by Geri Krotow
Had been parked. Flames still burned, on what she could only guess was the upholstery. The frame glowed in a few places, and the stench of the burning vehicle was worse here, making her eyes water.
She knew she was visible but took the chance to cross the small clearing and headed toward the dirt road. It was a small victory but she’d take it. The sense of accomplishment when she recognized the road through the smoke and moonlight spurred her forward, her bruised hands and knees not so painful.
As soon as she got to the road, she’d climb back into the wooded area—
A harsh yank on her still-damp hair forced a scream from her lips, and she found herself flat on her back, looking at the tip of a rifle barrel.
“Did you really think you’d be able to get away, Kit?” Mishka’s profile against the pale moonlight was more sinister than the demons of her worst nightmares. Because, unlike his father, Vadim, Mishka wasn’t in jail. He was here, and she was certain he was going to kill her.
* * *
“How much longer?” Colt rode shotgun as Claudia plowed her Hummer up the side of an Appalachian mountain, her driving skills only hinting at her well-honed fighting skills.
“Five minutes, tops.” Her face, illuminated by the dashboard, reflected her distress. “It’s not like either of them to not check in.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I know.” If Kit was hurt, or worse, at the hands of ROC, he wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself for sending her on this op. She’d suffered so much at the hands of ROC and one of its members, to have to face the end like this...
“Stop it, Colt.”
“What?”
“I know you. You’re blaming yourself. This isn’t our fault. We’re up against it, about to take ROC out of Silver Valley and dismantle all their East Coast operations. Whatever it takes to get the job done is the deal, my love.”
“And this is why I knew I had to marry you. Who else can make facing a deadly adversary sound so sexy?”
Their phones sounding alerts cut off her answering laugh.
“Keep driving—I’ve got it.” Colt checked his phone and his stomach dropped when he read the SOS.
“It’s from Luther. He says the Jeep’s been blown up. He and Kit are evacuating.”
“There it is.” He looked out the dashboard and heard both their shocked intakes of breath. All that remained of Luther’s Jeep was a burning pile of steel, approximately a half mile from their location.
Claudia screeched to a halt, grabbing a rifle from the back seat and handing it to Colt. She took one for herself. They both wore holstered handguns.
“Ready?” She looked at him and he nodded. “Let’s do it.” Claudia exited and followed suit on his side.
They walked away from the Hummer, weapons drawn.
“How do you want to proceed?” He was a member of Trail Hikers because he was the Chief of Police and needed to be able to work closely with the clandestine group. Claudia was the expert and boss on any TH ops, and right now TH was running the show on the push to bring down ROC. FBI was in the mix, too, and would get a lot of the credit when they succeeded, but anyone who was briefed on the entire mission knew the deal.
Claudia Michele was the lynchpin that held it all together.
He watched his wife, the love of his life, assess the situation in the moonlight. “We could drive the rest of the way there, but it’ll give us away. It’s no more than a half mile from here.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Claudia was a faster runner than he was, but Colt could pour it on when needed, and kept up with her, the urgency to get to the cabin palpable.
After five minutes, he noticed the shape of a building next to the reddish glow, which was growing larger as they closed in.
Claudia’s breath hardly hitched. “Yes. It looks like a beat-up shack but it’s practically bombproof.”
He said nothing. If Claudia, the director of the most elite government shadow agency in the world, said it was “practically” bombproof, it meant it was one of the safest places on earth.
They drew closer and slowed to a quick walk. Claudia motioned for him to stop. The stench of what he recognized as a burning car replaced the pine scent of the woods. Colt had another familiar sensation, one he always faced with deep regret.
He’d been around enough crime scenes, come to the aid of undercover cops enough times to know a bad deal.
Fear welled, managed by years of experience. Colt had to be the partner Claudia needed. Especially if, as he suspected, they’d arrived too late to make a difference in the outcome of tonight’s op.
* * *
“Stop it.” Kit’s voice scraped her throat, her jaw clenched as she fought against her hair being pulled by the man she never wanted to see again. Not for the first time she wished she’d worked harder to have him put away, too.
“Shut the freak up, or I’ll shoot you in between your pretty blue eyes, bitch.” Mishka panted, the physical exertion not in his wheelhouse. If she weren’t trying to get out of his grip, she’d point out that he’d copied Luther’s threat. Mishka was not original. He was the classic image of his father, allowing rich living to cause obesity and poor health.
“You don’t have to make it hurt.” Gasping against the assault, she held on to her hair at the root, trying to ease the discomfort of his tugs. He dragged her past the side of the cabin where he’d caught her, away from the incinerated Jeep.
Luther.
“You’ll never get away with—” A hit to her cheek seared pain through her skull, already shaken from the hit in the sauna. She fought to gain balance on the wet leaves, surprised at Mishka’s strength.
“I already have. I’ve saved you. You’ll be best with me, Kit. Trust me.” Fear spiked her pain as she wondered what had happened to Luther. She had to save them both if Luther had been hurt. Mishka’s face was pale even in the moonlight, and she wondered if he’d not had his beer or vodka tonight. If he was in early alcohol withdrawal, he was only going to get meaner the longer she was with him.
“Use this if you have to.” Luther’s command cut through her fear-fueled thoughts.
The handgun was still in her waistband. It had felt like a rock when Mishka had thrown her to the ground, but thankfully it hadn’t gone off. Mishka hadn’t discovered it, proving he truly was a fool. He assumed she was the same girl who’d been trapped in a loveless, painful relationship by his father.
She heard Mishka’s foot hit a rock and he stumbled, momentarily loosening his grip on her hair. She braced herself for another fall as he let go of her hair and she twisted out of his clutches. It was almost too easy as she found herself on all fours and quickly scrambled to standing, backing up from him.
“Don’t even think about it!” Enraged, he swung out for her, his hand missing her head by no more than an inch.
“It’ll be easier to go if we’re both standing.” She forced the words out, told herself to focus on her breathing, all the while watching his hand with the handgun. The rifle he’d used on them was slung sloppily over his shoulder and she recognized an AR-15. It made sense it was what had fired the bullets through the trees at her and Luther. At least Mishka seemed to have forgotten about the rifle for now.
A handgun could be just as deadly, though.
He loomed close, his hand just missing her upper arm.
“Get over here.” He wasn’t listening to reason and she kept out of his reach, unable to bolt, knowing he’d shoot her on the spot. No matter how much he said he wanted to be with her.
“Stop. Police.” A loud male voice sounded further down the dirt road.
Colt.
Claudia was near, too. She’d bet on it.
The interruption forced Mishka to look away, and Kit seized the chance to grab the pistol from her back waistband. Her fingers switched off the safety and she prepared to fire, aiming at M
ishka before she had time to think twice. All the hours on Vadim’s firing range, coupled with the training she received from Trail Hikers on an unofficial basis, kicked in. Mostly, though, she felt the strength of Luther’s belief in her.
“I’ll never let her go.” Mishka’s voice was soaked with determination of the same intensity that she’d watched Vadim channel into trafficking hundreds, possibly thousands of girls into the country. Mishka wasn’t going to budge.
“Put your weapon down and your hands up, Mishka. We can talk this out.” Colt was an expert at criminal negotiations and Kit prayed he’d strike a chord with Mishka, make him change his mind.
She peered into the darkness, unable to see anyone with the Chief, but she knew if Colt was here, Claudia had at least sent him. Somehow they’d known that Luther and she were in trouble.
Colt would never come in here alone. There had to be backup.
“Never.” Mishka’s response was little more than a growl and she knew Colt might not have heard him. Mishka moved quickly for a man unused to physical exertion, dropping his handgun and grabbing the rifle, aiming it in the direction of Colt’s voice.
“He’s got an AR-15!” she screamed as she prepared to fire.
“Shut up!” But Mishka didn’t look at her as he began to swing the rifle in a sweeping motion. He was going to shoot at Colt and whoever was in the woods nearby.
Kit fired.
Mishka jerked as if he’d received a jolt of electricity to his side, then turned his head to her. His arms dropped and he let go of both weapons, wavering on his feet as he stared at her through the moonlight. Dark, troubled eyes blazed in a face lined with disbelief. “You shot me.”
He dropped to the ground with an anticlimactic plop. Kit quickly kicked the handgun and rifle out of his reach, careful to avoid his hands in case he was still capable of reaching for her.
“Kit, are you okay?” Colt’s voice halted any potential racing thoughts, and she met her boss’s gaze with newfound steadiness.
“I’m okay, but Luther—”
A second figure ran up to them. “Good work, Kit. Where’s Luther?” Claudia had provided backup for Colt.
“I don’t know—somewhere behind the cabin, maybe. I thought he might be here, behind me.”
“I’ll give Mishka first aid. You find Luther.” Colt spoke as he knelt next to the still figure, and Kit had no time to worry if she’d mortally injured Mishka. She had to get to Luther.
That awful feeling of something being wrong assailed her as she and Claudia ran around the back of the cabin.
“Luther!” she shouted as Claudia swept a flashlight beam across the clearing, the light illuminating the shadows that hid from the moonlight.
“We were back there.” Kit ran toward the trees, fighting the panic that welled in her midsection. Please, Luther, be okay. Be right here, safe. As she came up against the woods, she saw him. Her blood ran cold.
Lying on his back, his upper torso atop a crushed bush while his long legs stretched out into the flattened ground, Luther was as still as a corpse.
“No!” she screamed, and ran to him. “Claudia, he’s here. Luther!” Kit pounced on the ground next to Luther and grabbed his face, willed him to open his eyes. Claudia was on the other side, her slim fingers pressed to the side of Luther’s throat.
“Is he...” No, no no. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Luther.
“He’s still alive but I think he’s shot. We have to find out where, Kit. Quickly.” They worked from his head to his torso, down his sides. At the midpoint of his thigh, Kit’s fingers felt something sticky.
“Claudia, here.” The flashlight illuminated what Kit feared—a large bloodstain with a single hole in the middle of his pants.
“Use your jacket, Kit.” She didn’t have to be told how or why. Trail Hikers and SVPD provided extensive first aid training to include bullet wounds. Kit felt underneath his leg for a possible exit wound but it was difficult with the ground already wet from the rain and snow. As she worked to stabilize Luther and stop any further bleeding, she heard Claudia calling in for emergency medical aid.
Satisfied she’d done the best she could, she held Luther’s hand and looked at Claudia. “They’re never going to be able to get here in time. We had first aid equipment in the Jeep but it’s gone.”
Footfalls sounded and they turned, Claudia with a weapon ready to fire. Colt held up his hands as he neared. “Whoa, it’s me.”
Claudia didn’t apologize, and if she weren’t so worried about Luther, Kit might have had to laugh. “Announce yourself, then.”
“Mishka’s out of commission, but I think there’s a good chance he’ll make it, if we can get him to an ER.” His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. “Luther.”
Claudia nodded. “He’s got a bullet in his thigh, and he’s going to need attention ASAP. I called it in, but we’re going to need the board.”
“On it.” Colt turned and ran back around the cabin.
“You have a board with you?” Kit knew Claudia was always prepared, but this seemed over-the-top even for the director of Trail Hikers.
“We drove our Hummer. We’ll fit both casualties in the back and meet the life flight at the base of the mountain, in the parking lot.”
Kit shook her head. “I’ll help you get them inside your vehicle, but I have to stay here, Claudia. We can’t lose Ivanov’s trail over this.” Though it would kill her to have to entrust Luther’s care to someone else, she couldn’t help him anymore.
She could, however, find Ivanov.
“You think you’ve found him, then?”
“Yes—did you see my last report? There’s enough chatter in Russian, or at least there was, that I think it could be him. But he’s smart and using a different burner with each call. By the time I get it unscrambled, he’s ended the connection.”
“Typical.” Claudia snorted. “You can’t be out here alone, though. No one can do the stakeout here. There’s a good chance this was all compromised by a leak in SVPD.”
That got Kit’s attention.
“One of our own? Do you think it’s a TH, too?”
“I don’t know. We have never had a mole in TH, due to our extensive background checks. But it can happen. Right now I’m thinking it’s SVPD. Either way, it’s bad business.”
“Who are they working for? ROC?”
“Don’t know. Most likely. That’s why I hope Mishka makes it—we can ask him about his plans, how he knew where to find you. He may be the person who’s been following you.”
“He’s not. I would have seen him.”
“But you might not have been aware of someone he hired to follow you.”
“No.” Kit fought back the nausea that threatened. She’d never felt so helpless, even in her darkest time with Vadim. Holding the cold hand of the man who’d shown more love to her in a few short days than she’d ever received her entire life, she was powerless to save him.
“You’ve done what you can do here, Kit. Luther’s tough. He’s been through much more extensive injuries. Get the comms gear together and be prepared to set it back up at a new location.”
Kit nodded, followed it with “yes, ma’am.” Then, throwing all professional caution to the wind, she leaned over and kissed Luther on the lips.
“Hang tight, babe. We’re going to get these bastards.”
Chapter 16
Luther regained consciousness in the hospital, when the prick of several needles broke through the fog he’d been in since he went down.
“What the—”
“Luther. It’s Claudia. Take it easy. Here.” She held a straw to his lips and he sucked the cool water down, then immediately sputtered at his dry throat.
“Where’s Kit?” He focused on Claudia’s face as his eyes couldn’t see any farther yet. Had he taken a hit to the head?
>
“Funny you ask that first thing. She’s safe, working.”
“How many bullets did I take?”
“Only one, and it was a clear shot, with an exit wound. You’re lucky. It didn’t hit your femoral artery, and you’ll be sore but on your feet soon.”
Wasn’t that the truth. He’d witnessed horrific gunshot wounds to the thigh that shattered femurs, cost the victims months of surgeries and rehab.
“When can I get out of here?”
“Maybe tomorrow, or the next day.”
“I can’t stay here that long.” It was excruciating to talk, to think. “Did they knock me out for surgery or something?”
“It’s the pain meds. They had to keep you sedated while they cleaned out your wound.”
That explained why his leg burned like hell. And he knew he was only experiencing the earliest part of it. A gunshot wound to his shoulder years ago had taken the better part of two years to heal, and that shoulder still got stiff in cold weather.
“I have to be on the op with Kit, Claudia. You know that.” Kit wasn’t able to fully protect herself; she needed a sworn agent or officer who could keep watch while she worked the comms.
“She’s safe for now, Luther.” Claudia’s face moved away, and he saw her sit in a chair that was pulled up to the bed. “Do you want to sit up a bit more?”
“Yeah.”
She handed him the bed’s controller and depressed the button with him. He let go when he was at maybe forty-five degrees, but it felt more like he was bent in two. “I hate being knocked down like this.”
Claudia patted his forearm. “We all do. So do you want to tell me what happened?”
Guilt pierced his pain, the memory of being with Kit in the bathhouse pouring a healing peace through him while making him afraid to tell his boss he’d screwed up.
“Heavens, Luther, you’re as red as a berry. I don’t want to know any personal details about you and Kit. I’m talking about when you got shot.”
