Familiar Showdown
Page 15
“Could I ask a favor?” Another idea had formed full-blown in Johnny’s head. It was crazy to trust someone he’d never met before, but he had no choice, really. A four-mile round trip ride on horseback would take half an hour or better at high speed—and that was time Stephanie might not have.
“You can ask. Won’t guarantee I’ll do it.”
“Could I get you to take that ride and make a call for me? It’s serious. Government business.”
The cowboy hesitated. “This sounds like you’re getting ready to play me for a fool. Government business. That’s generally a ticket straight to the hot place.”
Johnny couldn’t stop the smile. Cowboys were an independent breed with little use for the federal government or law enforcement types. They minded their own business, and when it was necessary, they took care of people who treated them wrong. “There’s a killer loose in this area, and he’s taken Ms. Ryan hostage. I’m trying to save her. If you’d make that call, it would be a big help.”
Suspicion dropped from the cowboy’s face. “You’re serious about this.”
Johnny pulled his badge from his back pocket and flipped it open. “I’m relying on you to keep this to yourself. But if you’ll make this call…” He handed him his cell phone. “Just hit the talk button and when someone answers, tell them Johnny Kreel needs full backup. Choppers, ground support, surveillance, everything. Make sure they understand full backup. Tell them Carlos Diego is in the area and has taken two hostages.”
“Two?”
Johnny didn’t have time to explain. “That’s right. Can you do that?”
“Let me saddle up.”
“Can I borrow another horse?”
The cowboy thought. “Take Gibb’s horse. He left Rascal here until he got a new job. He won’t mind.”
“Thanks.”
They hurried into the barn.
MY MAMA ALWAYS WARNED ME that eavesdropping would come to no good end. Now I know what she meant. Johnny is getting a horse from Jasper Platt. A horse. Great. Somehow I knew it would eventually come down to this. Fate would never let me escape at least one horseback ride. And the beast’s name is Rascal. How appropriate.
Here comes Johnny out of the barn. The little horse is moving out calmly. And Johnny has stopped and is leaning down, waiting for me to leap into his arms.
Here goes nothing!
I’m onboard and we’re setting off at a gallop. Jasper is tearing off in the opposite direction on another horse. Now the front door of the ranch house is flying open to reveal Rupert Casper standing in the doorway like doom. He’s very unhappy, and I suspect Jasper Platt is going to be looking for a new job when he returns.
Hey, what’s going on here? Another man is joining Casper on the porch. They’re running to get in a truck. They’re following us?
What the dickens? Why would Rupert Casper care if we borrowed a horse that isn’t his?
Johnny is aware that we’ve picked up a tail and he’s doing what any good, insane cowboy would do. He’s cutting across the range. I certainly hope this horse knows how to dodge holes. A fall at this speed would kill us all.
The best I can do is close my eyes and hang on to the saddle with all four claws. Miss Cowgirl, we’re on the way—if we live long enough to get there to rescue you.
Oh, crap, that looks like a small ravine ahead. About three feet wide. And as far as I can see in the moonlight, it looks deep. Rascal isn’t slowing. Horses see pretty well at night, or so I’ve been told. Can this horse not see that we’re going to fall into a gully?
Oh, the horse sees it, and so does Johnny. But he isn’t going to slow up. This is what I hate about riding horses. We’re going to jump! Oh, great tigress, watch out for your fine black cat!
Whew! We’re on the other side. And behind us Casper is still coming at ninety miles an hour. I begin to see the brilliance of Johnny’s plan to jump the ravine.
One, two, three—whammo! Rupert Casper must not have seen the ravine in time to stop, and let me just say that a truck cannot leap a three-foot divide. Johnny has slowed long enough to check out the damage, and it is superb. Casper and his cohort are jammed halfway in the ravine. If they move too much, the truck may get dislodged and fall all the way in. I hope they’re sweating bullets. I have no idea why they were chasing us, but we can find that out later.
Ah, there is a keen sense of justice at work here. No time to enjoy the spectacle, though. We’re off to save Miss Cowgirl.
RORY HAD SLIPPED into an uneasy sleep filled with twitches and tremors. Stephanie knew some of it was from the cold ground but most of it derived from his injuries. She moved closer to him, trying to use her body warmth to keep him alive.
The blood loss from the gunshot wound wouldn’t normally be enough to kill him, but the big man called Plenty had really worked Rory over, with his fists and his knife. Rory had some broken ribs, at the very least. His breathing sounded as if the damage might be more severe. Without medical attention, he would surely die.
For the moment, Carlos Diego had decided to leave the two of them alone. He’d told them he would wait until light so Rory could watch what he intended to do. This was only a respite, Stephanie knew. Diego intended to kill Rory no matter what, and probably she would die, too.
Her hardheadedness had put her in a very bad spot indeed. She should have listened to Johnny.
When she thought of Johnny, she was nearly overwhelmed by emotion. Lying on the ground beside a man who was destined to die, if not dying already, she realized how she’d cheated herself.
She’d had one memorable night in Johnny’s arms. That was all. Some lucky folks spent a lifetime sleeping next to the person they loved. For her, that time had been all too brief. Even as she’d made love to Johnny, her heart had known how much she felt for him, how deep and how quickly her love for him had grown.
He’d stepped into the void left by Rory and he’d filled it completely—and offered so much more. By contrast, the love she’d thought she felt for Rory was a poor imitation. Because of her own stubborn nature, she’d learned this too late.
The man beside her shook with a chill, and she pressed closer to him, but her thoughts were on Johnny. She allowed herself time to visualize him in splendid detail. He was ruggedly handsome, and she loved the way he moved. Even though he’d lied to her repeatedly, Stephanie knew he’d only done so to protect her. Especially from the knowledge that Rory was alive.
Johnny had gained nothing from withholding that. He’d done it because he’d known how deeply the truth would cut her.
She remembered the way he’d jumped into the round pen and boosted her out of Black Jack’s way. He’d risked his own life to save hers. And then he’d won the stallion over.
Just as he’d won her over. Johnny had a way of touching her that moved her to a degree she’d never experienced. His touch communicated his courage and kindness. He’d tamed her much as he had Black Jack. All in all, he was a pretty remarkable man.
Rory moaned softly, and she felt his forehead. He was burning up with fever. The gunshot had likely gotten infected, and she’d carry the burden of his death for as long as she lived. Which probably wasn’t going to be much longer.
Judging by the angle of the moon, dawn wasn’t far off. In a short time, the east would show the first pinky-gray tones of day. Once that happened, Diego was going to kill Rory and then her. Or maybe he’d kill her first in an attempt to get Rory to tell him where the microchip was.
But she had a tiny surprise. She’d come on a fool’s errand and she acknowledged that her actions were ill-advised and hardheaded, but the fat lady hadn’t sung yet. Stephanie had learned something very valuable in the last two days. She was capable of killing to protect the things she loved.
DAWN BEGAN TO BRIGHTEN the eastern horizon. Johnny had ground-tied Rascal in the safety of a small canyon. The horse had a bit of grass and the trickle of a small creek to drink from, and he was also far enough away that any noise he made couldn’t be heard by
the men in the camp below. Johnny had climbed to high ground, where he could watch Carlos Diego start the day.
It was remarkable that Diego had been so careless. The Colombian was known for his security and intelligence. Therefore, he must have an ace up his sleeve. He didn’t believe Johnny would risk attacking his encampment because Stephanie would certainly be killed in the melee.
It was a tough predicament. As daybreak illuminated the scene below him, he could make out Plenty, stretching and scratching. Carlos Diego, too, rolled out of a bedroll. Two other henchmen had also risen for the day. And at last he saw Stephanie, pressed against Rory. The sight was like a knife blade to his gut, but he ignored it. If Stephanie were still in love with Rory, if she could forgive him for all he’d done, Johnny would walk away. He’d known when he went to Running Horse Ranch that Stephanie had accepted a marriage proposal from Rory. She obviously had strong feelings for him.
The night they’d spent together, while the most significant event of his life, had been stolen time. He and Stephanie had come together as two desperate people fueled by the knowledge that their lives were in danger. How well he knew the intoxication of danger. And Stephanie had awakened from the spell of it and made her choice. She’d gone after her fiancé to rescue him—even at the risk of her own life. While Johnny didn’t like it, he also wouldn’t fight it.
He had to stop thinking about Stephanie and his feelings for her. Those very feelings could get them all killed if he didn’t keep them in check. A good agent never let emotion interfere with his decisions. He’d gone through years of training to learn how to turn his feelings off. And that was exactly what he intended to do.
Staring down at the camp, he observed the scene without emotion. Rory looked like hell. Aside from the gunshot wound, someone had beaten him severely. Stephanie looked unharmed, but she was clearly concerned about Rory. He could tell by how she touched his forehead and leaned over him.
Had Stephanie not taken it upon herself to rush to Rory’s rescue, Johnny would have had a number of better options to rescue Rory. Now, though, any action he took would result in the death of Rory and/or Stephanie. He was an excellent shot, but he couldn’t pick off Diego, Plenty and their two other accomplices before they killed Rory or Stephanie.
But that was exactly what he had to do. He’d have one chance at this, and if he messed it up, Stephanie would likely die.
As he watched, Plenty walked over and kicked Rory hard. Stephanie rose up to protest, and Plenty slapped her.
Johnny focused his shot through the rifle, centering on Plenty’s forehead. He wanted to pull the trigger. He itched to pull it. Plenty was a cold-blooded murderer who took pleasure in inflicting pain on helpless victims. His death would be a boon to the world.
But it wasn’t time. Not yet. Everything had to be perfect. If only he could alert Stephanie that he was there and that help from Omega would surely be on the way soon.
As Johnny watched, Plenty went to Rory and pulled him to his knees. The other two henchmen gathered around Rory and Stephanie. Carlos Diego made a show of preparing a cup of coffee, his back turned to the others. But when he turned around, things would heat up, Johnny knew.
The endgame had begun.
Chapter Seventeen
Stephanie stepped between Plenty and Rory. Her heart was thudding with fear, but she couldn’t let Plenty kill Rory right in front of her.
“Move,” Plenty said. He lifted a hand in warning that he meant to knock her out of his way.
In the morning light Stephanie was even more afraid of him than she’d been the night before. He was huge, at least six foot eight and two hundred and fifty pounds. None of it was fat. His black hair was slicked back in a ponytail, and a large scar ran from the corner of his right eye down to his lip. The scar tissue had pulled his face into a permanent grimace. He smiled as he saw her reaction to his appearance.
“Let me talk to Rory,” she said, hoping to buy some time. “He’ll tell me where this thing you want is hidden.”
Plenty glanced beyond her and she was sure he was checking with Carlos Diego. Apparently, the boss man agreed to give her a chance to get the information from Rory, because Plenty shrugged. “Talk. But make it fast. We can make him talk without you.”
“If that were true, you’d know where to look,” she pointed out. “You haven’t been able to beat it out of him so far.”
“Talk,” Plenty said gruffly.
She nodded and turned to face Rory, who swayed on his knees as if he might collapse back into the dirt.
The fever was higher, and Stephanie wondered if Rory would understand the dire situation they were in. He looked around, but she couldn’t be certain the circumstances registered with him. If he wasn’t able to play along…She couldn’t begin to think of what might happen to them both.
She put a hand on his shoulder and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Rory, what did you hide at the ranch?” She used her free hand to hook her hair behind an ear, revealing one of the earrings.
He glanced at her, confusion on his heated face. “Stephanie?” he said, as if he wasn’t certain it was her.
“What did you hide at Running Horse Ranch?” she asked calmly. “Tell me what it was and where you hid it, Rory, or they’re going to kill us.”
She made a point of pushing her hair behind her ear again. This time Rory’s vision caught on the earring. She saw his focus sharpen and awareness light his face. She shifted her body so that Plenty couldn’t see. “Tell me what’s at the ranch,” she said again, emphasizing ranch.
Rory took a ragged breath. He swayed on his knees, and she reached out to support him. “The list of agents,” he said softly. “I took it from Capricorn, Diego’s contact.”
Stephanie’s gaze never left Rory’s, but she could feel Plenty and even Carlos Diego pressing closer. “What was on the list?” she asked.
“Names. Places. Dates. The Middle Eastern operation.” Rory reached up and touched her hair, his finger tracing down one of the earrings. “It’s worth a whole lot of money.”
It was the signal Stephanie had been waiting for. Despite his injuries and the fever, Rory was lucid enough to understand. He would play along. He knew she had the microchip, but he would divert part of Diego’s forces back to the ranch to search for it.
“Tell me where the information is located at the ranch, Rory. Mr. Diego is eventually going to get it, and he’s going to hurt us both until he does. We might as well give it to him. Where did you hide it at the ranch?”
“I can’t tell.” Rory caressed her cheek, and Stephanie clearly saw the regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I didn’t mean to. I was going back to the ranch to get the—I never meant to put you in danger. Never.”
“Can the soap opera,” Plenty said, walking closer. “Where’s the microchip? What does it look like?”
Rory shook his head. “She doesn’t know anything. Let her go and I’ll tell you.”
Plenty grasped Stephanie’s hair. He jerked her head back exposing her throat. She felt the blade of a knife.
“Where is the microchip?” he asked again.
“Let her go,” Rory said calmly.
Plenty shoved Stephanie so hard she fell forward. When she came down on her knees, she put her hands on Rory’s chest in a supplicating gesture. “Tell him what he wants to know. Please.”
“I can’t.” Rory gave her an imperceptible nod. “Diego can’t get the information. He’ll sell it—”
Stephanie sensed the approach of Plenty and knew he’d hurt Rory again. Rory was playing his role too well. She whirled around. “Give me a minute, okay? I can make him tell me where it is.”
“See that you do,” Diego said as he walked up. “And be quick. Daylight isn’t our friend.” He glanced around. “Your houseguest will be trying to contact his superiors and bring in help.”
“Johnny can’t get help. There’s no phone reception, the Internet connection is destroyed and our vehicles are disable
d. There’s not even a horse there he can ride,” Stephanie pointed out to him. “The only place within five miles he can go is Rupert Casper’s.”
“That’s not really an option.” Diego made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Casper plays for our team now.”
Stephanie was stunned, and she didn’t bother to hide it. “Casper? Why would he help you?”
Carlos lifted one shoulder. “He wants your property, and he’ll be able to buy it for a dime on the dollar once this is done.”
Stephanie clamped down on her temper. She’d deal with Rupert Casper when she finished with Carlos and Plenty. But first she needed Rory to help her. She turned back to him. “Where is the information? What does it look like?”
“In the cabin,” Rory gasped. He swayed and Stephanie caught him and helped him into a sitting position on the ground.
“Where?” she pressed. “Tell me, Rory. We have to try to save ourselves.”
“Tell her!” Plenty pushed the barrel of a gun into Rory’s temple. “Tell her or I’ll splatter your brains all over her and we’ll take that ranch apart board by board.”
Rory finally nodded, as if he’d conceded. “In the fishing tackle box. I tied it into a fishing lure,” Rory said. “A yellow sally. It’s a tiny microchip.”
Stephanie held her breath. If Diego didn’t kill them both now, her plan might work.
“Where is that tackle box?” the leader demanded. “Tell me.”
Stephanie nodded. “It’s in the utility room in the cabin, where the washer and dryer are. There’s a cabinet above the dryer. It’s there.” She licked her dry lips. If she’d ever wanted to bluff her way out of a situation, now was the time.
“Kill them,” Diego said to Plenty. He waved toward his two gunmen. “You two, drive to the ranch and get the tackle box.”
Gun drawn, Plenty came toward Stephanie. She held up a hand. “Rory is delirious. You should find the tackle box before you kill him. What if the micro-whatever isn’t there? I don’t know where it is. Believe me, Johnny and I searched everywhere for it.”