any sign of those Feds?”

“Negative.”

“You got our location on GPS?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Meet us at the pickup point in two hours with the rest of the team. We should be finished here by then.”

“I’ll be there.”

Braeswood repocketed the radio. “By the time the Feds get back to the house, there won’t be anything left for them to find. And we’ll have taken care of Leah’s friend.”

“Maybe he really did leave her,” Buck said.

“He was here.” Braeswood nodded to the two cans of water nestled in the coals. “He probably went to get more wood or something.”

“He’s wounded,” Leah said. “Why waste your time with him? He’s just another dumb Fed. If you leave now, you’ll be out of the country before anyone even knows.”

“Shut up.” Braeswood shook her. “Don’t think I won’t kill you right now if you don’t stop annoying me.”

“Maybe I’d rather die than spend any more time with you.”

The crack of his palm striking her face echoed through the trees. Her head snapped back and she cried out again. Travis braced against a tree trunk and sighted along the barrel of the Glock, but Braeswood was still too close to her. Travis needed a plan for dealing with the second thug, too. And the third one who might arrive soon.

Leah moaned and slumped in Braeswood’s arms, body limp, eyes closed. The sudden weight of her made him stagger back. He nudged her shoulder with the butt of his gun. “Wake up. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

A noise to their left, like a large animal stumbling through the underbrush, drew their attention. “That’s probably Eddie,” Buck said.

It probably was, Travis thought. But none of them could see him yet, so he saw his chance. “Luke!” He shouted the name of his fellow team member. “Over here!”

The others froze, long enough for Travis to get off a good shot at Buck, who staggered, then dropped to his knees and toppled over, blood spreading from the bullet hole in his chest. Travis turned his attention to Braeswood, who was struggling with Leah. She had come out of her stupor, which Travis suspected had been faked, and had taken advantage of the distraction to pull away from Braeswood. He still had hold of her arm, but he had dropped the knife, and she kicked and scratched at him, making it impossible for him to draw his gun.

“Braeswood, let her go.” Travis stepped from the edge of the woods, his Glock leveled at the terrorist. Braeswood released Leah and went for his own weapon. She fled into the trees to their right.

Travis’s first shot missed, as Braeswood dived behind a tree. He returned fire, bullets biting into the trees around Travis, forcing him to take cover also. A few seconds later, a second round of shots narrowly missed him. Eddie had arrived and was firing from behind a fallen pine.

Travis flattened himself in a dip in the ground and debated his next move. He had maybe half a dozen bullets left for the Glock, and a few for the revolver. Not enough to outlast these two. And Leah was out there somewhere, running. If he made a mistake and ended up getting killed, she would be alone, with Braeswood and his men after her.

Stealthily, he began crawling backward through the underbrush. When he judged he was out of sight of Braeswood and Eddie, he stood and ran, choosing a course he hoped would intersect the one Leah had taken.

He heard her long before he saw her, crashing through the woods like an animal fleeing in panic. He increased his own pace and waited until he spotted the bright red of her sweater before he called out. “Leah! It’s me, Travis. Wait up!”

She darted behind a tree, then peered out cautiously at him. Tears streaked her face, and her lip was swollen where Braeswood had hit her. When Travis reached her, he pulled her close, crushing her to him. Seeing Braeswood strike her had destroyed his determination to keep some physical distance between them. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, her face pressed against his shoulder. The subtle floral scent of her perfume tickled his senses, stirring emotions he wasn’t ready to examine too closely. “I’m okay,” she said, out of breath. “Scared. A little shaken. But okay. What about you?”

The concern in her eyes when she lifted her head to look at him made him tighten his hold on her. “I’m okay.” Though the memory of her with that knife to her throat would haunt him for a long time to come.

She jerked in his arms as a crack, like a stick snapping underfoot, sounded in the distance. “They’re coming after us,” she said, panic widening her eyes. “I told you, he won’t give up.”

“We’ve got to keep moving.” He took her hand and led the way, moving as fast as they could in the dense forest, following animal trails and the paths of old fires, uncertain of the direction they were traveling. Was it true that people who were lost in the woods tended to walk in circles? Did that mean they could end up accidentally stumbling into Braeswood and the others?

Leah tripped on a tree root and went flying, landing on her hands and knees in the dirt. “I can’t keep doing this,” she said as Travis helped her up. “I’m too exhausted.”

Before long, he would be too worn out to go much farther, as well. His side where he had been shot and his head where he had fallen earlier both throbbed, and he had noticed Leah wincing every time she moved her shoulder. He had been betting they could outlast Braeswood and his men, but maybe that had been foolish thinking. The hatred or greed or whatever force that motivated the terrorist was a powerful driver. “We’ll have to find a place to hide,” he said.

She nodded and closed her eyes, struggling to catch her breath.

He scanned the ground around them and spotted a dead pine tree, uprooted in some past storm. The roots stretched into the air above the hole where they had once been planted. “Over here,” he said, and led her to the hole. It was large enough to accommodate two people. He helped Leah down into the depression, then dragged a tangle of branches and vines over it. After scattering leaves to hide their footsteps, he slipped into the hole behind her and tugged the last branch into place.

“Do you really think they won’t see us?” she asked.

“We’ll see them first.” He grasped the Glock and peered out of their makeshift shelter. If Braeswood or one of his men did try to attack them here, Travis would have the first chance to get off a good shot.

Minutes passed, their breathing growing more regular and even. Then the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the forest floor grew louder. Leah clutched at him, but said nothing. Seconds later, Eddie Roland appeared, followed closely by Braeswood. Both men were armed—Braeswood with his pistol, while Eddie had traded his handgun for a semiautomatic rifle. The two men moved deliberately, studying the ground around them.

“I know they came this way,” Braeswood said. “I saw their tracks.”

“It’s hard to follow anything in this heavy underbrush,” Roland said. “We need a dog. They can track anything.”

“We don’t have a dog, idiot,” Braeswood said. “They can’t have gotten far. The only place Leah ever walked was on a treadmill.”

At the mention of her name, she pressed her face more firmly against Travis’s chest. Her silken hair tickled his chin, the sensation at once foreign and achingly familiar. In the silence while the two men above them searched, he became aware of her heartbeat, strong and rapid against his own.

After a while, he couldn’t hear their two pursuers anymore. “I think they’ve moved on,” he whispered.

“We should wait in case they come back,” she said.

“We will.” He settled more comfortably into the bottom of the hole, though he kept his eyes trained on the opening above them, and his ears attuned for any sound of approach. “Try to get some rest,” he said softly. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I’ll watch with you,” she said, but within moments he felt the tension drain from her body and her breathing grow more even. The physical and emotional stress of the last few hours had taken their toll.

Determined to stay awake, he turned his mind to analyzing the day’s events. He had arrived at the log home where Braeswood and his team were hiding with a clear idea of his mission. His job was to capture and arrest a group of terrorists. One of those terrorists happened to be his ex-fiancée, but that didn’t make her less guilty of the horrible crimes the group was responsible for.

Now, after a few hours with Leah, he was less sure of the latter. Seeing how afraid she was of Braeswood, and how cruelly he treated her, Travis was beginning to doubt she had gone with the man willingly. He had believed she left him because she had fallen in love with someone else—what else could “changed my mind” have meant? Later, when he had learned she was living with Braeswood, he was shocked and angered that the woman he had loved and trusted had left him for a murderer.

But he had sensed no love between Leah and the terrorist leader when he saw them together now, only fear. Braeswood had clearly been intent on killing her once he used her to lure in Travis.

So why had she left Travis for a man who only seemed to want to harm her? Before this ordeal was over, he intended to know the answer to that question.

An hour or more had passed when she stirred awake. She sat up, blinking. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“It made sense for you to rest while you had the chance.” He checked the view through the narrow opening. Long shadows stretched across the ground, telling him the sun would be setting soon. “Are you ready to head out again?” he asked.

“I guess so. I’m so thirsty.” She rubbed her stomach. “And hungry, too.”

“We’re going to do something about that,” he said.

“What?”

“We have to go back to the area where we had the fire, near the creek.”

Fear tightened her features. “If Duane retraces his path, he’ll find us.”

“We have to take that chance.” He stood and pushed aside branches to widen the opening to their shelter, then pulled her to her feet.

“Why?” she asked.

“They didn’t have Buck or his pack with them when they moved past, so they must have left him there. He had at least one water bottle in that pack, and probably food and other supplies. And he probably has a phone we can use to call for help.”

Her expression grew more animated at this news. “I hadn’t thought of that. Then yes, we should definitely go back.” She started to haul herself out of the hole, but he pulled her back.

“Let me go first.”

“Why? So they can shoot you in the head first? At least you can cover me. Don’t count on me for the same.”

“I can pull you up to the ground,” he said.

“You can boost me up from here.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

She smiled. “Always.”

Something broke inside him at that remark, some last restraint against his emotions. Not thinking, he pulled her close and looked into her eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She brushed her hand along his cheek, then leaned in to bring her lips to his, gently at first, then hungrily, as if he were all the food and drink she craved.

He responded in kind, all the anxiety and anger and despair of their months apart channeled into that kiss. He still didn’t know what to think about her betrayal, and he wasn’t ready to trust her, but for this moment, stranded with only each other to depend on, he gave in to the need to simply be close to her. To be with her, emotionally, in a way he had never allowed himself to be with any other person.

She pulled away first and regarded him with an expression he read as equal parts wariness and hope. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” she asked.

“No.” He touched the corner of her mouth, which was still swollen from Braeswood’s blow. “But I’m not blaming you the way I once did. Consider it a first step in a long journey.”

She pulled away. “Speaking of long journeys, we’d better get going.”

He checked the opening, and seeing nothing but still woodland, he boosted her up, then climbed out himself. “Do you know the way back to the body?” she asked.

“I think so,” he said.

In the end, they were able to follow Braeswood’s and Roland’s tracks through the woods. The two men hadn’t been concerned about being followed, and their heavy boots and careless steps made a trail of scuffed leaves, broken branches and even boot prints that led all the way to the little clearing, where the remains of the campfire still smoldered, and one of the cans of water sat, undisturbed, Buck’s body slumped a few yards away.

Leah hurried to retrieve the can of water. She drank half and handed the rest to Travis. “You take it,” he said, returning the can. “I’ll get the bottle on Buck’s pack.”

Already, the body was drawing flies. Travis ignored them and focused on unbuckling the pack from the dead man’s back. He set it aside, then riffled through Buck’s pockets. He found a wallet with three different driver’s licenses, identifying him variously as Bradley Simons, Brent Sampson and Bartholomew Spietzer. He had a couple of credit cards and twenty-three dollars in cash. Travis replaced the wallet and riffled through his other pockets, coming up with a pack of breath mints, some change, a Ruger .45-caliber pistol and an extra clip of ammo, and finally, in his front jeans pocket, a cell phone.

“He has a phone,” he said.

Leah knelt a short distance away. “Can you call someone to come and get us?”

He tapped the phone to waken it, relieved to discover Buck hadn’t bothered locking it, then punched in the direct number to his supervisor, Special Agent in Charge Ted Blessing. The screen almost immediately went black. He frowned and checked the display again. “We don’t have a signal,” he said.

Leah sat back on her heels. “I should have thought of that,” she said. “Wilderness areas don’t have cell towers. Plus all these trees...” She tilted her head back to regard the pines and firs that towered overhead.

“Maybe we can climb to a better signal.” He pulled the water bottle from the pack and drank deeply, then offered some to her.

She shook her head. “I’m okay. But I’d like to know if there’s any food in there.”

“We should move to a safer location before we check it out,” he said. He stood and shouldered the pack. “Whatever is in here, it’s heavy enough.” Anything they didn’t absolutely need, he would discard at the first opportunity. They had to move quickly, and that meant not taking anything that would weigh them down.

He led the way back into deeper woods—not taking the path they had followed to get here, but moving, he hoped, closer to the road. Leah followed, saying nothing. After a while, he noticed she still carried the two empty soda cans. “We might need them,” she said when she saw him looking at them.

“Good idea.” She had come up with a lot of good ideas so far during this ordeal. Another civilian might have been a burden, but she was turning out to be a capable partner. As much as he had loved her before, he wasn’t sure he had ever respected her the way he did now.