Читать книгу Defensive Action - Jenna Kernan - Страница 14

Chapter Four

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Ryan swiped at his eyes, but they failed to snap back into focus. In fact, the dark central tunnel in his field of vision was expanding,

“Where’s that camp?”

“A...a ways. It’s a hotel, lodge really.”

A lie, he thought. The hesitation was a tell. He’d have to speak to her about that. Also she wouldn’t meet his gaze, preferring to look at her now empty hands. The thermos lay in her lap, the bottom rim stained red. The handgun was likely in her pocket or purse. It seemed the thermos was her weapon of choice.

There were no hotels on this lake. He knew the terrain and his exact location. This Schroon Lake was connected to a larger one which bordered several small communities, but her GPS had said she was a few miles from her destination. The adventure camp was here, close by. But they couldn’t stay there and he needed to ditch this car, fast.

What could he tell her that would keep them both alive?

He was mulling over if he should tell her another lie or the truth. And if he told her the truth, how much did he need to reveal? She was going to live or die with him regardless of what he told her.

The important thing was that he do the best he could for her because she’d stopped for him. She’d saved him. And that made it hard to follow the directive to recover at all costs the flash drive containing the stolen intelligence on Siming’s Army. His supervisors would tell him to leave her behind. She was a liability and her death meant nothing compared to the deaths of thousands.

But it meant something to him. He knew what Hornet and Needle would do to her. They’d never believe she wasn’t involved. So they’d torture her and learn nothing. Collateral damage. The part of his heart that did not follow orders decided to bring her along. At least until he knew about Takashi. If Takashi had not succeeded in making the drop, Ryan needed to find him before their pursuers did.

“Hey!” she yelled.

He jerked his head up. Had he dozed off or passed out? Didn’t matter. His vision was blurry and shaking his head did no good.

“Hold the wheel,” he said.

The tension vibrated in her voice. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to pass out.”

* * *

HALEY’S ABDUCTOR PROCEEDED to do just that, slumping backward and against the open window.

She lunged for the wheel but his foot remained on the gas, the dead weight of his leg propelling them along too fast for this winding road.

Now what?

She didn’t know but the upcoming turn in the road told her that she needed his foot off the gas or they were going off the road.

Again.

Haley imagined the federal agents following on foot and finding them wrapped around a tree. She used her opposite hand to shove for all she was worth, pushing until his foot slid from the gas pedal.

They glided easily around the turn, which required two hands on the wheel. Then they coasted to a stop on the dark road.

The heater blew and the engine rumbled. Through the vacant place where the rear window had been and broken windshield came the sound of the wind in the pine trees.

Why wasn’t there anyone else on this blasted road?

She’d wanted to please her dad and so she’d done what he asked her, hoping she wouldn’t disappoint him, wishing she could find the courage to step back into the stream of life, but knowing that was where the danger lay. Didn’t this just prove her point?

Human wolves preyed on the weak and old, on drunk coeds. Police investigations revealed that her older sister spent as much time in bars as in the classroom. But her mother would not hear this. It went counter to her picture of her eldest daughter. In four days, Haley went from younger to only daughter. Of course she hadn’t known that for five months. Five long, terrible months of worry over the missing.

She glanced over at the unconscious man beside her, illuminated only by the dashboard light. Blood oozed from the abrasions on his chest and shoulders, glistening in the blue glow from the dash. His head slumped down. She’d only seen this kind of musculature in action-adventure movies, when the hero somehow managed to lose his shirt or remove it for the female audience’s sake. But this was real. He was real. She released her seat belt and placed a hand on his chest. His ribs rose and fell beneath her palm. His skin was too warm and damp with sweat.

Shock? The condition rose from her memory along with a list of symptoms and the emergency treatment for it.

Why she had ever thought premed was her life’s passion was beyond her. She didn’t even recognize that girl, the one who’d wanted the excitement of being a physician’s assistant in a busy NYC emergency room. Being called to identify her sister’s body had made it impossible to ever voluntarily visit a hospital again. Haley shuddered as sweat beaded cold on her forehead. No. Life-and-death situations were definitely not in her wheelhouse. At least not the death part.

Her heart beat painfully against her ribs and her throat burned.

“Oh, no you don’t, Haley. You are not going to cry.”

* * *

RYAN FELT THE pressure of someone’s touch on his chest, the contact light and tentative. His eyes snapped open and he clamped his hand around the woman’s wrist. She jumped and tugged in a vain effort to retrieve her captured appendage.

She could have shot him.

She could have left the car and made a run for it.

But she’d decided to check his condition instead. It wasn’t wise. But it was kind. How long since he’d seen this sort of compassion?

“Haley,” he whispered.

He released her. She rubbed her wrist with her opposite hand, not using either to hold the gun, which he knew she still had.

“What happened?”

“You fainted, I think.”

“Passed out,” he said and stretched backwards until his neck pressed to the headrest. “Marines don’t faint.”

“Is that what you are now? A Marine? Not a detective?”

He blew out a breath. “Once a Marine...”

She lifted her chin and gave him an appraising stare with those bright, intelligent eyes.

“Look, if I tell you the truth, chances are good you won’t believe me. But if you are captured, you’ll know that you died protecting your country.”

“Um, I can’t die. It will kill my mother.”

“Then we have to get off the road.”

She said nothing, but slipped her hand into her purse, leaving it there on what he suspected was the handle of the gun. He’d need to take that from her soon. But for now it seemed to make her feel safe. Chances were good that she’d make her escape attempt just as soon as she got out of the car.

“I have a cabin reserved close to here.”

“They have your car.”

“So?”

“So they’ll find you there.”

“That’s impossible.”

“By now they have your social media posts for the last decade. You didn’t mention your plans there, did you?”

She said nothing. Of course she had.

“They know your home address because it is on the car rental agreement.”

“How do you know it’s a rental?”

“Bar code. Rear window.”

“Who are they?”

“Mercenaries.”

“Not mobsters or DEA. Now they are mercenaries?”

“Hired by a terrorist cell working within the US. Chinese, we think.”

“They didn’t look Chinese.”

“Did they look like DEA agents?”

She dragged her white upper teeth over her lower lip and something inside him stirred with interest. He pushed it down.

“They shot at us. They didn’t identify themselves. And they sure as hell didn’t try to apprehend us.”

She pressed her fist to her mouth and glanced out the ruined front window.

“They didn’t do those things because they planned to kill you and take me.” He rubbed his tired eyes with a thumb and index finger. “Tell me where you are staying.”

She explained about an adventure camp that her father had planned for her to try to get her to do something new and have a technology-free, screen-free adventure in nature.

“Mission accomplished. You’ve had an adventure. What did you think?”

“As expected. Hated it.”

“How many cabins at the camp?”

“No idea.”

“More than twelve?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“All right. We’ll start there. Resupply and then head out.”

He counted the seconds during the long pause that followed. She was not planning to accompany him. Letting her slip away, thinking she’d escaped, would be best for one of them, but it wasn’t her.

She spoke at last. “Out where?”

“I have to collect some intel left by my contact.”

“I think I’d prefer to try the zip line.”

He dropped his hand to his lap and faced her. “They’re coming for us, Haley. And this time they will kill you.”

Ryan drove to the entrance of the adventure camp.

“Registration is tomorrow but if you were arriving after eight, they said they’d leave the key inside on the kitchen counter.”

They followed the signage to Adirondacks Adventures and drove down a rutted dirt road, sighting the lake through the trees, glistening pale in the starlight.

“What number is your cabin?”

“They don’t have numbers. I’m in Muskrat.”

His brows lifted but he said nothing to this.

Two large poles flanked the road. Between them was a sign carved into a solid plank of varnished pine, each letter painted black. It read Welcome to Adirondacks Adventures!

They cruised past a series of metal frames encircling a grouping of four trampolines, a low rock-climbing wall and an open pavilion.

The lights were still on in the lodge, which sat at the top of the hill facing the glittering dark lake and the cabins that faced a large central grassy area. Ryan drove around the circular road that took him past four large log cabins with covered porches, identical except for the signage. They rolled past Moose, an accessible cabin complete with a wheelchair ramp in place of stairs. Then came Black Bear, Elk and Wolf. He continued on past the lake, dock and boat ramp. Beside the ramp, rows of overturned kayaks and canoes lay on the grass, awaiting the adventure campers.

On the opposite side sat the smaller single cabins. First was Muskrat.

“That’s it,” she said.

But Ryan continued to roll by, passing Possum, Rabbit, Otter, Beaver, Ermine, Red Squirrel and finally Raccoon, which was also an accessible cabin.

Ryan drove around a second time as Haley stared into the darkness beyond the porch of Cabin Muskrat. It was doubtful they had found her location this quickly. But they’d be along.

“Detective Howard Insbrook?”

He didn’t look at her as he spoke. “I’m no more a detective than you are. My name is Ryan Carr. I’m a government operative.”

“Operative? You mean like in the Central Intelligence Agency?”

“That’s the one.”

“A spy?” she squeaked.

He shrugged. “I’m advising you not to run and not to scream when we leave this vehicle. Do you understand?” He turned his head and she nodded solemnly.

Ryan drew the stolen vehicle before the cabin designated Muskrat. When he left the auto his ribs were aching and the blanket he’d come away with was sticking to his skin. He got out and was on his way around to her, surprised that she hadn’t already started her run or screamed for help. When he got to her side of the vehicle, he saw why.

Haley pointed a pistol at him.

Defensive Action

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