“There was a time, Micah, when I would have agreed with you. I am not without dreams. I wanted Emily to have the life my parents gave me—a home, horses, green grass, and blue sky. Once I even tried to talk John into it.” She faced Micah. “He told me that we could never go back. We knew too much about the world, about evil, to ever sit on our hands in Ashleyville.”
She shook her head. “And I know too much about myself to believe God would let me go home. I’m not a fool. I read the newspapers too, and they weren’t kind.”
She saw Micah blink.
“‘Local Woman Suspected in Slaying of Husband.’” She raised her eyebrows, remembering the headline on the AP wire. “Don’t think for a second that it’s going to be forgotten.”
“I don’t care,” Micah said.
“Yeah, well, you should. If you really hope for a life beyond this moment, you should make sure you stay far away from me.”
Micah felt ill at the broken look on Lacey’s face. He reached out to her, but she jerked away. Her eyes swam with unshed tears, and she clenched her jaw.
How can I hope for any kind of life without you? He wanted to scream the words, but they wouldn’t leave his locked chest. “Then we’ll go somewhere else.”
Her face twisted. “Yeah. You to Leavenworth and me to the gas chamber.”
“You’re being over-dramatic.”
“Am I?” She picked up a towel and scrubbed it over her face. “Well, maybe I am, but I’m telling you, I’m trouble.”
“And I said I’m not afraid of trouble.”
Her eyes sparked. She touched his jaw where she’d kicked him. “Really? Because I’m thinking that we both felt a little sick when I did this.”
He swallowed hard, took her hand, and leaned into it. “I forgive you.”
Her eyes glistened as she yanked her hand away. “Don’t forgive me. Just forget me.”
He saw the fight in her face, and her words came back to him: “You’re so cerebral, Micah.” Yeah, he’d spent the last fifteen years shoving his feelings into compartments, eating tactics, breathing duty because he knew that if he ever let his feelings out of the box, they might devour him. But … maybe it was time to open the box.
“I could easier forget to breathe,” he said softly.
Her vulnerable expression decimated the last of his defenses. He cupped his hand around her neck and drew her close. He kissed her gently, fighting the desperation that seemed to well up inside him. Keeping her body away from him, she put her hands on his chest, her touch hesitant.
Oh, how I love her, Lord. Can’t You fix this? When she made a small sound of acquiescence, something inside him gave way. Oh, Lace. She tasted of salt and sweet surrender; she fisted his shirt and stepped closer.
He put his arms around her, then pulled her into his embrace, not caring that they were both sticky with sweat. She laid her head against him, and he felt her relax. For sure she could hear his racing heart, feel him tremble.
“Besides, I promised not to forget you—ever. Remember?” he said.
She shuddered. “I’m so afraid you’re going to get killed, just like John,” she said in a voice nearly inaudible.
He groaned. “I’m not John.”
She said nothing.
“We’ll figure out a way to bring you and Emily home, Lucky Penny. I promise.” Please, Lord, let my words be true.
Show me how to finally be the man Lacey needs.
As Micah held her, feeling her hands dig into his shirt, he thought he heard a soft voice deep in his heart whisper, Be still, and know that I am God.
But he’d been still and silent for so many years. Wasn’t it time for action?
Chapter 17
THIS WAS A bad idea. Lacey knew it in her gut. Yet the tugging to let Micah help shoulder her burden had wrapped around her heart until she felt nearly undone.
He hadn’t forgotten her.
So Lacey stood among Micah’s friends, listening to him describe the plan, watching his finger trace the outline of the map, check the ELT scanner, and clip it to his belt. Conner paced the room. Dannette sat on the bed, petting her bloodhound. Andee leaned against one wall, arms crossed over her petite frame.
Lacey could hear Sarah and Hank Billings arguing outside about his wanting to join them on their search, and it wasn’t pretty. The tall forest ranger had appeared sometime in the late afternoon, carrying an armful of detailed topographical maps. He offered not only to help search but to let Micah use his four-wheeler, now loaded on a trailer behind a forest-service pickup.
Micah declined both offers but had invited the guy for coffee. Obviously, much to Sarah’s chagrin.
Lacey knew how she felt. Micah wore his commando face and seemed to be bullying everyone around at the moment. She turned over the CD case, knowing her world was contained in this little padded square. She hoped the virus she’d implanted worked. As soon as whoever took Ex-6 downloaded the program, it would launch a worm that would slowly eat through the files, corrupting them more the longer he used them. She just hoped he wouldn’t catch on until after Emily was safely secured. She could use a blip of hope right about now.
“Any word yet, Lacey?”
Lacey shook her head. She’d hoped to receive a message from the kidnapper soon about where to meet Emily, but it was already 10 p.m. “I’m going on record as saying that I think this is a bad idea. The more people involved, the greater chance for discovery. Micah, you could be leading your team into an ambush. We don’t know how many people this guy has out there, and if he was working with Shavik, you know they play for keeps. They’re not going to be armed with BB guns and jackknives.”
“If Micah isn’t seeing reality here, you should,” she said to Conner. After surveying Conner’s electronic setup—something Bill Gates and the NSA would envy—she’d discovered that he had spent much of the last decade working against groups like the Taliban, Hezbollah, Chul-Moo, and Hayata. She didn’t know why Conner had left the commandos, but she counted on his inside knowledge to make Micah see the folly of diving into this situation with his brave but unarmed team. “Please listen to me.”
Micah gave her a hard look. “Don’t tempt me to lock you in the bathroom.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Fury had her by the throat.
“Okay, then I think we need to leave soon,” Micah said. “But first I’m going to pray.”
Conner opened the door and called out to Sarah. She stomped in, shut the door on Hank. Lacey caught a glimpse of his baffled expression.
The group huddled up like a basketball team. Micah even knelt. The sight of Captain Jim Micah on his knees, humble before God, sent a strange spasm of warmth through her.
Lacey stood slightly away from the rest and locked her hands together, her eyes open, trying to set her heart to stone. It was getting more and more difficult to deny that God hadn’t heard her feeble, foxhole prayers and sent in the A-team. A as in angels.
“Lord, You promise in Isaiah that You will be with us when we pass through difficult times. That You won’t let them sweep us away. We need You now. You tell us that we are precious in Your sight. And we know Emily is. Because You love us, please act on our behalf. Deliver Emily from this situation and our secrets from terrorists’ hands. If possible please deliver Lacey from this person who wants to destroy her life.”
Lacey’s throat thickened. That was like asking God to deliver her from herself. She’d been her own destroyer. Made her own choices. Shackled herself to evil.
“Lord, we call upon You for mercy, for wisdom, for power. Grant us a clear path tonight and hedge us in on all sides with Your protection. In Jesus’ name …”
Amen, thought Lacey as she wiped a tear away. So much for her stonewalled heart.
Micah stood. “Let’s roll.”
Lacey rode between Dannette and Micah, squished like a prisoner. Conner, Andee, and Sarah followed, and behind them came Hank in his truck, hauling the four-wheeler. Lacey remembered Sarah specifically telling
him he wasn’t invited. Obviously Sarah had as much trouble getting Hank to take her seriously as Lacey did with Micah.
Micah’s presence beside Lacey felt warm and solid, despite the dread that radiated cold through her bones. They said little as they drove. Micah gave Dannette directions as she drove and asked Lacey three times if she’d gotten a call.
When they reached Service Road 20, Dannette cut north on a thin track between trees. Conner and his crew stayed on the road. “I hope you can get a signal here,” Micah said.
Lacey took out the telephone, prompted by a sudden spurt of fear. The signal was faint but strong enough to receive a message.
They tracked farther into the tangle of woods. The moon had risen, cutting a silvery swath before them, beyond Dannette’s headlights. The darkness that pressed in against the windows sent a shiver down to Lacey’s toes. Emily was out there. Cold. Afraid. Alone.
Lacey knew exactly how she felt.
“Stop the truck,” Micah said. Dannette rolled to a stop. “Okay, according to the map, this is the edge of Coward’s Hollow.” He folded the map, shoved it into a pocket in his black sweater. He had smeared black paint on his face, and he looked like a scary black-ops soldier.
Or maybe like the man who’d saved her life in Kazakhstan.
He strapped on a thick watch, a neck mic, and an ear-piece, then shoved the transmitter inside another pocket in his sweater. “You contact me the minute he calls,” he told Lacey and handed her another transmitter. “It’s already 11:45, so it shouldn’t be long. Where’s the package?”
Lacey held out Ex-6 and barely let go when he grabbed it. “Micah,” she said, knowing her emotions filled her eyes, “please be careful.”
The stony look he’d given her since climbing into the truck softened. Just enough for her to glimpse the man she loved inside all that black paint and warrior exterior.
“Stay here. Please.” He must have seen her fear for he touched her face with his gloved hand. “Lacey, remember the widow of Nain. God cares.” She held his hand to her face, aching to believe him. “I’ll bring back your daughter.”
She nodded.
Then he slipped out into the night. He vanished into the bramble in a second.
She closed her eyes, reciting in her head the prayer he’d spoken: “Grant us a clear path tonight and hedge us in on all sides with Your protection.”
Her telephone jangled. When she picked up, a voice emerged from the other end. “Mommy?”
Her heart stopped.
“Mommy, are you there?”
“Emily! Honey, are you okay?”
“Mommy!” her daughter screamed.
Lacey heard scuffling, then a slightly accented voice said, “Now you know she’s alive. You have fifteen minutes to get to Swallows Cave. Drop Ex-6. Return to the truck. If it works, you’ll get another call from me in thirty minutes telling you where to pick up your daughter.”
What? No. “I want her now. You won’t get Ex-6 until she’s in my arms.”
“Then say good-bye now.”
She heard more scuffling. “Mommy!”
“Okay!” Lacey’s throat closed, so she forced her voice through it. “Okay. Yes. It’ll be there.”
“Good. And don’t bring company. I’ll be watching and I want to see your pretty face as you betray your country.”
Lacey glanced at Dannette. “Okay.”
The line went dead. Lacey stared at the phone, her pulse nearly deafening.
“What did he say?” Dannette asked.
Lacey looked at her. “I gotta go. I’m sorry, Dannette, but Micah is only going to get us killed.”
“No. Trust him. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Tell him to come back in. I’ll meet you back at the truck.” Lacey handed Dannette the receiver. “I also know what I’m doing.”
But inside, her scream, the one that began years ago, revived and echoed through her empty soul.
Micah didn’t have to go far to realize that Lacey was going to defy him. He hadn’t really believed she would stay in the truck, but watching her stalk out into the night ripped a hole through his chest.
Was this how John felt when he saw Lacey appear in the warehouse, knowing that the woman he loved was about to sacrifice herself for him? Or had John even thought that far? John had been so much about himself, his own glory. Micah saw that clearly now.
Micah stole silently behind Lacey as she tracked north, using a flashlight, a topo map, and a compass. So maybe she had taken a survival training class. She moved like a cat through the woods, stepping over trees, around brush, tracking mostly by the light of the moon.
She finally crouched behind a downed tree length and checked her map. Then she tucked it away and pulled out a package.
The rabbit’s foot? He frowned. There was no way he was going to let her become a traitor without duking it out with her. He scrambled toward her and leaped to tackle her when she sprang out from behind a tree.
Lacey whirled, then aimed a kick at his shoulder. He dodged and pinned her, breathing hard. She pushed against him. “Leave me, Micah. Please.”
“Never,” he hissed. “What are you up to?”
She shoved him away. “Promise you’ll stay here?”
He shook his head.
Frustration flashed across her face. “If you care about me or Emily at all, you’ll stay here.” She got up and tucked the rabbit’s foot into her pocket. “Give me the CD case.”
He fished it out of his belt pouch and handed it to her. “I have eyes on you at all times. You get into trouble, I’m not staying put. That’s my promise.”
She swallowed, and he thought he saw a flicker of pain in her eyes. “Don’t get us killed.”
Then she turned and sprinted for a chert, a slice of limestone in the folds of a long ridge known as Swallows Cave. She crouched at the entrance, looked around, and dropped the CD case. She spun around, as if to sprint back.
A shot chipped off the rock right above her head.
Lacey dived into the darkness.
Micah was on his feet, pulse roaring. It was a trap. Whoever was after Lacey’s program had no intention of letting her live.
Another shot.
Micah searched for the shooter, but he didn’t have his night visions or even a shotgun to scope through. “Get out of there!” he yelled toward Lacey.
A barrage of shots flaked off wood over his head. He hit the ground, army-crawled toward the cave entrance. “Lacey, are you okay?”
Nothing.
His heart climbed into his throat. Why hadn’t she stayed in the truck? He was poised to leap into the cave when another shot clipped the air. His shoulder burned, a pain so sharp it swiped his breath, his every thought. He went down, not sure where he was hit, fighting through the folds of shadow and gulping in air.
“Mommy!”
He pushed himself to his elbows, clenching his teeth against agony.
Emily had stepped out of the cave, her face white. No, Lacey! But he couldn’t push the words out through the pain. Micah’s gaze fixed on a light, then on the silhouette of a little girl holding a teddy bear.
Mommy!” she screamed again.
Lacey stepped away from the cave entrance, hands up. Like a sacrificial offering. Her face was stoic and she spoke calmly. “Mommy’s here, honey. Don’t cry.”
“I thought you were told not to bring anyone with you,” came a voice from the shadows. An accent-laden voice.
Lacey didn’t flinch. “He followed me. I didn’t invite him.”
That much was true. Micah crawled out of his position, got to his knees, and struggled to flank the speaker. The pain had released him, adrenaline cutting off the nerves to his brain and reducing the wound to a gnawing burn. He picked up speed.
“Do you have Ex-6?”
Micah heard Lacey say, “It’s in the entrance to the cave.”
“Good. Go back to your truck.”
Micah glanced at her. She was barely outlined by the moonlight
, but her expression could stop a small army. “Not without my daughter.”
“If you want her to live, you’ll leave.”
Micah could see the shadow now. His blood went cold in his veins when it cocked a handgun and pressed it against the little girl’s head.
Lacey was right; Emily looked just like John. Blonde hair, cute, pug nose. He shoved his feelings into a hard ball to deal with later and forced himself to move behind the man.
“Please, I’ve given you what you want. Let her go.”
A bitter laugh came from beyond the shadow, and it razed Micah’s nerves. “Should I trust you? Like John did?”
Micah eased closer.
“Go home, Lacey. Or I’ll deliver your daughter in a body bag.”
Micah leaped. He tackled the shooter as Emily ran, screaming. A shot, and Micah heard Lacey yell. The shooter turned, cuffed him across the forehead. The blow made him see white.
Another shot, and this time Micah felt it in his leg—wet and hot. He groaned but held on to the struggling figure. “Run, Lacey!” He felt something rake his head and blinked against the pain.
“Don’t let her get away!” The man under Micah yelled to his partner and threw him off.
Micah faced the sky and saw the buttstock of a Colt Commando assault rifle arrow toward his face. He rolled. It landed in the dirt. His assailant swore when Micah grabbed his ankle. He tried to rise, but his leg wasn’t working, and the butt came down on his wounded shoulder. He howled in agony. Run, Lacey!
The last thing Micah saw was a foot aiming for his head.
Lacey scooped up Emily, put her on her hip, turned, and sprinted. She heard Micah howling in the background, but her legs churned as she put distance between herself and the Korean on her tail.
The same large Korean who’d brought her the cell phone in the hospital. And on the train.
Idiot, idiot! She couldn’t believe she’d not processed these info bytes before now.
Flee the Night Page 20
