Flee the Night

by Susan May Warren

  “Mommy!” Emily screamed. Her arms and legs wrapped around Lacey’s body in a death clench.

  Lacey tucked Emily’s head in close, protecting her from the slap of brush. She felt a trickle of blood on her chin as a branch caught her mouth, but she’d memorized her path and ran with surety. The sound of crashing behind her diminished. Along with Micah’s howl.

  She ran faster, hoping to outrun her grief. She reached the truck and piled in. “Go, Go!”

  Dannette stared at her. “Where’s Micah?”

  “Go!” Lacey crushed Emily’s body close, every nerve rippling. In a couple seconds she was going to unravel.

  “We’ll wait for him.”

  Lacey reached over and put the truck into drive. “Go. Micah’s dead.” She grabbed the wheel with one hand and crunched the gas pedal. They shot up the path.

  Dannette pushed Lacey’s arm away, then kicked her leg. She was visibly shaken. But when a shot pinged her truck, she floored it. In the container in back, her dog let out a barrage of barks and growls.

  They careened through the forest in silence until they hit Service Road 20. Conner was there, his lights bathing the road. Dannette slammed on the brakes, breathing hard. Tears glazed her eyes as she stared at Lacey. “Dead?”

  Lacey could barely speak past her heart jammed in her throat. “He took the shooter out so Em and I could get away.” She’d wanted to scream when she saw him go down, but going after him without protecting Emily first would destroy everything he’d sacrificed his life for. She put her daughter away from her, held her face in her hands, and examined her. “Are you okay, honey?”

  Emily sobbed. Lacey gathered her in as Conner and Sarah approached. Andee remained in the pickup talking into the radio, her big brown eyes on Lacey. If she was trying to raise Micah, she’d only get static. Lacey had seen someone shoot him at least once. If not twice.

  Lacey closed her eyes and fought the darkness closing in on her.

  Chapter 18

  “DANNETTE, YOU TAKE Sherlock and see if you can pick up Micah’s trail. Andee, you track with Dannette and take the first-aid kit.” Conner had suddenly morphed from goofball to general.

  Lacey watched, nearly numb, as Conner moved into action, barking orders like Micah or perhaps the officer he’d been. “Sarah, check out Emily. Lacey, I need you to tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”

  Lacey felt the devastation and tried to find words that might explain Micah’s death.

  Sarah took Emily from her arms, and Lacey couldn’t bear to meet her eyes. But there was compassion on her face. “He’ll be okay, Lacey. He’s a fighter.”

  Lacey didn’t argue, even though she knew the kind of men Ishmael Shavik had worked for. Horror speared her soul. She should have never, ever called Micah. Her selfishness had cost another man his life. She wrapped her arms around herself, holding back the urge to writhe from the inside out.

  Conner crouched before her and put his hands on his knees. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “I should have said no. What was I thinking? I should have never called him—”

  “Calm down,” Conner interrupted. “Micah’s no dummy. He’s a Special Forces captain with years of training. Now, if we want to find him, we need you to get past your guilt and focus on hope. Take a deep breath.”

  Lacey concentrated on his eyes. When she saw no indictment in them, it nourished the wounded places inside. “Okay.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know. I left the package where he instructed, and suddenly someone started shooting. As if it were an ambush. Micah yelled and I think he was shot. Then I saw Emily.” She laced her shaking hands together. Some operator she was. Falling apart on the spot. She glanced at her daughter, who was draped in a blanket and being soothed by Sarah’s gentle touch.

  “The kidnapper told me he was going to shoot Emily, so I thought if I could just get him to shoot me instead maybe she’d run, or Micah could grab her. Somehow I thought Micah would read my mind and he’d move around behind him. And I think that’s what he did. Only … Emily ran to me, and Micah tackled him. And … he …” She closed her eyes. “Micah told me to run.…”

  Conner touched her cheek. “Okay, listen. You did the right thing. Emily matters first. Micah walked in there of his own choosing. We’ll find him.” He stood. “Dannette, you ready?”

  Dannette stood by the truck, holding her keys. “Yes. I’m driving back up to the LKP. I’ll give Sherlock the scent there.”

  “I’m going with you.” Lacey walked over to the pickup.

  “Hardly. I know what I’m doing.” Dannette’s eyes flashed anger. “Thanks, but you’ve done enough damage.”

  Lacey froze. The accusation speared her. Maybe she’d been right in guessing that Dannette and Micah had a relationship. She forced an even tone, pushing past the guilt. “Yes, I have. But I know where we were, and if you want Sherlock to pick up Micah’s trail, that’s a good place to start. Micah may still be there.”

  Lacey saw sadness flicker across Dannette’s face, but she ignored the twist in her heart. If Micah made it out of here alive, he deserved to have someone like Dannette who could love him and never endanger his life.

  “Get in,” Dannette said.

  Lacey nodded. Then she turned and ran to Emily, who was sitting on Sarah’s lap. Fat tears ran down her face. “Emily, Mommy is going to look for a brave man who tried to help us. I will be right back. Sarah will take care of you, okay?”

  Emily’s lower lip shook. “No, Mommy.”

  Lacey touched her daughter’s cheek. “Yes. I promise I’ll come back. I promise.”

  Emily’s big eyes traced hers. “Okay.”

  Sarah cuddled her. “I’ll take good care of her,” she said to Lacey.

  Lacey could hardly speak when she climbed in the truck between Andee and Dannette. They drove up the service road in silence. She’d have a hard time cutting the tension in the truck with a chain saw.

  “Stop here,” Lacey suddenly ordered.

  “No, we were farther,” Dannette argued.

  Lacey shook her head. “See that indentation in the ground and the scrape of dirt? Those are your tire tracks.”

  Dannette stopped the pickup. “I’ll get Sherlock. There are flashlights in the back. And a first-aid kit.”

  A first-aid kit wouldn’t begin to touch Micah’s injuries. Still, Lacey couldn’t help but feel hope as they quickly filled the pack and grabbed flashlights. “Follow me,” she said and marched into the forest.

  The light transected the darkness and showed a few broken branches where either she or her tail had parted the wilderness. She followed her trail and found the place where Micah had lain as she crept to the chert in the rock.

  She crouched and her pulse filled her ears when she saw blood soaked into the leaves.

  Andee pulled up beside her and said nothing.

  Dannette let Sherlock take a whiff. “He can start tracking from here.”

  Lacey climbed over the log, eased up to Swallows Cave, painfully aware that whoever had ambushed her could still be lurking. Nothing happened as she scanned her light over the cave entrance.

  But the CD case was gone.

  She stood at the entrance. “They were over here,” she said, shining her light toward the place where she’d seen Emily illuminated, her eyes big, her little body trembling.

  The urge to find the kidnapper and do something very, very painful to him clutched her. No one should be allowed to scare a child. Ever. Lacey closed her eyes, fighting a surge of rage.

  Find Micah. His howl of agony rang in her mind. She opened her eyes and ran toward his last known position.

  Dannette met her there. Sherlock was off his leash, wearing his shabrack, and sniffing.

  “See the broken branches and the matted dirt?” Dannette said. “Micah was here.”

  Lacey flicked her flashlight over the forest. Dark splatters on the leaves and a trail of damp ground. “And he was bleedin
g badly.”

  Sherlock alerted, two short barks.

  “He’s found the trail,” said Dannette. “Find!” she yelled to the dog.

  Sherlock took off through the forest.

  Dannette followed, then Andee and Lacey. Lacey heard the ladies cutting through the bramble ahead of her, but she’d gone numb. Micah wasn’t here. Which meant, if he was still alive, he might be in the hands of … whom?

  They emerged to another road. Andee ran her flashlight over her map. “This one isn’t marked on the map.”

  “It looks like an old logging road, from the grass cover and deep ruts.” Dannette pointed her light on the strip of grass where Sherlock ran to and fro, his nose down.

  “What’s he doing?” Lacey asked.

  “Trying to reacquire the scent. My air-tracking dog might be able to locate Micah if he was on a vehicle, but even then the smell of exhaust would decay the human scent.” Dannette crouched to study the grass. “Looks like a four-wheeler. These tracks aren’t wide enough for a pickup.”

  Lacey watched the dog for another minute. She keyed her radio. “Search to Base.”

  Sarah’s voice responded. “Base. Come in Search.”

  “Your buddy Hank still around, Sarah?”

  Static. Then, “He’s not my buddy. But yeah.”

  “Tell him to follow the service road we took. It should intersect with an old logging road. And tell him to bring the GPS. Micah has an ELS on him. If he’s still alive, he’ll have activated it.” Her voice faltered on “if he’s still alive.” She closed her eyes. Please, God.

  But despite her inklings that God had sent Micah, there was no way He was going to listen to her now. She’d messed things up and let her impulses grab ahold of common sense by giving in to the small, compelling urge to let Micah come to her rescue. She just hoped they could find him before whoever took Ex-6 discovered the virus.

  She had no doubt that Micah’s life—if he still lived—was a ticking clock.

  Dannette called her dog and rubbed her hand over his head. “Good job, buddy. We’ll find him.”

  “Copy that, Search,” Sarah said, affirming Lacey’s plan.

  “Base out.”

  Lacey tapped the receiver against her knee. “Please, Micah, stay alive.”

  Micah felt like a deer carcass, strapped to the back of the four-wheeler as it roared through the forest. His wrists burned against taped bonds, and he fought the blindfold that cut into his eyes. Every jolt speared him anew; every rut that sent them into the air threatened to drive his teeth through his skull. It took all his focus to muscle through the fog of darkness and pain to stay conscious.

  At least all this pain meant he was alive. And the one thought that saved him was the gut feeling that Emily was safe.

  Emily and Lacey.

  The four-wheeler hit a bump, screamed through the air. When they landed, Micah’s head banged on the fender. He saw white light and gritted his teeth. Focus on staying awake.

  They skidded to a halt. Rough hands yanked him to a sitting position. “On your feet.”

  Micah didn’t even have the strength to lash out at the voice so he let himself be shoved over to a pickup. He was thrown into the back, and the tailgate was closed. The smell of dirt and oil curdled his nose, making his misery acute. He curled into a ball and let the pain suck him under.

  He awoke—or thought he awoke—to darkness. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed glued shut. Panic rose inside and he fought it, centered on his heartbeat, and took an assessment.

  He was still bound: his hands behind his back, his ankles together, tape over his eyes. His leg burned, but he could move it, so it wasn’t broken. He lay on his side, his wounded shoulder facing up, and when he took a breath, the pain was so sharp he had to stifle a gasp. He strained to hear past his racing pulse and made out two voices, one barking orders. They were talking about … Ex-6?

  “It doesn’t work.” The voice was accented.

  “Why?” This voice sounded familiar, and it nudged a memory—one he couldn’t quite grasp.

  “Everything I’ve tried to decode has returned corrupted. She double-crossed you.”

  Micah heard swearing, shattering glass.

  Then his skin prickled when a breath cascaded over his ear. “You’re so pitiful, you know that? If only you knew the woman you risked your life for.” The contempt in the voice raised another flint of recollection. Who?

  Micah swallowed a retort.

  “Oh, so you’re awake, huh?” A short laugh, no—a burst of satisfaction. “You know she planned this, don’t you? I hope you don’t think your little agent girlfriend is trustworthy.”

  “She won’t give you what you want,” Micah snarled. Would she? Or would she abandon him to his fate? She had warned him, practically begged him not to follow her. He deserved what he got, right?

  “Yes, she will. Because it’s all part of the plan. And she’ll tell your friends that she doesn’t want to cause the death of another man.”

  “That was an accident,” Micah growled.

  “Oh, was it? Were you there? Did you see her try and trade John’s life for a profit?”

  Micah was silent, furious at himself.

  “Oh yes, she knew we’d double-cross John. She wanted a piece of the action.”

  “She was trying to save John.”

  “Then why did she let him go in the first place? She met him at the hotel before our meeting. If she told him he was compromised, why did he go? Do you think he didn’t know we’d have him killed?”

  Micah tried to close his ears, but questions churned in the deep places, where he’d buried them over the past three days.

  “Have you ever considered that Mrs. Lacey Montgomery wanted her husband to be killed? That maybe she had a better offer? One we’ve been waiting to cash in on for years? Oh yes, pal, we had this planned from day one. She and I. She knew the money we’d make, hand over fist, with the gasification process, and when it went south it was your Lacey who hatched the new plan … the one involving Ex-6.

  “She was the one who told us where she’d be traveling; she was the one who set up the plan for a kidnapping. She was the one who wanted to barter her daughter for Ex-6 because if she got caught, she’d have a credible defense. And she was the one who decided to call you since we were never sure if you saw me or not back in that warehouse in Kazakhstan, and we didn’t want any loose ends.”

  “I don’t believe you. The text message said ‘No Jim Micah.’”

  “That was her idea. She knew the one way to get you involved was to keep you shut out. Tell me, how did you find out? Did she tell you, or did you sneak the information off her?”

  Micah remembered that moment in the truck. To her stirring just as he took the cell phone out of her pocket. To her stillness as he read the messages. No, she wouldn’t have … except, if she had the same training he had, she would have jostled with the first nudge in her pocket. More than that, she wouldn’t have kept such a valuable piece of equipment in her pocket, where it could be easily lifted. Truth felt like a sword dissecting his heart.

  “She’s been neck deep in this the entire time. And she’ll act like she’s bargaining for your life. When, in truth, she’s just playing a part. Delivery girl. And in turn, she’ll end up with a wad of cash in her offshore account, a new identity, and the gratitude of North Korea.”

  Micah felt kicked right in the heart. No, she hadn’t used him. Couldn’t have faked her feelings in the pickup, the way she’d kissed him, or her tears over her daughter.

  Only she was a career spy. Someone trained in deception. He fought a rush of hot fury—at himself for believing her and at her for using his own heart as a weapon against him.

  “If you think she cares if you live or die … well, you’re more gullible than John Montgomery was. He might have been a two-timing snake of a husband, but he married a black widow.”

  Dawn bruised the sky as Lacey tracked back on the four-wheeler to Service Road 20. She’d
been up and down every logging road, every dent in the forest. No Jim Micah.

  Which meant that he was either dead and didn’t hear her or had been taken by the people who had taken Emily.

  She felt emptied and hollow as she pulled up to the huddle of vehicles. Conner leaned against his truck, his arms folded across his chest, pushing the dirt with his foot. Dannette held Sherlock’s lead. Sarah and Emily were sleeping in the cab of Conner’s truck.

  Hank strode up to her. “Anything?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re tired. Maybe I should have a go.”

  Lacey got off the four-wheeler. “No. He’s gone. They took him; I feel it in my bones.”

  Andee climbed out of Dannette’s truck, then slammed the door. The noise frightened a flock of crows to flight. A chilly, early morning breeze stirred the trees. “What should we do now?” Fatigue lined her pretty face. She’d tied her hair back with a bandanna, and the effect had made her look even more petite. More pretty. Lacey had a hard time believing this woman could muscle a helicopter into submission.

  “I don’t know.” Lacey scrubbed her hands down her face. “If they have Ex-6, it won’t take them long to figure out it doesn’t work. And then I don’t know what they’ll do to Micah.”

  “We’re going back to Poplar Bluff,” Conner said. “You still have the cell phone, right?”

  Lacey felt for it in her pocket. Just to confirm, she checked. No new messages.

  “Why don’t you ride with me, okay?” Conner didn’t elaborate as he walked around to the passenger side, but Lacey had a sick feeling it had to do with Dannette and the fact that Lacey had led the man Dannette loved into danger.

  And here she’d been thinking she and Micah might have had a future. Fool. Fool! That’s what happened when she’d started to listen to Micah’s words of faith with her heart instead of her head.

  She felt brittle as Conner lifted a sleeping Emily out of Sarah’s arms.

  “I have an older model truck. No air bags. Emily can sit in the front seat,” Conner said when Lacey peeked in, glancing for a backseat.