Both guns now in her hands, she spun, arms wide to point one weapon at Pete and the other at the bald man on the ground. Pete glared at her from the floor, his hand covering his jaw, as if considering whether to take her down himself or not. She needed to know if he was hiding a weapon. He wasn’t wearing bulky winter clothing like Shawn and her, but she needed to be sure. She pointed the gun at him. “Hands up, Pete.”
“I’m an innocent victim here,” he said. “Just ask Shawn. Hand me the other gun. I’ll help.” She swiveled her attention to Shawn, but he seemed to be having a cramp of some sort. He was sitting up, bent over, groaning—
He lifted his head, and in a gap between his open coat, she saw blood seeping through his shirt from a circle on the left side of his chest. She gasped and ran for him. “No!” She lifted the back of his coat. Nothing. The bullet was still inside him and could have ricocheted to other organs.
She dropped the hem, her heart rate racing. She still had to keep an eye on the gunman, who was sitting up, and Pete, whom she didn’t trust despite his claims of innocence. After all her years of interviews, she could tell when a story was being fabricated. His details and timeline didn’t add up.
And there was a boss. The bald man had mentioned one on the radio when they were stuck on that ledge. Besides, Pete had slipped in his story and had said “we found” before he’d got to the hostage bit. More than that, her gut told her he wasn’t to be trusted.
She took a knee in front of Shawn. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. It’s my fault.”
He didn’t answer. He moved his left hand up to cover the wound. Of course, he had first-aid training. He’d know what to do, but he might not be thinking straight. She pressed her two fingers against his neck. He flinched. “Cold,” he muttered.
Yes, and they’d lost a lot of the sensitivity to touch. She wasn’t ready to think about frostbite yet, but mercifully, she felt the warm pumping under his chin. Too rapid. That was to be expected, but the bullet had entered his chest. Even if it didn’t hit the heart directly, the pathway would open up a large destructive tunnel in the cavity and could have injured tissue dangerously close to the organ.
“Jackie,” he croaked. “Handcuffs.”
She stared at him a second before understanding what he was talking about. She handed him the second gun. He propped his right arm up with his knee so it was pointed at the man thirty feet away. She found the pouch on Shawn’s holster that held his cuffs. “Good idea. Keep pressure on your wound. We’re going to get out of here, Shawn. You just have to hold on a little longer.”
She turned and pointed at Pete. “Hands up.”
He balked. “You have to be kidding. You’re tying me up? Shawn, tell her.”
“He doesn’t need to tell me. I’ve got his back,” she said. “And right now that means if you’re innocent, then we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“You basically shot him.”
She tried not to cringe. “Yeah, well, Shawn already knows I make mistakes.”
Shawn coughed. Or maybe it was a laugh. She couldn’t afford to look yet.
“And you still want to handcuff me? How about taking care of the actual criminals first?”
“Stop talking, Pete,” she said.
Once he had his hands on the back of his head, she twisted each wrist until she’d placed them in handcuffs, careful to watch for any signs he would put up a fight. She wasn’t as smooth as she’d like, but at least she knew the basics after taking a citizen’s police academy class a few years ago.
The gunman, roughly twenty feet away, pushed himself from sitting to standing, pulling out the Taser darts still attached to his chest. She pointed her weapon at him. “If I were you, I’d sit back down on your knees. I’m an even better aim with a real gun.”
He sneered but did as she asked. Jackie removed the rappelling rope and used it to tie Pete’s wrists together, just above the handcuffs.
“Isn’t that a bit over the top?” Shawn asked. His question came out as a groan. “You don’t know for sure he isn’t a hostage.”
“You don’t have to talk if it hurts,” she said. “Do you have more than one pair of handcuffs?”
“No, but knots...”
“Are my specialty.” She attempted to smile. “That’s what you were going to say, right? Because I may not be my dad, but if I’m going to embrace what I’m good at, then one of those skills would be knots.” She pulled the rope tight to check her work and used the small key to take off the handcuffs.
She moved to approach the bald man and fought to project a brave face. The way he’d murdered that man so callously with the injection wasn’t something she could forget. She glanced at Shawn before she got very close. He gave her an encouraging nod as he aimed his gun at the man, although his knee was the only reason the gun was propped up at all. She did the same routine, first with the handcuffs, but with him she kept one foot resting on the back of his knee, ready to step there forcefully if he tried anything. As soon as he was handcuffed, she pressed the gun in his back and grabbed the satellite phone from his pocket. She was surprised to find a pair of keys there, maybe belonging to his ATV? She stuffed both in her own back pocket.
Then, using the end of the singular rope she’d tied Pete with, she tied the men to each other, with a ten-foot gap between them. That way it wouldn’t be as easy for one to run away. Now, if she could just get to the entrance of the cave and call for help.
Shawn moaned slightly, closing his eyes briefly. She took his gun from him so he could use both hands to put pressure on his wound. The stomping of feet ahead meant visitors would be joining them. A gun in each hand, she shook with adrenaline and pushed back the intense nausea that came with extreme levels of exhaustion. She pointed one gun at Pete and the bald man and the other toward the entrance of the cave. The men called Carl and Spencer rounded the corner. Spencer pulled a gun in less than a second, aimed directly at her. Carl moved to grab his weapon.
“Don’t you dare,” she said, and Carl froze, his hand hovering six inches from his weapon.
“Please don’t shoot,” Pete said again. “I’ll do what you want. It’s this crazy lady.”
Spencer’s eyes flickered in between Pete and the other man, indecision in his gaze. And for the briefest of moments, Jackie questioned if maybe she’d interpreted Pete’s testimony poorly and been wrong. “Drop your weapon,” she said.
Spencer shrugged. “Maybe I’m done with the whole lot of them.”
“Drop it or the statue gets it,” Shawn said behind her.
Jackie took a step closer to the wall so her peripheral vision could spot Shawn while still keeping an eye on the gunmen. Shawn held the top of the statue’s head. Dirt clumps were still stuck to the bottom half, and the stonework dangled precariously over a very pointy boulder.
Pete’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You could’ve damaged it, pulling it out of the dirt like that. Put it down, carefully!”
“You said it’s worth at least half a million dollars, right?” Jackie asked Pete.
The man tied to Pete rolled his eyes. “Give it up. You’re not fooling anyone. They know you’re with us. Carl and Spencer, how about untying me, shooting the whole lot of these folks and cutting our losses? We have more than enough to get a couple million for the archive of the loot.”
Pete’s face blanched. “The seller will only work with me.”
“Guess it’s time to find a new seller,” the gunman said dryly.
“If I don’t check in with my contact every night, your names and photos are going straight to the FBI. I’m not stupid. This was a foolproof plan.” Pete twisted to Shawn. “You know me, Shawn. I’m meticulous, a visionary. I’ve got profit margin to cut you in on the deal.”
If Carl’s and Spencer’s expressions provided any indicator, these men weren’t on board with splitting their profits with anyone else.
/> “That’s a problem,” Jackie interjected before the men fought any more. “Because to answer your earlier question, Pete, there is a lot of backup on the way. That’s the reason you wanted us to believe you were a hostage, right? To find out if there was any real threat on the way? Loads. Plus, I’m still holding two guns and I’m a great shot.” She looked at Spencer. “You two drop your weapons and I’ll let you go. You still have ATVs outside, right?”
As if in answer, the lights flickered. Once, twice, then darkness draped them all.
FOURTEEN
Shawn fought to keep his balance, but without his vision to help, he wobbled. He struggled to stop his right hand from letting go of the statue.
“She’s behind me now. Don’t shoot,” Pete yelled.
Shawn stumbled forward, tripping over stoneware of some sort—hopefully a sturdy pot.
“No!” Pete growled. “If you dropped that statue, I’ll kill you myself.”
Shawn had no choice but to let go of his wound and grab the statue with both hands, gently dropping it to the dirt. He didn’t care what Pete said. He cared about preserving a people’s history, one that didn’t belong to the archaeologist to sell to the highest bidder. Saving Jackie’s life was a higher priority, though, so he didn’t stop to feel around and see if he’d succeeded in keeping it in one piece.
“I still have a gun,” Jackie said. “Be quiet.” A second later a light illuminated her face.
The bald gunman, however, had already made his move, his leg up, his foot kicking out toward her. Shawn’s fist moved on instinct, plummeting into the man’s stomach. The action broke his trajectory and the man folded up, stumbling backward, the rope taking Pete with him. They fell into a mass heap. Jackie took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She thrust the weak light from her phone to the entrance of the cave. “The other two are gone.”
“Looks like they took your idea and decided to cut their losses.”
She reached up and pressed on his coat. He flinched from the pain of the pressure. “Your wound.”
“Jackie, we have to get somewhere safe before I can focus too much on that. Preferably the sooner the better.” He almost told her about his fight against falling and passing out, but he didn’t want the men to know he lacked strength.
“Well, we also need to give you the best shot.” She cringed. “I didn’t mean that pun. I meant the best chance at healing properly, which means you have to keep pressure on that.” Shawn grabbed her hand. The pain was making him see stars in his peripheral vision.
The bald man struggled back to his feet, a challenge with his hands tied behind his back. Shawn dropped her hand and took his gun back. “The generator probably went out. If he was right and the blizzard has set in, the air intake can suck in snow and malfunction.”
“Back to the original plan?”
He nodded. “The control room generator will be designed for the elements, and will have running water, central heat and insulated walls if we have to wait out the blizzard. Except, what about them?”
“We take them with us?” Jackie pulled her hair back, twisting it and tying it into a knotted bun.
Shawn hated the idea of escorting the men, but they also couldn’t leave them behind. There was shelter, sure, but nothing sturdy enough to tie them to while they waited for help. For all he knew, they had other weapons hidden on the property. “I don’t have any better ideas. We’ll need to watch for those ATVs, though, in case they’re just regrouping.”
Jackie cautiously stepped on one end of the rope and slid it with her foot until she was far enough away to stoop and pick it up. “Ever heard of Wolfe Dutton?”
Pete’s and the man’s eyes flickered in recognition.
“Well, I don’t like to brag, but he’s my father, and he taught me everything he knows. A blizzard isn’t going to stop me from shooting straight. So tread carefully. Walk in front of me. Now.”
She held the phone with one hand, flashlight on. Shawn could see from the screen pointed his direction that the battery had only 7 percent left. He could also tell from the men’s expressions that they didn’t consider Jackie a threat no matter what she said.
“You heard her. Move,” Shawn barked. He took the opportunity to stay one step in front of her, though. If they did try to pull anything, he wanted to be the one to take the brunt of it.
They stepped outside and the wind took his breath away. His muscles tightened involuntarily and the pain surrounding his wound almost made him cry out. Instead, he grunted. “Move faster. Get past the bushes.”
The wind had created drifts three feet high in portions surrounding them. The majority of light from the moon and stars was dimmed by the thick clouds dumping flakes the size of quarters. Getting across a couple of acres with these men in tow would be next to impossible, especially if they decided to fight.
Jackie held up the satellite phone. “I’m not getting any signal yet.” She hollered over the wind.
“Works better when you can see the sky. With a cloud cover this thick, it might take a few tries, but we’ll get through eventually.” He was certain of it.
She handed him the phone. “Okay, you keep trying. You know how to work these better.”
They trudged on; the men in front of them seemed to be stalling. Granted, stomping through snow with their hands behind their backs probably wasn’t easy. Paths left behind by the ATVs could be seen in the snow. But only ten feet away, the trailer the ATVs had been hauling earlier that day had been left behind. They likely didn’t want to fight the drag a trailer created in the winds if their goal was to get away.
A sharp pain hit his stomach and his feet flew out from under him. The half a second of looking at the trailer had proved detrimental. The men had used the ropes in between them to take him down. A bullet split the howling wind once, then twice, and the world spun.
* * *
Jackie spread her feet wide and watched the men turn to her in shock. She’d fired close enough to the side of each man’s face to cause them serious, but hopefully temporary, ringing in their ears. She may not enjoy practicing survival skills in the wilderness, but she still enjoyed frequent visits to an indoor shooting range.
She’d definitely succeeded with Pete, as he howled and pressed his ear against his raised shoulder.
“Get in the trailer.” She had to yell to be heard over the wind. She needed them out of the way to make sure Shawn was okay. Despite her blood burning hot that they’d hurt him, the freezing temps seemed to suck all oxygen out of her lungs each time she opened her mouth, and it was a fight to refill them. And her nose stung so bad from the cold she felt certain full recovery wasn’t going to be possible. She’d permanently be able to play the part of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer every Christmas without makeup.
“I’m not getting in a trailer.” The bald man curled his lips in a level of disgust and contempt that almost made her shiver. She could practically hear his mind thinking of ways to kill her.
“That was your warning shot. Next time I won’t waste bullets.” She dragged open the trailer door and gestured inside. Shawn still wasn’t moving from the ground, and it was killing her not to run to him.
Pete staggered forward, and though it took them minutes longer than it should’ve, the two men begrudgingly stepped into the roughly six-foot-by-nine-foot space.
“Step all the way to the back,” she yelled through the wind. The moment they did, she threw the rope inside with them and moved to close the swinging door, except she needed both hands. She tried slamming it against the wind, but it was a slow process. A second before it was fully closed, she felt movement, and the trailer shifted. The men were running at the door. Her fingers shook, fighting to get the long pin into the lock. If she didn’t succeed and the impact of their bodies against the door threw her to the ground, they might overtake her.
<
br /> The tip of the pin got into the hole just before initial impact, enough to keep the door from opening, but the hit moved the lock mechanism and the pin slid right back out. She pushed her entire shoulder against the door as two hands joined her efforts.
“Hurry.” Shawn’s face looked ashen, but he pressed with all his might as she fully slid the long pin into the lock. The door vibrated again. They’d taken another pass, but now they could bruise their shoulders all they wanted, ramming into the door, without going anywhere.
“Are you okay?” She reached for him and he draped his right arm around her shoulders and leaned slightly onto her.
“I think I fainted. Can’t say it won’t happen again.”
“Keep pressure on the wound.” She swung around, frantic to find any signs of the ATV the gunman would’ve been driving. The gust carried the loose snow into a whiteout in front of her. The clouds shifted ever so slightly and the moon reflected off metal in the bushes, twenty or thirty feet ahead. “Stay there.”
“We might lose each other,” he called. He grabbed her hand. “I’m okay with losing the men who tried to kill us. I’m not okay with losing you.”
The way he looked in her eyes brought her more warmth than physically possible in the conditions. “Okay.” She didn’t want to argue. But she also feared he wasn’t going to last much longer on his feet before he fainted again or worse. “Only if you lean on me. And try calling with the phone again.”
He agreed with a nod. He held up the phone to his ear. “Ranger Shawn Burkett requesting emergency assistance,” he shouted over the wind. He groaned and dropped the phone. “Only lasted a few seconds before it cut off.” He looked up and the thick cloud cover had returned. “Our best chance is the landline in the control building.”
“Then let’s get there.” She took his right hand and matched his stride. Her left foot had to move with his right foot to enable them to step in sync. They needed the momentum to step through some of the deeper snow. Finally they reached the ATV.
Wilderness Sabotage Page 15
