Code Name: Bundle!
Page 26
She wasn’t happy and she had probably a million questions, but she was gutting it out. Stubborn and proud as always, Wolfe thought.
He wanted to kiss her then. He wanted time to see what they could make of this thing they were both feeling. But he could already hear the faint drone of a chopper coming in fast from the south. There would be no place for farewells outside this room. No place for emotion or regrets.
He touched her hair, just for a second. “I have to go. I wish…” His hand dropped. There was no point in voicing wishes that couldn’t come true.
The drone of big engines grew louder. “That’s my ride. My bag’s already downstairs.”
Something shimmered in Kit’s eyes, and Baby whined, tugging at his leg. Smiling, Wolfe bent down and pulled the three dogs into a wiggling, furry huddle. “You guys remember our offensive plays. And take good care of your boss for me.”
For a moment Kit’s fingers pressed down, tense against his shoulder, and then they were gone.
Her face was pale but calm when he stood up. “Izzy will stick with you a while longer and his team will be close. We’d like you to stay here another twenty-four hours. Just in case.”
She started to ask a question, then stopped, nodding. “Okay.”
“Give these three Einsteins hell.”
She swallowed. “Sure.”
“And talk to Izzy.” Wolfe frowned as lights cut across the horizon. “He has some ideas about…your medical situation.”
Her mouth flattened.
“Look, it’s clear you have some kind of medical problem. Izzy happens to be a walking Merck’s Manual.” Wolfe cupped her chin. “Talk to him. He’s a straight shooter.”
“I’ll…consider it.”
Wolfe nodded, then turned and walked in a straight line to the door without looking back.
But he would never forget that particular blend of cinnamon and mango, or the pale, strained courage he read on her face.
GONE, KIT THOUGHT.
Gone before he had ever really arrived.
No more fantasies.
She rubbed the center of her chest, feeling a hot ache and then the first pangs of emptiness. But she wasn’t going to break down or sob, nothing as pointless as that. Her head was high as she followed him downstairs.
The wind howled and branches struck the roof where a black helicopter hovered low, then set down in the middle of the front yard. Walkie-talkies crackled and men in black uniforms poured out. Kit’s eyes misted as she saw a man jump down, carrying Diesel in his arms.
The big Lab barked twice, his tail banging in the man’s face while Baby and the other two dogs waited anxiously at the front door.
The dogs looked up at Wolfe.
Not at her, Kit thought. How quickly he had won them over.
“You three had better wait here. Your pal will be inside shortly.”
Baby barked once, then looked across at Kit as if for confirmation.
Kit nodded her head. “Stay. Good dogs.”
Wolfe shouldered his backpack and turned. “I won’t say I’m sorry because I’m not. Last night was the best few hours of my life. I’d be glad to know that you felt the same.”
Kit swallowed hard, forcing back her tears. “If you’re looking for praise, you’ve got it. You get tens right across the board.” She managed a bittersweet smile. “Not that anyone’s keeping score.”
He fingered the straps of his pack as if he wanted to be touching something else. “I am. And I won’t be forgetting a single detail.”
Footsteps hammered up the front steps.
A mask fell over his face like a wall of steel locking into place. “I don’t like goodbyes, so I’ll just say good luck.” His lips curved. “Champagne and roses, remember?”
Before Kit could answer, Wolfe’s cell phone rang shrilly. She heard Izzy shout. All hell broke loose outside and the door was jerked open by a man she didn’t know.
“Sir, we have confirmed apprehension. We need to lift off ASAP.”
“He’s been taken?” Wolfe’s voice was low, but Kit heard the words clearly.
“That’s an affirmative, sir. We’ve got him .”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Eastern Arizona
THE WINDOWLESS VAN WAS PARKED in a barren field of dark red earth surrounded by unmarked service vehicles. As Wolfe’s chopper landed, dozens of men in black tactical gear stood at alert, cordoning off the area.
The skids had barely touched down when Wolfe hit the ground at a run. But he hadn’t gotten twenty yards when his way was blocked by two men with level M-16s. “Code word, zebra four,” he said immediately.
“Stop right there. Hands high.”
“Going for my pocket.”
“Don’t move. Hands high, where we can see them.”
Wolfe raised his hands slowly. “Badge, upper left pocket. Ryker sent me.”
“You will hold your position,” the bigger man ordered. “Otherwise we will fire.”
“Damn it, call Ryker. He’ll vet me.”
Neither of the men moved.
“I need to check that van.” Wolfe put out a strong dominance image to back up his words.
The oldest man shook his head, frowning. “Can’t do that. My orders are to let no one inside the van—not until the chief arrives.”
“I am Commander Houston. Call Ryker to verify my rank and ID, then open that damned van, soldier.”
The M-16s stayed level.
Wolfe’s cell phone rang. “I need to answer that.”
“Negative. You will remain as you are.”
Wolfe hit the man with another dominance image again, making him reel.
It wouldn’t take much energy to counter with a full-scale image distortion pattern, but that was going to require a few minutes. There was also the question of witnesses. Ryker wouldn’t want his team’s unique tactical abilities exposed to fifty strangers.
Which left him only one option—to stand down as ordered. “Ryker is going to have your ass in a sling for this, soldier.”
The soldier’s face was impassive. No one moved as Wolfe’s phone continued to ring. Over the hills a line of clouds raced along the horizon, churning up dust and dead leaves like a wall of broken promises.
KIT TURNED off the highway onto the gravel road twenty miles from Santa Fe. The sun had emerged briefly outside the town, but soon vanished behind more clouds, and now rain darkened the distant mountains.
“Crazy weather.” She looked back at the four dogs crowded together behind her. Since his return via helicopter, Diesel had been accorded royal treatment. Right now Baby was curled up beside him, her head against his neck.
The smell of rain hung heavy in the air, and the weather befitted Kit’s mood, gray and changeable. The dogs seemed restless, too, their eyes on the road that stretched empty and flat back to Santa Fe.
At least her Jeep was repaired. Now she had new tires and a spotless new rear windshield. Kit had been surprised when Izzy told her that plans had changed, and she should pack to leave. His only explanation was that the danger was over and they needed to get moving.
Seeing the hard set to his mouth, Kit gave up probing for more details. Even her questions about Wolfe were flatly countered. Izzy had insisted on hustling her out of the house a few minutes later.
A man in a suit had arrived via helicopter as they were preparing to leave. Ryker, as Izzy called him, appeared to be giving the orders, but Izzy was unbending. When Ryker reboarded the chopper, he threatened Izzy with arrest if he didn’t accompany him as ordered.
Izzy gave him a little two-finger salute and respectfully declined, much to the other man’s fury. Something about Izzy’s cool dismissal made Kit suspect that he was a lot higher on the food chain than Ryker or anyone else knew.
Now Izzy was right behind her, expertly maneuvering a big Ford Explorer with off-road tires and two huge antennae. His moves left no doubt that he’d had evasive and high-speed driving experience.
Kit prayed they woul
dn’t need those skills anytime soon.
Baby pushed between the seats and barked. Something fell into Kit’s lap. When she looked down, she was stunned to see Wolfe’s worn sweatshirt draped over her legs. “Where did you get this?”
The puppy bumped Kit’s shoulder, whining.
“He’s gone, honey.” Kit took a hard breath. “We’ve all got to get over him. Dreaming is pointless.”
Baby mouthed the sweatshirt, then tossed it up into the air stubbornly, almost as if she was trying to tell Kit something.
But there was nothing left to say. This movie was over, and it was time to get back to reality. Wolfe had probably forgotten her and the dogs the minute he climbed aboard his chopper.
When Baby continued to whine, Kit sighed and reached back to scratch her head. “Hey, what kind of response is that? We should be able to stop soon, and then you guys can run around, raising Cain to your hearts’ content. What’s the big problem?”
A single snowflake danced across the windshield.
Baby licked Kit’s cheek, then twisted around, staring intently out the back of the Jeep.
Toward Santa Fe.
Toward the last spot where they’d seen Wolfe.
Kit gripped the wheel hard and refused to look back.
Done was done. No more dreams for her.
Her cell phone rang. She grabbed her purse and checked the source number.
Miki.
“You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Miki stifled a yawn. “Where are you? Liz called me early looking for you, so I tried your cell phone but you didn’t answer.”
“Things have been…hectic.” Kit decided not to mention Liz’s death. It would open too many questions, along with emotions that she didn’t want to share via cell phone.
Kit heard voices on Miki’s end and the sound of music. Sting was crooning his way through “She Walks This Earth.”
“Coffee stop?”
“You bet. Double moccacino latte to fuel preparation for a new assignment I just got. Something tells me I’m going to be mainlining caffeine for the next few weeks so I can be ready to leave.”
“What kind of assignment?”
“I’ll tell you once the ink’s dry. The contract’s not signed yet, so I’m feeling a little superstitious. But it’s good, Kit. I mean, wow. This could be the break I’ve been hoping for.” Miki’s voice trembled. “I just pray I don’t blow it the way I always do.”
Kit tried to concentrate on driving, but she heard the uncertainty in her friend’s voice. “Can’t you give me a hint? Have pity here.”
Kit heard Miki muffle a curse. Then there was a thunderous bang as her cell phone dropped.
“Miki, are you there?”
Voices echoed from the other end of the line, followed by loud rustling.
“Kit, did I lose you?”
“I’m here. What’s going on, Miki?”
“Just some jerk in a hurry. He spilled coffee all over me.” Miki sucked in a breath. “Damn, that hurts. Look, I can’t go over the details now, but how about lunch tomorrow and make it my treat?”
Kit didn’t know where she’d be tomorrow, and she didn’t feel comfortable discussing her situation until things settled down. “Can I call you tonight?”
Silence. Then Miki sighed. “It’s Wolfe, isn’t it? Something happened.”
“Nothing’s happened.” Kit suppressed a pang of guilt at lying to her best friend. “But I’m driving now. I should go.”
“Wait. Let me switch hands.”
Kit heard more rustling sounds.
“Okay, that’s better. Jeez, who knew that a moccacino could hurt so bad. My new silk tank top is ruined, too. The jerk.” Miki made an irritated sound. “Where was I—oh, right. Lunch. Call me tonight and let me know. I’ll drive out to the ranch, if you want. I need to talk about some stuff with you.”
“Are you okay, Miki?”
“Fine. Great. I’d just like a cooler head for a second opinion.”
Kit didn’t feel very cool headed at the moment. Since Wolfe had returned, her life felt like a derailed train on a downhill slope. “Sure. Call me tonight. And go put an ice pack on your arm.”
“Will do. Kiss the doggies for Aunt Miki.” Miki made loud kissing noises, then hung up, laughing.
Kit frowned, wondering about Miki’s mysterious new project and why she needed advice. But with Miki you never knew what mayhem was brewing.
A dry mass of tumbleweeds skipped across the road and wedged firmly against her windshield. Frowning, she switched on her wipers, which only scattered twigs all over the glass.
She flipped on her blinker and pulled over, looking back at the dogs. “Stay.”
Baby poked her head over the seat. Yipping, she looked at the road behind them, and Kit knew just how she felt, thinking about the man she’d left behind. She wondered if Wolfe was safe or hurt, maybe lying somewhere in a pool of blood. No matter what Izzy said, her instincts told her that the danger wasn’t over yet.
If it was, Izzy wouldn’t have insisted on riding shotgun for her like this.
She opened her door and moved around to shove the dry twigs off her windshield. Overhead a shadow darkened the Jeep’s window. Something about the rushing blur of movement made her body tense.
Izzy pulled off the road behind her. His eyes narrowed as he watched the owl. “Why’d you stop?”
“Tumbleweed. One of our local driving hazards. If I don’t clean these branches off, they’ll break up in more pieces and pretty soon I’ll be flying blind.”
Flying blind.
Kit felt a weight in her chest as she remembered Wolfe’s identical choice of words.
“Pretty isolated place here.” Izzy studied the encircling mountains, ringed with storm clouds. “Some people might call it desolate.”
“The desert has its own beauty, Mr. Teague. It’s not soft and green but it’s rugged and clean. If you accept that difference, there’s beauty everywhere you turn.”
Izzy’s brow rose. “Reminds me of a place I know in southern Arizona. And call me Izzy.” He leaned over to help Kit clean the windshield. “We need to get moving.” A faint whine made him look up, frowning. He pulled a pair of binoculars out of his pocket and swept the horizon, then tracked back carefully.
The sound grew louder, but Kit still couldn’t see anything except storm clouds backing up over the mountains.
Izzy shoved the binoculars back into his pocket. “Give me your jacket and take mine,” he said tensely. “Do you have any other clothes in your car?”
“A ‘beauty emergency’ bag that my friend gave me. Makeup and nail polish. Stockings, too. Why?”
“Get that too, then call the dogs outside. Do you have a gun?” There was something cool and curt in his voice. It was the same sound Kit heard when her brother took a call that summoned him at short notice from leave. The voice meant professional mode, danger imminent.
“I’ve got my father’s rifle.” Fear pricked at her neck. “It’s in the Jeep.”
“Get it and bring it out here.” Izzy opened his cell phone, his eyes on the cloud-swept horizon. “Wolfe isn’t answering my calls and I’ve got a bad feeling about that chopper.”
“What chopper?” Kit caught a breath as a black speck cut through the clouds, headed straight for them. “Who’s that?”
“I’m not sure, and I’m not staying around to find out.” As he spoke, Izzy pulled out a nasty-looking sub-machine gun from his SUV along with a tactical vest, which he slid on. Then he tossed Kit his jacket.
“What’s going on?” She tugged his jacket over her shoulders, then took out her rifle with the dogs beside her. “I don’t understand.”
Izzy drew a pistol from a holster under the vest and shot out two tires on his SUV. He took something from his back seat and ran back to Kit’s Jeep, where he grabbed a hat from the floor. “Is there anyplace around here for you to hide?”
Kit frowned. “I think so. I remember there’s a—”
Kit nodded, her throat too dry to answer.
“Good. Keep the dogs quiet, no matter what. I’ll draw the chopper off as long as I can.” He opened the door of her Jeep and slid behind the wheel, tugging her jacket up over one arm and pulling on a pair of tan gloves. “Beauty emergency,” he muttered, digging two hammered-silver bracelets out of her bag. “You’ve got a good friend, whoever she is. These just may save your life.” He tossed her the water bottle from the front seat. “Go.”
Kit tried to focus as he reached into the back seat for a big duffel bag, dug inside and pulled out a Benelli combat shotgun with ghost-ring sights.
This was real, she thought.
They could be dead in the next five minutes. But her body seemed to disconnect. She couldn’t move, frozen by the sight of the looming helicopter.
“Why are you still here?”
Izzy scowled as he slammed 12-gauge shells into the Benelli. “Get moving. And don’t come back, no matter what you hear or see. If you think you see Wolfe or me, wait for the code to be given.”
She nodded jerkily and suddenly all her mobility came rushing back. The primitive urge for survival sent her flying over the ground, racing for the trees. The Jeep’s motor roared behind her as Izzy fishtailed back onto the road, laying rubber as he headed west.
She found cover under the first cottonwood tree, shivering at the sight of the helicopter. She was almost certain there was an abandoned mine up on the ridge. Her father had brought her and her brother into the valley as teenagers, theorizing that it was better to guide them through the danger personally so they wouldn’t be tempted to do dangerous exploring on their own. That year they had visited two other mines in the area, both of them carefully chosen and personally inspected by their father to teach them basic safety and orienting skills with a compass.
This particular mine had been Kit’s first. She still had flashes of bad dreams about the dripping walls and twisting tunnels below the surface. Now one nightmare was leading her straight into another.