by Dale Mayer
“That would appeal,” she said. “I’d also love to have a half-dozen dogs, and who knows? Maybe run a rescue.”
He laughed again. “I don’t think that goes along with marketing.”
“No, but how about doing something for the business part of your soul and something for the creative part of your soul?”
He pondered that. “Interesting take on life.”
“Well, your work probably puts both of those together,” she said.
“How do you figure?”
“Because nobody could do this kind of work,” she said, a serious note to her voice, “if it wasn’t part of your heart. A part of you is a hero protector. Somebody who wants to do good deeds and to help provide for your country and your countrymen.”
“Okay then, what’s the creative part of my job?”
“Just figuring out each mission. Outsmarting the bad guys. Other than that, I don’t know. What else do you do with your life?”
“Well, I have one creative outlet,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked curiously.
“I play the saxophone.” He felt her start in surprise.
“Oh, I like that,” she said. “Jazz, by any chance?”
Her voice held such a hopeful tone that he had to smile. “Yes, preferably. I play at a local club whenever I get a chance to.”
“Wow,” she said, “I really, really love jazz.”
Of course she did. He just knew it. And he knew something else. “And I bet you love sushi too, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “Why? Don’t you?”
“It’s probably my favorite,” he said with a sigh.
“So why is that bad news?” she asked suspiciously.
He shook his head and kept plowing over the ground, with her hardly even a noticeable weight on his back. His training had been so extreme that he was used to carrying hundreds of pounds of weight for miles.
But she wouldn’t let the question go. “Why is it bad if we like the same things?” she asked, direct and to the point.
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“No,” she said, “I don’t. I’d like to know something, so I ask.”
“What if I ask you something I want to know?” he asked.
“Fire away,” she said.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Even he winced at that. It wasn’t what he meant to ask at all.
She leaned forward against his ear and whispered, “No. Do you have a girlfriend?”
He shook his head, almost banging into hers. She chuckled as she reached over, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “Good. We got that out of the way.”
He groaned. “There’s nothing to get out of the way.”
“That’s because we’re keeping it all,” she said expansively. “You’re my kind of person.”
“I can’t be,” he said. “I’m only in town part-time. Like most days of my life. Really, I live a dangerous lifestyle. You’d hate that.”
“But I’d understand it,” she said calmly. “You can’t stop the passion inside a person. At some point, this will not work for you any longer, and you’ll look into doing something else. But, for the next while, probably at least ten years, this is where your heart is. Anybody who tries to curtail that is a fool.”
He almost wanted to stop and pull her around so he could look in her face, but he didn’t dare. They were still moving through the bush at a steady rate. He knew the truck was only about ten minutes ahead, but her words shook him up—exactly as she’d said was what had been wrong with all his relationships up until now. Those women hadn’t wanted any part of his work. They’d all been attracted to the man-in-uniform thing and that whole service-for-the-country thing, but, when they realized that he would be gone for long stretches at a time, that there was danger involved in his work, that they would have to sit back and wait for him to return, they’d all packed it in.
“And you think you could handle that, huh?”
“Of course.”
“And what about all the times I’d be gone? Don’t you think you’d be lonely, wasting away, or would you look for other means of entertainment?” he asked, his tone turning caustic because, of course, that had happened a time or two as well.
“You really were in the wrong relationships, weren’t you? Besides, remember that part about a half-dozen dogs?” she said. He shrugged. She laughed at that. “Don’t do that again,” she said, “you’ll dislodge me off your back.”
And he had to laugh at that. “If you were any bigger,” he said, “you’d almost be a fly.”
“What am I now?” she asked in outrage.
“An irritating gnat,” he snapped. And then he laughed and laughed.
Chapter 10
Danica stayed silent until they made it to the truck. She was still trying to figure out what was going on between them. The fact that they were attracted to each other was obvious; she liked him, and he liked her, but an element of frustration was in there. She wondered if his history was rearing its ugly head or was it just the circumstances. That was a big one for her. Meeting a guy in this situation sucked. She had to wonder if they could enjoy dull everyday moments together.
But, at the same time, something was definitely going on between them. She settled in and relaxed, feeling safe and secure for the first time in her life, even though her circumstances were beyond stupid. She couldn’t even imagine how fate had brought the two of them together. Now what she had to do was figure out how to make sure fate didn’t tear them apart just as fast. “I’m not giving up, you know.”
“Giving up what?” he asked suspiciously.
When she bounced on his back, she waited until the rough ground straightened a little before she responded. Then she said, “Trying to see you later.”
She caught the startled sound that escaped his lips. “I don’t have a problem seeing you later,” he said. “Given circumstances work out though.”
“Meaning?” she asked suspiciously.
“Meaning,” he said, “that I think we live in different states.”
She waved a hand. “Details, details.” That got a laugh from him. Just then she saw Asher slowing down up ahead. She leaned closer and whispered, “Is that the truck?”
“It’s something.”
Asher motioned for the women to collapse flat on the ground, and he hid behind a tree. Beau immediately stepped up into a series of brushes and waited. In his ear, Asher said something, and she leaned forward so she could hear it too.
“Two vehicles coming,” Asher whispered.
“Shit,” Beau said. “Ours or theirs?”
“Too early to tell,” he said. “They’re driving slowly.”
“So maybe ours?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s wait and see.”
The trucks trundled on by, both small panel vans.
“I don’t like the looks of those,” Asher said. “And they’re driving too slow. I’m afraid they might be full of new cargo.”
“Shit,” she whispered. “I never even thought of that.”
“What?” Beau asked. “That new women might be arriving?”
“Yeah. I mean, if they’re shipping out something, does that mean they’re also bringing in new ones? Why don’t we stop them?” she asked.
Then Asher crossed the road with the women, and he showed them where the truck was hidden. A lot of junked vehicles were here, as if an impromptu junkyard. With the women safely stashed in the truck, Beau looked at her and said, “I’m going back to check on those rigs.”
She frowned up at him.
He shook his head. “If you can’t handle this …” And he turned and began to run.
She shouted. “That’s chickenshit.”
He laughed, but he bolted.
She could see the speed at which he disappeared and realized he was trying to reach the compound before those two trucks got there. Surely he wouldn’t make it, but, if he did, maybe he would see what was happening. When she look
ed around, she found Asher long gone too.
With three women piled into the back of the truck bed, and two of them curled up in the front of the cab, Danica looked at them and whispered, “Anybody here badly hurt?”
“Just my leg,” the one woman said. “My name is Barbara. What’s yours?”
“I’m Danica,” she said. “I was late one morning for my college class, and I was racing across campus, heading up a path, when somebody asked me for directions. I stopped to talk to him, and a hood was thrown over my head, and I was picked up. Next thing I knew, I found myself here in Alaska.”
Several women cried out at that news.
Barbara said, “I came from California, and I was heading toward the mall for work. Same idea.”
“Yeah, but there are no similarities between us physically,” Danica said in wonder. “Are the kidnappers just selective, or are they getting orders?”
One of the other women looked at her and said, “Orders?”
“We’re being sold,” Danica said. “It just occurred to me that we’re all so different. Did it not matter to the kidnappers? Was it just an opportunity they took advantage of—a lone woman someplace—or was it all about the fact that a client wanted somebody petite and blonde, like me, and another client wanted somebody tall and slim and dark, like you?”
The women sat in quiet contemplation as they worked out how different each of their cases were, and yet, how similar. “I think it’s terrible, whatever it is,” the third woman in the truck bed said. “I just want to go home to my parents.”
Danica looked at her and realized that she couldn’t be more than twenty or twenty-one, likely the youngest of them here.
“Now that we have these two guys helping us,” Danica said, “I’m sure we’re much better off.”
“I want to take the truck and head into town,” Barbara said. “There’s no reason to stay here.”
“I’m not deserting the men who helped me escape,” Danica said.
“You can stay here then,” Barbara said. “There’s gas in the tank. It’s wheels, and we’ve got the keys. There’s absolutely no good reason for us to stay here. Besides, my leg needs medical attention,” she said.
“Not even for the man who just carried you here? This is his truck.”
“Not even for him.”
Danica realized with alarm that the woman was serious. The others were nodding too. Now that they were all free, they wanted to get the hell as far away as they could. It didn’t matter to them who they’d leave behind. Danica had no way to contact the men but knew that the last thing they would expect is for the women they had just rescued to take off with their vehicle. It was their way to get out of here too.
Although she suspected the men would both be just fine, even if the women left, it wasn’t the way Danica operated. She was a fair player at all times, and no way would she deal the men who had rescued her such a low blow as to leave them stranded.
She shook her head. “I can’t stop you,” she said. “There are way too many of you, but no way in hell am I leaving those two men. And you need to leave their gear and anything else in there or be up for even more charges.”
The women just stared at her then suddenly the vehicle was emptied in a rush and she suddenly found herself surrounded by gear.
“You don’t have to come,” Barbara said. “But, if you get in my way, and you don’t think I’ll deck you, you’re wrong.” With that, she got up and went to the driver’s side, hopping into the truck and moving one of the women over.
Danica looked at the other women. “Is this how you operate?”
“We want to get somewhere safe,” the nearest woman said. “We just want to get back to safety.”
“By leaving the men who rescued you to deal with whatever nightmare is still here?”
“The authorities are coming. You know that. People will help rescue them.”
But Danica couldn’t reconcile that. She collected the bits of gear and stashed them to the one side then she turned, left the truck and the women, and walked back to the compound. She would put her faith in Beau and Asher any day, and she wouldn’t be somebody who two-timed them or somebody who deserted them.
As she crossed the road, the truck roared to life and gunned past her, heading toward Anchorage. At least she thought it was Anchorage. She knew it was the opposite direction of the compound where they’d been kept.
And now she was the one in trouble.
She swore. “What a stupid idiot.”
She had no way to tell Beau what had just happened and no way to warn them. For all she knew, that truck held gear and equipment that the men needed. She still had the handgun she’d taken earlier, but that’s all she had. She stared down at it, wishing she’d at least grabbed some shoes, if available. Should she stay where the truck was? She walked back to where it had been parked, but she had no way to even leave a note. Or was there? In the soft ground underneath where the truck had been was a patch of dirt. She picked up a stick and wrote in the dirt, “B and A, I’m still here. D. The others left.”
Then she headed toward the compound.
She didn’t know that she should be there, but sitting here and waiting seemed useless too. Just those two men were against that entire place, and that would never work for her. At the same time, her bare feet were now trashed, and that was also a problem. As she walked, looking at some of the discarded vehicles here, she found an old rag in one. She quickly ripped it in half, wrapped it around her feet and tied it on. It wouldn’t necessarily be enough to hold back all the pain, but, as she took a few experimental steps, it was a whole lot better than nothing. She found a towel to go with it, and, keeping that in her hands—to wipe her bloody feet later, to maybe replace the rag altogether—she headed back, following the same tracks that had led them away. No way their departure didn’t leave multiple tracks to follow, considering so many of them had moved through the bush, even with Beau and Asher each carrying one of the women.
Beau had gone a different direction, but, if she followed this trail straight back, she’d end up at the compound. Determinedly, she put one foot in front of the other. She smiled when she realized the pain was so much less and picked up the pace, flat-out running. She’d been a sprinter when she was younger and was quite prepared to try it again, even under these conditions.
As soon as the coolness eased, it would grow warmer and the sunlight would be visible. And that meant that their window of opportunity would be that much smaller. And, if she ended up in really bad trouble, well, she could find her way back to this road again. She’d follow it all the way to wherever the hell it ended up.
Of course she knew that official vehicles were coming, maybe in an hour or an hour and fifteen minutes, but there was no way to be sure, and she didn’t want to leave the men without anybody to back them up. Breathing heavily, she picked up the pace and ran toward the same spot in the fence where they had been originally.
When she reached the wire, she backed up a bit and followed it around to the main entrance to the compound. As soon as she saw the same two trucks they had seen driving on the road, now parked outside the gate, and two strange men talking there, she realized that Beau and Asher had either been taken or were still hiding somewhere. There was absolutely no reason for those newcomers to be standing there at the gate. She also saw six men on the other side, unlocking the gate to let them in, and that was not good. Now Beau and Asher had eight more men to take care of.
One of the men suddenly lifted his rifle and turned sharply, pointing it at the far side, as if he’d heard something. She watched as Asher flattened to the ground. She swore, lifted her handgun as the man lined up a shot, and, when he was about to fire, she popped him in the head.
And down he went.
Beau spun at the shot, seeing one kidnapper go down. Beau hadn’t had a chance to pull his trigger, and he couldn’t believe his eyes because there, flat against a tree, was Danica. He quickly left his post, raced toward her, and dragge
d her with him deeper into the bush.
As soon as he thought they had a second, he whispered in a harsh voice, “What do you think you’re doing? You were safe with the truck.”
She shoved her face in his and said, “You’re welcome. Or at least Asher is.”
He shook his head. “But now they know we’re here.”
“I couldn’t let them kill Asher,” she said. “I don’t give a damn if they do know we’re here.”
“True,” he said. He hugged her tight and said, “My heart damn-near stopped when I saw you standing there. You didn’t even have enough sense to drop.”
“Well, good,” she said, “then they’ll just assume it’s me, a stupid girl who escaped.”
He had to consider that possibility and realized that she was quite possibly right. “We still have to take out the rest of the men,” he said. “I’m pretty sure more women are in those trucks.”
That’s one of the reasons I came back.”
“What?” He pushed her back slightly and glared down at her.
She frowned up at him. “The women—they decided they would take the truck and leave you two alone.”
Astonished, he could only stare at her.
She shrugged. “I told you. Women can be mean. They were only thinking about themselves.”
“Well, I can hardly blame them for putting as many miles between them and here as they could,” he said slowly. “But I never thought they would do that. We should have though.”
She shrugged. “You guys saved my life. I couldn’t exactly turn around and desert you.”
He grinned, leaned down, kissed her, and said, “Thank you.” Then he shoved her behind him, his hand whipping up. He took one shot. She twisted around to see a man crumpling to his knees and then down.
“Right. I started this, didn’t I?”
But Beau had already picked her up and held her under his arm, and he raced in the opposite direction from where the gunman had stood. Shots were fired, but nothing came close. She tried to look around, but she was bounced and jostled like he’d picked up a carcass.
When he finally put her on her feet, she gasped and said, “The next time you do that, I’ll hurt you.”
