by April Hunt
Her captor jerked her head back, ripping hair from her head in the process. “I would mind your mouth if I were you, because in case you couldn’t tell, you’re not in a position to get snippy.”
The door opened.
“Babe, take a walk,” a low, familiar voice suggested. Blue Eyes.
“I’m fine. The nice doctor and I are setting a few things straight.”
“Take. A walk. Now.” He didn’t raise his voice, but it was definitely an order.
The woman obeyed, but not without another sharp yank before releasing her hold. “Behave, bitch.”
This time, Isa sucked down a whimper as pain sliced along her scalp. That one definitely cost her a few clumps of hair.
Blue Eyes waited until they were alone before dragging a chair from the corner and setting it three feet away. He sat casually, one leg crossed over the other.
Like their meeting in the cabin, he didn’t bother hiding his face and this time Isa could see him better. Blond hair, cut in a short buzz close to his head, revealed a palm-sized birthmark just over his ear, and his tank top showcased well-defined arms and what looked to be a tattoo on his left shoulder.
“Sorry about…Connie,” Blue Eyes apologized. “She sometimes gets a little excitable.”
Isa snorted. “Just the kind of person you want to call babe…or let near a deadly virus.”
A crooked smile slithered onto his face. “In a different world, Isabel, I could see us becoming friends.”
“I don’t think so. I have a general rule about not befriending homicidal maniacs who treat human lives as if they’re disposable trash.”
“You would see it that way, wouldn’t you?”
“How else would I see it? I mean, you did intentionally poison Beaver Ridge’s food supply, didn’t you?”
“Figured that already? Wow. Beautiful and smart. No wonder you’re so popular.”
“What do you get out of this?” Isa thought about little Abby and her mother, and about their grandmother, who worried each day that that day was the one she would lose her entire family. “And how the hell do you sleep at night knowing you dished out a death sentence to an entire town? You’ve condemned innocent men, women, and children…and why?”
Tears threatened to fall, but Isa held them at bay, focusing on her anger. She couldn’t fathom this man’s lack of remorse.
“Actually, I sleep quite well with a feather pillow.”
“You shouldn’t be. It won’t be long before my friends realize I’m gone. They’ll come…and there won’t be anywhere for you to hide. Even here in Alaska.”
“Honey, I’m counting on your little boy toy forming a cute little search party.” Blue Eyes smiled. “I’ll try not to take offense, since we don’t know each other very well yet, but one thing you should know about me is that I’m a man of action. I do. I plan, and then I execute. This sitting around and waiting shit isn’t me. I guess you could say I get bored easily, which is why I’m not averse to livening things up a bit.”
The door opened, and Blue Eyes’ attention slid over Isa’s shoulder. “What now?”
“Phone call.”
“I’m busy.”
“Told him that, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s not happy…in the least.”
“Like I fucking give a damn, but fine.” He got to his feet and whispered in Isa’s ear. “We’ll finish up our little girl talk when I get back. Don’t go anywhere now, you hear?”
Isa’s jaw ached from keeping her mouth clamped shut as Blue Eyes stalked from the room. On the other side, she recognized Connie’s murmured voice.
“Can we fucking get rid of her already?” Connie asked. “It’s not like we need her around. Let’s put a bullet between her eyes and dump her in a fucking bear cave or something.”
“That’s not the plan,” Blue Eyes answered.
“Plans fucking change, Mace. We’re the ones with all the fucking power right now. Start acting like it.”
Something crashed against the wall, rattling the windows.
“Let’s get one thing straight right now.” Blue Eyes’ threat was nearly inaudible through the door. “I’m the one with the fucking power. No one lifts a finger or twitches their fucking nose until I give the go-ahead. Do I make myself clear?”
Isa couldn’t hear Connie’s response, but Blue Eyes—Mace—must have been satisfied enough by it. The wall shook again and footsteps faded down what sounded like a long hall before disappearing completely.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Isa whispered to herself.
With renewed fervor, and ignoring the blood dripping down her wrists and hand, she tugged on her restraints. It hurt like hell, but the slickness created a small bit of give and made her all the more determined to not be tied up when Blue Eyes—or Connie—came back into the room.
* * *
Roman squared his shoulders and faced off against his brother. Ryder hadn’t said anything that he didn’t know or wouldn’t have pulled himself if the situation were reversed. No one liked being the one left behind, but there wasn’t another choice.
“You realize we’re in Alaska, right?” Ryder glared from across the map they’d been studying for the better of the last two hours. “There’s at least four of them—probably more, because there’s always a few hiding in the background. And you’re three people…one who’s—”
“If you say a woman, I will kick your scrotum so hard it flies up and tickles your tonsils.” Jaz looked prepped to follow through on her threat in the blink of an eye.
Ryder subtly shifted his pants and grimaced. “I was about to say one whose head may not be completely in the game, but good to know.”
“My head’s in the game,” Roman disagreed. “Hell, my whole damn body is in this.”
“Then you really think splitting up is the way to go? We need more hands on deck, not less. Transporting the samples can wait until we get Isa back.”
Roman shook his head. “If we wait, Jaz’s threat to your scrotum will be nothing compared to what Doc will do to us if she finds out we didn’t get those samples to where they needed to go. Tony confirmed that the GHO will be here by daybreak. Now you need to escort him back to DC and get him to Tru Tech.”
As much as it killed Roman to send the extra help away, it was what needed to happen. That little girl, Abby, could very well be the first—and potentially only—person to ever survive an FC-5 exposure. If shit really hit the fan, what those blood samples could tell everyone could be a matter of life and death.
Literally.
“Fine,” Ryder gritted out. “But how are you planning on dealing with the fact that there’s three of you and countless square miles of Alaskan wilderness?”
That was the question of the damn hour.
A knock on the door prevented Roman from answering that question.
Tony stood on the porch. “Can you guys come out for a second?”
Roman exchanged looks with King before following the older man outside to where a dozen or more Beaver Ridge residents stood, bundled up, in the quickly dropping temperatures.
An older woman stepped forward. He recognized her as the little girl’s grandmother.
“Is everything okay?” Roman asked, immediately concerned. “Abby?”
“She’s improved even more.” She glanced around to her friends and neighbors. “We’re actually here about Dr. Santiago. We want to help.”
“I appreciate it, but—”
“Help how?” King cut in. He shrugged off Roman’s glare, his eyes fastened on the locals.
A group of about eight people, varying in age from twenty-something to mid-fifties, stepped up, but it was the oldest of the group who spoke up. “We were all born and raised next to this mountain. There isn’t a bear we can’t track or a rock we won’t recognize. If they have Dr. Santiago out there somewhere, we’ll be able to find her. Like Edith said, she risked a lot in coming here to help us. Helping her now is the least we can do.”
Jaz’s, King’s,
and Ryder’s gazes fell on Roman like a damn anvil.
He wanted to find Isa more than his next breath, but…
“The men we’re after aren’t friendly neighborhood type of people,” Roman warned. “If you do this, I can’t guarantee that there won’t be casualties.”
The men and two women glanced around at each other before murmuring to their spokesman. He nodded and turned back. “It’s a risk we’re willing to take. If something happens to Dr. Santiago, we’re dead anyway…including our families.”
Roman couldn’t fault them on that logic in the least. It was painfully close to what he’d told her before, but her abilities to kick FC-5’s ass wasn’t what made Roman want to storm into the Alaskan wilderness and turn over every damn rock that he found until he located the bastards that took her.
“Then your help’s greatly appreciated.” Roman nodded in agreement. “But you and your people help track, steer my team in the right direction, and then you fall back. No questions and no hesitation. I know you say you’re willing to put it all on the line, but I’m not. Your families need you, too.”
“It’s a deal.”
Two hours later, with Ryder and Tony headed back to DC, Roman counted himself damn lucky to have the people of Beaver Ridge. They knew these woods better than the back of their hands. Using maps, they’d pinpointed the three most likely areas where people could get in and out relatively easily but unseen.
They’d come up empty with the first two, and as they approached the third, Roman’s skin itched. Wind howled through the trees, masking their twelve-person team. According to Bruce, the leader of the Beaver Ridge residents, this had to be where they were holed up with Isabel.
Roman signaled for everyone to wait…which went against everything his body was telling him.
“Breathe, man.” King’s hand dropped on his shoulder as if reading his mind…and he probably was. After countless missions and their assignment in Burundi, they’d quickly developed their own silent language.
“You know it’s killing me to wait, right?” Roman murmured.
“It’s not like you’re sitting on your ass, Ro. Let Jaz do her eagle eye thing, and I promise you, if Dr. Sexy is down there, we’ll get her back.”
“I know we will.” Because he wouldn’t accept anything else.
On cue, Roman’s ear mic crackled.
“Eagle eyes here, you read?” Jaz’s voice came through the comms.
“I read. What do you see?”
“The nest full of fucking vultures.”
They’d found them. They’d found Isabel.
“I count three on patrol,” Jaz said. “One on perimeter, and two on the north and south exit points. It’s not exactly Fort Knox. Hell, I’m surprised the building hasn’t collapsed in this wind.”
King grunted. “So we have three outside, one probably inside with Isa, and then the brain of the operation, because we know his ass isn’t walking perimeter lines in this fucking cold. That’s five men at least. Five men, three of us…unless…”
“No, the locals stay out of it. They already have enough on the line.”
Jaz grunted her agreement through their comms. “I could take two of them out right now. I have a pretty solid line of sight.”
“Not with this wind working against you. One slipup and they’ll know we’re coming.”
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just question my abilities, but yeah. You’re right.”
Roman ran through the possible scenarios in his head and was on the last one when a shot rang out, echoing loudly through the trees. Everyone ducked, and Roman cursed. A second was quickly followed by a third.
“Jaz!”
“Wasn’t me! Fuck! There’s another vulture…in the sky and about twenty yards from your six!”
A split second later, the ground inches away from Roman’s feet exploded as a bullet dug into the earth. “Jaz!”
“On it…give me one…little…second…”
Another shot ripped through the air, and this time it came with a low groan off to their left.
“Got the bastard,” Jaz announced proudly. “Good news is that he won’t be performing any activities involving hands anytime soon, but the bad news is that there’s no way his friends didn’t hear our little tiff.”
Roman signaled to Bruce and his group. “Fall back! Fall back and retreat! King.”
“On your six, buddy.”
King and Roman hustled to Jaz’s location just as she dropped down from her perch in the tall pine. The Marine sniper didn’t usually wear a smile on her face unless she was being a pain in Tank’s ass, but her current frown didn’t give Roman the warm fuzzies.
“What wrong?” Roman demanded.
“I saw Isa…so she’s definitely in there. I think she heard the commotion and somehow managed to rip the cover off the far back window.”
Roman’s heart slowly lifted to his throat. “And…?”
She handed him her scope and pointed in the direction of the asshole’s cabin. It took him a second to spot the window she mentioned, and when he zoomed in, it was more than his heart that lifted to his throat.
The cringeworthy taste of bile rose, coating the back of his tongue.
A red handprint.
A bloody handprint…and it had been left there by Isabel.
Chapter
Sixteen
The window had been wishful thinking. As soon as Isa had yanked off the cover, she’d known there was no way in hell she’d fit through. A kindergartener would be hard-pressed to squeeze out of the small space, which meant she needed to find another way.
Her wrists, gouged and bleeding, burned as if doused in gasoline and set on fire, but at least she was free—until someone else came through that door.
She scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon but, other than the chair, came up empty-handed. What self-respecting criminals don’t leave crap lying around these days?
A loud crack froze her feet to the ground.
Was that…?
Two more rattled off, followed by a third. She’d learned enough in the Army to recognize gunfire when she heard it. In an instant, the quiet cabin burst into a flurry of activity and shouts. Footsteps pounded as someone ran across the creaky floorboards, the sound getting louder by the second.
Chair it is. Isa grabbed the wobbly chair and plastered her back along the wall next to the door. As it opened, she counted to three—and swung.
Her female captor cursed and ducked, fending off the worst of her blows with her arm. “And I thought you were a weak little mouse. Consider me wrong.”
“Looks like you were also wrong about how smart you are,” Isa taunted, sidestepping with the hope of sliding closer to the exit.
“Oh, I know how smart I am, honey.”
“Really?” Isa took a page out of Roman’s book and hiked up a single cocky eyebrow. “Do you and your team usually celebrate your smarts by running around cursing? Funny. Your celebration sounds a lot like panicking.”
She stepped again, but this time, her captor countered it.
“You know, Mace didn’t want me playing around with you, but as you pointed out, he’s a little preoccupied right now.” The woman sneered. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, and frankly, that pisses me off. There’s nothing I hate more than wasting my time.”
“Then by all means, step out that door and don’t look back. I sure as hell won’t stop you…but it sounds like my friends will.” Isa pushed a smile onto her face that she hoped looked more confident than she felt. “That’s what all the commotion is about, right? Did my friends find us a little sooner than you were expecting?”
“If I walk out that door right now, hon, you won’t like where I’m going next.” The woman stalked closer, her eyes wild and threatening. “What’s the name of that cute little ranch in Texas where you grew up? Golden Plains? Your sweet old grandfather runs a horse sanctuary, right? I’ve always liked ponies. After dealing with the Alaskan cold
, I could definitely use a change in weather.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Isa growled as she stepped right.
“What? You don’t think Grandpa dearest would be up to helping us win our investors over? I think it’s the least he could do considering his granddaughter fucked up our plans here in Beaver Ridge.”
“You go anywhere near my family and there won’t be a rock big enough for you to crawl under.”
Connie chuckled and stepped left, and before Isa realized it, nearly had her pinned into a corner with nowhere to go. “The doctor’s got some spunk after all, huh? Too bad it’s not going to help you…or anyone else. Thanks to your meddling, we realized that we were thinking too small with Beaver Ridge. We’re moving on…to bigger…and more…populated places. The bigger the punch, the bigger the payout, don’t you think?”
“Lina! We got to get the fuck out of here! Now!” someone shouted seconds before a door crashed open and more shouts ensued.
The woman in front of Isa—Lina—shifted her attention for a split second, but it was all Isa needed. She kicked out, her boot snapping against Lina’s knee.
“You bitch! I’ll make you so fucking sorry you were ever born!” The other woman struck out with a jab.
Isa blocked it—barely—and delivered a hard kick to the torso. “And you’ll be sorry you ever threatened my family.”
With a grunt, Lina stumbled back. As she teetered, she snagged Isa’s bleeding left wrist and dug her nails into the tender flesh.
Isa screamed.
“If you can’t play with the big kids, then get off the playground, sweetheart,” Lina chided.
“Couldn’t say it better myself.” Isa swallowed every ounce of white hot pain, wrapped her fingers around the broken chair leg, and swung like a professional baseball player. The cracked wood thudded against Lina’s head, and she dropped, heavy and unconscious, to the ground.
Cradling her injured hand against to her chest, Isa sunk to her knees just as the door to the room burst open. Roman stood in the entryway, gun drawn and face furiously scanning the area until it fell on an unconscious Lina…and her.
“Doc.” His look of fury was quickly, replaced by something that looked a lot like relief. He called to someone out in the hall as he dropped to the ground in front of her, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt? Talk to me.”
