Читать книгу Defensive Action - Jenna Kernan - Страница 15

He had no time for Haley’s shenanigans.

“Stop right there,” she ordered. Her gun hand was unnervingly steady.

“You ever shot a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Pistol?”

She shook her head.

“Back away,” she ordered.

“You ever shoot a man, Haley?”

She pressed her lips together, looking determined. From somewhere across the way came the sound of conversation and then a woman’s laughter. The other adventure campers were settling in.

“You have to flip the safety off or it won’t shoot. It’s right there.” He extended his hand to point, never taking his eyes off her. But she took her eyes off him.

Haley’s gaze dropped to the gun, turning it slightly in search of the safety.

Ryan did not even bother to strike her a blow. Instead, he captured her wrist and redirected the aim of the pistol skyward with one hand and removed it from her grip with the other.

He kept a hold on her as she made a vain effort to regain custody of the pistol, now well out of reach. Had she been a man, he would have punched her in the stomach or throat to make his point but, as Haley was female, tiny and his savior, he simply dragged her forward until she collided with his chest.

He meant the move as a way to get her attention and highlight that he was stronger, faster and more experienced. But when her soft body collided with his chest, stomach and hips, something unexpected happened.

The warning died on his lips as he took in the feel of her pressed up against him. She smelled wonderful, clean and floral. He inclined his head to inhale the sweetness of her hair and felt the stirring of attraction rippling through him.

Ryan’s body’s reaction caused him both dismay and irritation. He would never have sought out a little Good Samaritan with hair the color of a field mouse. Yet here he was, and his body definitely liked her well enough to become fully aroused. She must have felt it, his erection growing by the second, because she squeaked and tried to step back.

Little mouse, he thought again.

He wanted to press his opposite hand to her lower back and melt her closer to him, but the pistol in that hand and the clinking of wineglasses to his left drew him back to business.

Ryan dipped his head until his jaw was pressed to her forehead. His voice was a low growl as his lips moved close to the shell of her ear.

“We are leaving the vehicle and heading to the lodge. If you try to run, I’ll catch you. If you call for help, I’ll have to kill whoever you involve. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, trembling.

He drew her under his arm, stooped to retrieve the blanket and wrapped it about them both. Her purse thumped against her hip as he guided her along the lakeshore, where he discovered that the canoes did not have paddles. He fixed his attention on the lodge, taking them past the dock and uphill behind the larger cabins. The area was neatly mown and each cabin had a large propane tank. There were lights from lanterns in both Wolf and Elk but the other residences appeared empty. A good place to sleep if not for the possible interruption by late arrivals and the fact that this was where Haley Nobel was expected to be. It was just a matter of time before his pursuers arrived to discover that car and set up perimeters accordingly.

As they reached the top of the hill, the lights flicked off in the lodge. This structure at least had electricity. A moment later a young man emerged wearing baggy pants gathered at the ankle, sandals and a T-shirt with the Sanskrit for namaste on his chest. He was white with an athletic build and his hair was styled in sun-bleached dreadlocks.

Ryan tugged Haley beside the Moose cabin. Just beyond, a group of people continued drinking and laughing. They were a poor choice for help, but if Haley planned to run or scream, now would be a great time.

He followed the direction of her gaze. She watched the young man as he swung along with a loose, carefree stride. With each step he moved farther from their position. Ryan tugged her close to his side and whispered, “Do you really want to be the cause of that young man’s death?”

Haley made a sound in her throat that he interpreted as alarm but she did not cry out as they moved across the road and alongside the main lodge. He used the blanket to muffle the sound of his elbow breaking the windowpane that allowed him access to the lock. Once the window was open he lifted Haley through the gap and maintained control of her arm as he stepped inside behind her.

Either by design or accident, the young man had left a light on in the hallway that flanked the large fireplace on the right. So Ryan could see that they’d entered into the main meeting area, judging from the rows of folding chairs and a large central stone fireplace. To the left of the fireplace was a return station for trays and food, indicating a cafeteria beyond the closed double doors. To the right lay the lighted hallway. He assumed this led to restrooms and possibly an equipment storage facility.

He headed for the kitchen. He had not eaten since shortly before his capture earlier in the day and he was dehydrated and low on fuel. The kitchen door was flimsy and burst open with one kick. He dragged Haley along inside, closed the door behind them and then risked turning on the light.

“Food,” he said and quickly located supplies. He filled his stomach with water straight from the tap of the large stainless steel sink. Next he located a tray of muffins, corn, blueberry and bran, along with a variety of breads.

He set the loaves of bread aside and ate two blueberry muffins in rapid succession. When he looked up it was to find Haley staring at him in stunned silence.

“What?” he asked.

“When did you last eat?”

“Early this morning.”

Her response was a sharp intake of breath. Then his little captive began scouring the walk-in refrigerator and brought him milk and orange juice. Kindness again. She was unexpected as sunshine in a cave.

“See if you can find portable food. Cereal, soup.”

“Granola bars,” she said, now standing before the stainless steel shelving. “Two kinds. Oh, and graham crackers. Hershey bars! And marshmallows. I remember these!”

He started putting supplies in a nylon bag he located hanging on a peg on the back wall beside some aprons. When the bag was full he moved on. He grabbed several dish towels and a carving knife, which he tucked into his rear pocket.

She had something in her hand, a white plastic case. “First-aid kit,” she said.

“Take it and let’s go.”

He flicked off the light and they returned the way they had come. As predicted, the hallway yielded both a men’s and women’s bathroom.

“Um, I have to go,” said Haley.

He motioned her toward the women’s bathroom and surprised her by following her inside. Then he shut and locked the door and then flicked on the light.

“I can’t go with you here.”

“Your choice,” said Ryan as he turned on both faucets in the sink. He used liquid soap to wash his face, hair and torso. Abrasions burned at the contact of the water. He did the best he could to scrub out the gravel and succeeded in making most of the abrasions bleed again.

Haley had decided to use the toilet after all and then joined him at the sink to wash her hands.

“Would you like me to wash the wounds on your back?”

In answer, he turned, presenting her with his back. Her touch was tentative at first. He flinched as she picked away pieces of gravel that tinged against the porcelain in the sink.

“Your back is covered with bruises,” said Haley.

“Not the sort of treatment you’d expect from an agent from Federal Drug Enforcement,” he replied.

He heard her pull of breath. Was she beginning to believe him?

“All they have is a hand dryer.”

He rummaged in the supply bag and handed her a dish towel.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“I’d imagine so.” He glanced at her in the mirror. Her brow was furrowed as she dabbed at his back.

“Ready?” he asked.

“For what?” She met his gaze in the mirror. “Are they really the bad guys?”

“I’m not letting you hang around to find out.” He turned to face her, taking hold of her free hand. “I should leave you right here, Haley. It would increase my chances of getting back to the drop. But I have absolutely zero doubt that, if I do that, you will be picked up and tortured and killed.”

Her eyes went wide at that. She shook her head.

“Seems a poor thank-you. The thing is, I can drag you along with me. But I can’t be on the lookout to keep you from sneaking off. I’m going to need to sleep soon and I can’t take the risk of you giving away my position. So you have a choice. Stay here and take your chances or I’ll bring you along and, if you don’t slow me down, I’ll do my best to see you live through this.”

She cocked her head and stared as if he’d sprouted horns.

“How do I know if I can believe you?”

He shook his head. “What you witnessed back there is my proof. Law enforcement officers don’t behave that way. You have to know that. So if they are not who they say, maybe they are who I say. Mercenaries hired by Siming’s Army to recover the intelligence stolen by my contact.”

She was dragging her full lower lip through her teeth again. It was distracting as all get-out.

He growled. “You can admit that they’re dangerous.”

“You’re dangerous, too.”

“True. Uncle Sam spent a lot of money to see that I am...prepared for such situations. So, you coming or staying?”

She glanced about as if the answer would materialize in the small restroom. Confusion blanketed her delicate features. Those eyes looked cobalt blue under the artificial light.

Why had he given her the choice? He knew what his operations commander would tell him. She’d tell him to ditch this woman and never look back.

Haley drew a deep breath and he found himself holding his. Only at this second did he realize that he really wanted to keep her alive and with him. That made no sense. Was it because she had stopped to help him? Or because he wanted to kiss her?

That wasn’t it, or wasn’t all of it. He feared it was more.

“Okay, I’ll come with you. But I have to call my dad.”

He blew away his breath. “Let’s go.”

She handed the dish towel to him and pointed toward the blood running down his shoulder.

“I need to find a shirt.” Ryan flicked off the light and they continued on to a locked room marked Equipment.

The padlock was solid but the connection to the frame and door was not. Ryan was inside in less than thirty seconds. With the door closed and the light on, he found what he was looking for. Climbing ropes, carabineers, chocks, helmets, backpacks, mess kits, flotation vests, archery equipment and paddles.

He paused at an acrylic box designed to sit on a counter and hold brochures. Inside, the bright yellow-and-green banner of the top pamphlet announced: Adventure Camp.

He lifted the brochure and read from the text. “Plenty of adventures await. Outdoors...”

He turned the bullet list to her. “You going to do all this?”

She glanced at the columns that had sent dread down her spine since Hanukkah.

Outdoors:

Hiking

Backpacking

Camping

Sleeping under the stars

Bouldering

Rock Climbing

Zip-lining

Aquatic:

Swimming

Boating

Canoeing

Kayaking

Jet Skis

White-water Rafting

Cliff Jumping

She planned to avoid every last one.

“Of course,” she said, lifting her chin and daring him to refute her bravado.

He snorted and returned to loading a backpack with the food bag, a small camping stove, two fuel tanks and a mess kit. To this, he added two small nylon tents.

“Did you have to provide sleeping bags?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He took two bed pads and tied them on the top of the pack. “Get another pack,” he said.

She selected one and brought it to him. He added rope, headlamps and arrows. To his pack he tied an archery bow. The weapon was meant for recreation but in the right hands it was silent and it could be deadly. He shook out a woolen army blanket and sliced a slit in the center, transforming it into a poncho, which he slipped over his head.

“See if you can find matches or a lighter.” He located hiking maps and a guidebook to the Adirondack hiking trails and added these to his bundle. He tried to find two-way radios but settled for bug spray, sunscreen, a compass and a small folding shovel.

“What are these?” Haley said, lifting bug coils.

“Take those,” he said.

By the time he had the packs ready she had not found matches so they left without them. He used the main entrance to leave the lodge and returned the way they had come. He left both packs and Haley outside the first cabin as he used his blanket to break the back window. Once inside, he found himself in a bedroom that contained two sets of bunk beds. Upon each bunk was a rolled mattress too heavy to bring along and on the box springs sat a pillow, too big to bring along. There were also clean sheets in plastic containers and, bingo, a woolen blanket. He took two blankets and continued on to the kitchen. In the cabinet drawer he found a box of matches. He also purloined a can opener and small paring knife, two spoons, two forks and, from the tinderbox beside the fireplace, a small dull hatchet.

He half expected to find Haley gone when he returned, but she was there, her long neck stretched to full extension and her head swiveling back and forth.

Ryan added his new collection of gear to the second pack and helped Haley shoulder the load. He led her down behind the cabins to the lakeshore.

At the lakefront the water gently lapped the mud and gravel beyond the waiting canoes and kayaks, neatly stored on racks. If he were traveling alone he would have selected a kayak. It was sleeker, faster and required less effort to paddle. However, with Haley along, he instead selected a canoe, rolling it upright and sliding it half into the water. From there he took the pack Haley carried and placed it to the center of the canoe. He added his own pack beside hers so as to balance the load. Then he motioned to Haley.

“Time to go,” he said.

But Haley was backing away.

Ryan released the canoe and took two steps toward her. “Haley?”

She was shaking her head. “I can’t go with you. I can’t... I don’t know what’s happening but I’ll wait until you leave. Totally out of sight before I call the police.”

He lifted a hand toward her in a signal to stop and to come and to not make him responsible for this decision. He knew he was not going to force her into the canoe but he knew equally well that if he left her here on the lakeshore, she was sure to die.

“Haley, you can’t call the police. They’ll turn you over to those men. They’re good. Professionals. You won’t be able to tell the difference between them and the real thing. Neither will the locals. You have to trust me. I know it stinks, but I’m your only chance.”

“Ryan, no offense. But I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re involved in but I can’t be involved in it. My dad already paid for this camp. He wants me to get out there and try new things. He thinks... He thinks... I just have to go.”

“All right, Haley. I’m sorry for involving you in this. And I’m sorry you won’t come with me.”

She was backing away. Her cautious expression told him that she did not quite believe that he would let her simply leave.

“Take care,” she said.

He pushed the canoe farther into the water so that the front end became buoyant and only the back tip of the canoe was in contact with the shore. Then he added both paddles and pushed off. He held the gunwales and seated himself low on the bottom of the canoe. Making himself a smaller target. He used his fingernails to pop off three of the stick-on numbers that identifed the canoe and then lifted a paddle. He was already ten feet from the shore. Haley was a dark silhouette standing silent and motionless on the shoreline. He looked beyond her up the row of smaller cabins and noticed the glint of starlight on a metal roof. There was a vehicle parked in the gravel lot shared by Muskrat, Possum and Rabbit cabins. The vehicle had not been on-site when they entered the lodge.

Haley was moving now, back toward the cabin she had been assigned.

He could not call back to her and should not return for her. She’d made her choice. A bad choice, but hers, nonetheless. So he was going to paddle away and let the woman who saved his life walk into the jaws of death.

Seemingly of its own volition the paddle cut a clean edge through the lake water, turning the canoe back toward shore.