Wind River Protector

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Over there. Let’s hide behind that bush.” He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, leading her quickly over the two hundred foot downslope where they were.

  His hand felt comforting, and Andy hurried to catch up to his long, ground-eating stride. In moments, they were flattened on their bellies, unmoving. Dev had drawn his pistol, his gaze pinned on the main hiking trail they’d just left. There was a curve in it and she couldn’t see anyone coming.

  Heart pounding in her throat, she suddenly saw a bald-headed man. Freezing, she hunkered down further, wanting to melt into the earth. In moments, eight men silently appeared, all in camo, carrying AR-15s or AK-47s, each with an extra loop of cartridges slung across one shoulder and their chests. They were all Caucasian, she noted, eyes squinted, peeking through some leaves. Dev was like a stone, unmoving. Fear arced through her. There was no question these were drug soldiers, their gazes pinned on the nearby ridge. Oh God . . . she began to pray not to be seen by them. They were two hundred feet away from the main trail. Sweat trickled down her temples as she suppressed the sound of her breathing by opening her mouth.

  The drug soldiers didn’t speak. Every one of them was hard-faced, focused, and she knew they’d kill them if they realized how close they were. It sent a savage chill down her spine, the same kind she’d experienced before in a far-off land. Only this time, it was her country, and that upset her deeply. Dev had slowly eased his iPhone into position, taking a number of photos of the men as they hustled by at a swift trot. He then moved it into his side pocket without rustling a leaf or making any sound. Andy knew these photos would be important to the FBI and other agencies who were working with the Lincoln County sheriff to rid them of these vermin.

  A wall of relief flowed through Andy as the group disappeared over the top of the ridge, heading down below to the meadow. She saw Dev watching the trail intently, as if waiting to see more soldiers coming. The past melded into the present. She lay there, unmoving, not speaking, sensing he was using his acute radar, wanting to make sure they were safe to move. But move to where?

  Dev slowly got to his knees, watching where he placed his legs so he didn’t crack a branch or make some other sound. She mimicked him and leaned back on her heels, hands on her thighs, waiting to see what he was going to say. In Afghanistan, they would always speak in soft tones to see whether the other person disagreed with a plan.

  “You know this area, Andy,” he said close to her ear, his hand wrapping around her upper arm, their heads almost touching. “We need to get down in altitude, to a place where our radio will start working so we can call the sheriff’s department.”

  “Agreed.” She lifted her head away from his and turned, looking down the steeper slope below them. There was no trail and the floor was littered with dry pine. That carpet would be as slick as walking on ice. Swallowing, she shared her thoughts. “If we go down the trail, we might meet more drug soldiers,” she warned.

  “Yes,” Dev said, giving a brusque nod. “So? Down this slope?” and he pointed toward it.

  “Only choice. Want me to lead?”

  “Yes, go ahead. I’ll watch our six.” He squeezed her arm. “We’ll get out of this like we did before.”

  Meeting his narrowed eyes, she saw the grimness and determination in them, just as before. Reaching over, she gripped his hand at his side, giving it a strong squeeze. “Together. Like always.”

  He held her hand, his gaze becoming intense. “Andy . . . if anything happens? You need to know something . . . I’m falling in love with you. I have been for a long time, probably since the day I met you, but I wasn’t aware of it at the time.” His voice lowered, emotional and deep. “I love you. I need you to know that in case something happens . . .”

  Her throat tightened, and she felt the warm strength of his hand around hers, protective and so necessary to her right now. “Same here,” she choked out, her voice hoarse. “I’ve been falling in love with you, too, Dev.” She saw relief come to his tightened features. “It feels good to finally tell you that. No matter what happens—”

  “No. We’re getting out of this alive, Andy. No question. We’ll work together like we did in Afghanistan. It’s nothing new to us. I need a future with you. We’ll get out of this alive one way or another. All right?”

  Andy wanted to protest because, above all, she was a realist, not an idealist. Seeing the raw determination in Dev’s features, she swallowed what she was going to say. Instead, she leaned forward, placing her lips against his. “Kiss me,” she whispered brokenly against his mouth. A forever kiss, in case they didn’t get out of this dire situation alive. She saw his face grow tender, love for her fully unveiled in his eyes. Without a word, he released her hand and then framed her face.

  She had kissed a number of men in her life, but as Dev slid his mouth lightly against her lips, as if slowly memorizing their shape, how they felt, finally sealing their secret longing and love for each other, made her lashes close, tears building behind them. This could be a goodbye kiss. Or it could become a kiss of possibility for them if they got out alive. As he leaned into her lips, gently parting them, tasting her, taking his time in exploring her, tears slid out of her eyes and down her cheeks. They trailed into the corners of their mouths.

  Lifting his mouth away, he stared deeply into her glistening eyes as she lifted her lashes to meet that intense gaze of his. “Those had better be tears of joy, Andy, not tears of grief.”

  She managed a wobbly smile, her hands sliding over his shoulders and down his upper arms. “Tears of possibility,” she rasped out brokenly. There was no way she was going to let Dev know that their lives weren’t guaranteed. “You’re the idealist. I’m the realist.”

  Releasing her hands he cupped her face and wiped away the tears with his thumbs. “Tears of possibility, then, sweetheart.”

  His touch was so light and caring, it broke her inwardly, but she shored up and didn’t allow him to see how scared she was of losing him. So much could go wrong. Things they didn’t know, enemies who were out there with military-grade weapons that could literally cut them in half if they hit one of them with a hollow-tipped bullet. Swallowing hard, her throat aching, she gave a jerky nod, unable to speak for fear of wailing out her terror.

  “Good,” he growled, releasing her. “Let’s get going.”

  She slowly rose, sweeping her gaze from the ridge to the trail below it before she attempted to move. Her heart was pounding. One wrong move, one foot put in the wrong place, could make a lot of sound. And if someone was nearby and heard it? Shaking her head, she stepped down the slope, watching where she placed her feet, keeping the wall of brush as a shield from prying eyes.

  Her heart spun with joy, her lips tingling with the brush of a kiss he’d given her. Terror mounted and entwined with dread and hope. She could hear him behind her, walking so that sound was turned down in volume. There were so many pine needles on the ground, so many chances to walk on one, sending a crackling snap through the air. Loud enough to draw an enemy’s attention. Her love for Dev was finally exposed. At the worst possible time. Would they be allowed a future together? Or their bodies found later? Seesawing between reality and hope, she forced herself to focus on where she was going to put her next step.

  They had gone fifteen minutes down the slope, cautious and careful, watching where the woods were thicker, and therefore they were less likely to be spotted by the enemy. How many drug soldiers were around this area? Her mind spun with tactics, strategies, in case they were discovered. Her throat never stopped feeling tight, as if she couldn’t draw in a full breath of air. Sometimes she would use a tree trunk, her hand pressed against it, to make a longer step to avoid a limb. The roughness of the bark brought her back to reality. Her knees were beginning to tighten up as the slope grew even steeper. There were rocks sticking up and out of the sea of brown pine needles here and there. Other rocks, much smaller, were hidden beneath the surface. She was always looking for any bump in the carpet beneath her feet th
at would signal a hidden rock. Those were easy to avoid. She wasn’t concerned about those. Smaller rocks, all jagged, if stepped upon, could throw her off-balance. She could fall, and make noise if she did.

  Everything about the five days of outrunning the Taliban came slamming back into Andy. Shocked at the intensity of her terror and worry, it cascaded around her. She wondered if Dev felt similarly. Oh, how she wanted a second chance with Dev. If only . . . if only . . .

  * * *

  Breathing hard, Dev reached out and touched Andy’s shoulder, a nonverbal command. She halted immediately. They’d managed to come onto a plateau, and there she found an old, unused trail. Together, they’d jogged for at least a mile. It wasn’t a downward trail, but it did lead them away from the area that could have more drug soldiers.

  Halting, Andy turned and looked up at him. His dark-green T-shirt was wet with sweat beneath his arms, his face glistening from their push to get out of danger. His hands rested on her shoulders, caressing her as he leaned near her head.

  “We’ve lost about a thousand feet. I’m going to try the radio now.”

  Nodding, she caressed the dampness on his cheek. Stepping away from him, she saw him unlock the pack on his back and swing it around, setting it on the ground between them. Her job was to be the lookout. Look for what was out of place. He’d taught her that during those five days, and she’d never forgotten it. Walking a good ten feet away from where he knelt on the trail, one knee down on the yellow soil, the radio to his mouth, she mentally crossed her fingers that they could make contact with someone at the sheriff’s department.

  Keeping an ear cocked on his quiet voice, which she honestly couldn’t hear all that well, her gaze swept the area in a 360-degree sweep and saw nothing. Nor did she hear anything that was out of place. Above her, a squirrel chut-chut-chutted at her. The trail disappeared at the end of a low-hanging ledge. Below, it was the same as above.

  Turning, she saw Dev talking, and her heart soared. He’d made contact! Still, she remained on guard. Hope rose in her chest and she wanted so badly to give in to it. She wanted to run to Dev, hug him with a fierceness she’d always hidden from him, let him know just how deeply she loved him.

  After a ten-minute talk, Dev switched off the radio and put his pad and pencil in his pocket. He drew out his father’s compass, the same one that had saved them before, setting the new direction for them. He smiled a little as he approached Andy, who remained on guard. She nodded, hope filling her as she watched him approach. Lifting his arm, he slid it around her shoulders, drawing her gently against him, his lips near her brow.

  “I talked with Sarah. She’s got everything we saw. She retrieved a map of where we are. I took down coordinates we can follow with my compass to get us down to the highway. She’s alerting the ATF, the DEA, and the FBI. The Teton sheriff is sending their SWAT unit to meet up with them, plus their helicopter. The Air Force is going to have a high-altitude drone fly over that meadow to get real-time position info on this group and their cargo.”

  She wanted to collapse against him. Instead, she released a ragged sigh and pressed her brow against his chest. His heart pounded in her ear. “Is the drone up there now?”

  “Yeah,” he said wryly, “they were conducting high-altitude trainings for their pilots and just happened to be near this area. Sarah contacted them, and if we follow the compass direction she gave me, we’ll avoid other parties who are in the area.”

  Frowning, she stepped away enough to look up at him. “More drug soldiers?”

  “Yeah,” he said unhappily. “There are two more groups. A second one about halfway up to where we were hiding near the ridge. The second group is where our truck is parked at the trailhead. They have four rental trucks in that lot right now with two men in each one, waiting for the bales to be carried down to them.”

  “So, they’re going to haul these bales out by hand?” she asked, stunned. “Back on the ridge trail to the parking lot?”

  “Yes, that’s what they’re doing. A large eighteen-wheeler broke down halfway to that meadow on the only dirt road leading in to it. Our guess is that they abandoned it and have initiated their plan B to get those bales out of there.”

  She stared in shock. “In broad daylight?”

  “They have no choice,” Dev said, looking up and around. “Their transport broke down, so it’s Sarah’s guess that the drug lord ordered the rental of the four trucks. She said there are twenty men coming up the slope from the meadow right now, each one carrying a bale. The second group halfway up the ridge trail will meet them and probably help carry the bales to the trucks to get them out of here as fast as they can.”

  “Whew,” she muttered, absorbing his arm around her shoulders, wanting so much more from Dev. But now was not the time or place. “Sarah’s given you coordinates to avoid all of them, right?”

  “Yes. We have about three quarters of a mile before we’ll be at the highway. She’s sending a cruiser right now to pick us up. We should be able to make it to the highway in fifteen or so minutes.” He held out his hand, showing her the old, brass compass. Giving her a look of irony, he said, “Once more, my dad’s compass is saving us. Unbelievable.”

  “I’m ready to go,” she said. “Are you?”

  He grinned, pressed a kiss to her brow and released her. “Yeah, come on. We have a lot to talk about once we get out of this jam.”

  Grinning, she said, “A whole lot, Mitchell. Let’s hoof it!”

  September 5

  2:00 p.m.

  Andy began to feel disembodied as she walked out of the Lincoln County building. It came upon her suddenly, out of the blue. A sense of not being here-and-now overwhelmed her. There was a bench nearby and she slipped her hand into Dev’s and said, “I need to sit down for a moment.” She saw instant concern on his face. He, too, was exhausted by the intense meeting with another sheriff’s deputy, getting all the information they could give him. The sheriff was delighted with the video Dev had taken with his iPhone. That information had already gone out to the task force that was now, he was sure, taking on the drug soldiers. He knew there would be a shoot-out. And so did Andy. He could see the worry in her expression. Sarah had nearly been killed by Brian Elson earlier. And now she was in the thick of it again, though this time the FBI was taking the lead, with twenty agents coming in from central Wyoming. It was going to be a war in that parking lot, no question. The only unanswered one was whether any of Sarah’s deputies or anyone else on their side of law enforcement would be wounded.

  Sitting, he placed his arm around her shoulders. The day had warmed up to the high seventies. “You all right? You look pale, Andy.”

  “I’m not sure,” and she gave him a weary look and held out her hands. “All of a sudden, I feel shaky inside and out. Look . . .” and she held out her hands in front of her, seeing the tremors, subtle but there.

  Making a sound of sympathy, Dev removed his arm and turned, his knees pressed against hers while he gently gathered her hands with his. “It’s adrenaline crash, Andy. Sit back, close your eyes and start taking nice, slow, deep breaths. That will help.”

  What helped was his unexpected, but oh so welcome attention. His hands were much larger than hers, rough but warm and caring. Gulping, she did as he requested, sinking against the back of the bench, feeling weakness stealing through every part of her. Tears jammed into her eyes and she gulped again. What the hell was going on? Confused, she opened them, staring at Dev. “I feel faint . . . want to cry. What’s this all about, Dev?”

  His mouth slashed and he squeezed her cold, damp fingers a little more surely between his own. “Did you have a letdown like this after we got to the ER at Bagram? After we were rescued?”

  Frowning, she thought. “Yes . . . I did. It was so long ago, I’d forgotten about it.”

  “Do you think this morning triggered some of what was still hanging around in you? The trauma we experienced was five days long and we didn’t know if we were going to survive it. That�
��s big-time trauma.”

  Blinking, the tears running down her cheeks, she felt foolish. “I guess it is.”

  “We lived through a lot of trauma back then,” Dev rasped, easing his fingers through the hair at her temple, smoothing it away from her eyes. “This one today was equally dangerous.”

  Her voice was raspy. “How are you feeling, then?”

  Shrugging, he said, “It hasn’t hit me like it has you. I feel exhausted. All I want to do is lay down and go to sleep.” Well, that was a half-truth. In reality, Dev wanted Andy in his arms, wanted to love her and then sleep with her. She wasn’t ready for that, so he kept it to himself. Right now, she was having a flashback, married to the threat they’d just survived.

  Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she muttered, “Maybe the difference between men and women, then?”

  “Maybe. You’ve got a little color back in your cheeks. Are you feeling a bit better?” and he gazed at her intently.

  There was such love in his gaze for her that Andy did feel better. “Yes . . . better.”

  “Love always does that, you know?” and he shared an affectionate look with her.

  “At least,” she whispered, “this forced us to fess up that we’ve fallen in love with each other . . .”

  “One of several good things to come out of this. We’re alive, too.” He smoothed back her hair. “Do you feel like going home? My truck is still at that parking lot. One of the deputies said she’d drive us to our condo. We can use your truck for wheels after that.”

  “Yes, it’s safe and sound in the condo parking lot. I hope they don’t steal your truck or blow holes through it during the firefight.”

  Dev laughed a little and stood. “The good news is, we aren’t in it if it happens. Right?”

  She looked up at him, missing his bulk, his touch, wanting more, so much more. “Hadn’t thought about that, but yes.”