The Killing Game

by Anderson, Toni

  He waited for him to get to the point. A long beat of silence insulated them from the throngs of tourists and lunching City workers. “I hear an old friend of yours turned up in Pakistan.”

  “What of it?” Jonathon allowed his outrage to show. A true, blue-blooded Brit being accosted by a nasty communist.

  “Do you think he realizes who the new prime minister is?” Valisky’s eyes didn’t alter when he smiled. “Or rather, who his father was?”

  The first sliver of fear slipped under Jonathon’s skin. “How could he?”

  “Less than a month after Sebastian Allworth’s son gets voted into power and the wolf shows his face again?”

  “Coincidence.” Jonathon unclenched his fists and rested his hands along his thighs.

  “Well, if he is alive, I bet he remembers you, Mr. Boyle. He did try to kill you in Yemen.”

  Jonathon did not trust Valisky. He didn’t trust anyone. Nevertheless, this was an old game they’d been playing since they’d been small boys in a Russian orphanage and there was too much at stake to risk exposure. “Dmitri Volkov is a fool. We all thought he was dead.”

  “That’s what he wanted you to think, so maybe he isn’t quite the fool we all wanted to believe.”

  Rage flickered over his vision in a haze of patriotic red. “What does he want?” Jonathon could think of no reason for Volkov to return to the limelight when all he’d achieve was a quick and violent death.

  “Revenge?” Valisky’s expression was sly. “To destroy the man who destroyed him?”

  “Men,” Jonathon corrected with bite. “The men who destroyed him.”

  “You asked for my help. I helped.” Valisky shrugged, then looked away—perhaps remembering exactly how he’d brought Volkov down. “His family disappeared.” Those shrewd black eyes looked back at him. “He has to be up to something.”

  Jonathon closed his eyes and raised his face to the heat of the sun. “The SAS are after him.”

  “So are Spetsnaz.”

  “And what happens if British and Russian Special Forces meet?” Despite the sunshine, Jonathon’s skin felt clammy. Why this? Why now?

  The big man shifted, his shoulders moving heavily beneath the jacket he wore to conceal his weapons. Valisky never went anywhere unarmed. “That part of the world is a dangerous place, Mr. Boyle. Full of drug dealers and bandits.” He laughed. “Denial is everything, and these days no one wants open war.”

  Jonathon didn’t have time to deal with shadows from the past. He had important things to do. A bright shiny new goal. A way to prove he was the greatest spy who’d ever lived. “You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Valisky. I have important business to attend to this week. Something that cannot be put at risk. Especially by someone who should have been taken care of years ago.” His tone was quiet but harsh.

  Valisky’s brows rose in cold assessment. “I heard a rumor you’d cancelled your retirement party.”

  Jonathon climbed to his feet, grimacing at his stiff joints. “Do svidaniya, Mr. Valisky.”

  “Comrade.”

  Jonathon wandered blindly in the direction of Horse Guards. The sun glared but it had lost its warmth. A bead of perspiration trickled down the channel of his spine and soaked into his starched white shirt as he passed through the shadows of Whitehall. The clock had begun to tick but the jackpot was bigger than ever. Dmitri Volkov had to die. Before he revealed secrets he didn’t even realize he knew.

  CHAPTER 5

  The soldier was watching her. Not that he looked like a real soldier with his mismatched gear, and he was alone. She frowned. Soldiers never traveled alone. But the weapons and vest he wore were menacingly authentic.

  A mercenary?

  His gaze probed a spot right between her shoulder blades, making it itch. What was the British Army doing in the Wakhan Corridor? She didn’t want soldiers here. Soldiers…she swallowed hard and forced the memories away.

  This wasn’t about her past. It was about saving one of the world’s most endangered species. There was no time to waste.

  Maybe he was the poacher, playing his own little game of cat and mouse with her. Maybe she was going to get her throat cut when she least expected it. She raised her hand to her neck.

  Thinking logically, he’d had the chance to hurt her earlier and hadn’t taken it. Sure, she was dusty and a little sore from being pushed face-first in the dirt and hogtied, but he’d gone out of his way to defend himself rather than attack her. And she’d held a gun on him so she was lucky he hadn’t put a bullet in her. He hadn’t raped her or shot G-man, so she had to assume he was who he said he was and had his own reasons for sneaking around the Hindu Kush—reasons she didn’t want to know.

  Snow and ice outlined the peaks, and a frigid wind tore down the valley, slicing through her clothes like splintered glass. Right now she had little choice except to follow the leopard she was convinced was injured. She’d deal with the soldier later—if she had to. She checked the radio signal and adjusted her course.

  The air smelled clean and sharp, the landscape rising aggressively before her even though she was far from the summits. The sky was fading to gray and she was losing the light. Damn. She urged the horse faster, got to a narrow ravine and dismounted to make her way down a path hardly wide enough for a goat. The horse’s nostrils flared. Hot breath flowed against her cheek as the animal’s hooves slipped and dug in.

  “Steady.” Axelle turned to soothe him, smoothing her hand over his equine nose. “It’s okay.” If she didn’t find G-man soon she was going to have to camp out with the wolves, because the terrain was too rocky and treacherous to travel by horseback in darkness. That pissed her off. She didn’t want to be away from camp, not knowing what was going on with her project overnight. Not to mention being in the company of a gun-toting stranger.

  Spooked, the gelding jerked his head and rolled his eyes. He’d scented something dangerous. Axelle’s scalp prickled. She looked up, and even though she knew he was there from the signal, she had a hard time picking out the leopard until his teeth flashed in a snarl. He was still some distance away and growing more indistinct with each slip of the sun.

  Her heart tapped against her ribs. She slid her hand into her saddlebag, pulled out one of the tranquilizer cartridges. Slowly she eased the rifle free of its case and inserted the cartridge. Cocked the gun. She raised the rifle and sighted the leopard. Deliberate footsteps snagged her attention. The soldier—Dempsey.

  Why the hell is he following me?

  She didn’t need a damn babysitter.

  He stopped by her side, relaxed and loose-limbed. Despite being on foot, carrying all that heavy gear, he wasn’t even out of breath. He stared from the leopard to her as though he was her instructor, assessing her performance and finding her wanting. Her jaw clenched as his sleeve brushed hers. A purposeful contact that made her take a step away into the horse. Weakness he was sure to notice.

  She resettled the rifle against her shoulder but felt his stare. She flicked a glance at him. “What?”

  Eyes of startling blue met hers, weighing and measuring every piece of information with razor-sharp intelligence. She hadn’t noticed how shrewd those eyes were when he’d been tying her up and sitting on her. She should have.

  “Can you make the shot?” The Irish was clear in his voice now.

  Axelle pursed her lips. She was at the limit of the range of the rifle, light was fading and although she was an okay shot, she wasn’t a brilliant marksman. She could miss. The thought made her pause. Then she’d have to spend the rest of tonight and probably all tomorrow trying to get near the injured creature again, a creature who might succumb to infection if the poacher didn’t find him—and her—first.

  She lowered the rifle. “I need to get closer.” She took a step forward, but the soldier put a hand on her arm, pulling her to a stop.

  “Give it to me.”

  “Are you good enough?” Her gaze skimmed his gear. He had some sort of mean-looking rifle strapped over his should
er and a handgun holstered to his thigh. He wore them with the same ease she wore boots.

  Of course he’s good enough. She handed him the gun. She had nothing to lose.

  “Are the sights set properly?”

  She nodded. “Josef set them up.”

  “Who’s Josef?” He paused for a second and looked at her through the corner of one eye.

  Impatience made her muscles tense. “My research assistant.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “He used to be in the Danish Army before he started studying for a Ph.D.”

  The rifle settled into the hollow of the guy’s shoulder. “This Josef thought it was a sane idea for you to come here on your own even though there’s a hunter killing your leopards?”

  “I’m his boss; he does what he’s told.” Unlike some people. Axelle stared pointedly at G-man. “Take the shot or give me back the rifle.”

  The hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth. “I bet poor old Josef didn’t stand a chance.” He slowly squeezed the trigger.

  She flinched as the leopard jerked to his feet, his long tail whipping in a tight circle, looking for his attacker. He’d been hit.

  “Good job.” She searched the saddlebags for the sutures, antibiotics, antidote, along with a blanket. She thrust the reins at Dempsey before pulling her headlamp onto her head. “Hold the horse while I do this, okay”

  There wasn’t time to wait for a response. She headed up the hillside, scrambling over rocks that kept giving way under her feet. It wasn’t high, but the last bit was a rocky, difficult climb, the slippery talus hampering her progress. By the time she got to him, G-man was flat-out snoring.

  She covered him, then examined the wound on his hind leg. A four-inch gash that could have come from getting clipped by a bullet or from an altercation with another cat. It wasn’t deep, just dirty and bloody. She cleaned out the wound with alcohol swabs, injected antibiotics and ripped open the suture packet with her teeth. First, she held the torn muscle together and stitched them with dissolvable thread. Then she did another row to repair the outer layer of skin. The thick purple stitches looked unnatural on a wild animal but hopefully they’d be enough to let the wound heal and not turn septic. Three-legged snow leopards didn’t survive this brutal terrain.

  She started work on the collar but the electronic mechanism seemed to have malfunctioned. Dammit. She pulled out her knife and inserted it into the lock to try to pry it open. All of a sudden she realized the gentle rhythmic breathing of the leopard had altered, and muscles that had been slack and lax beneath her fingers were now rigid.

  The cat was coming around. She fought frantically with the collar only to freeze when G-man’s eyes opened and fixed on her with an enraged gaze. Frantically, she hacked at the jammed mechanism. Suddenly the cat whirled, lightning fast. She fell back and hit her head on the ground, white light blazing behind her lids followed by a sharp searing pain as inch-long claws sank in to her skin. She cried out and grabbed the animal’s small ears, holding the feline head away from her throat where his gleaming white teeth were aiming for her jugular. There was pain and confusion in his eyes, and a healthy dose of pissed-off alpha male.

  The sound of falling rocks alerted her to the fact she wasn’t alone.

  “Don’t hurt him!” she yelled at Dempsey, whose silhouette she could just make out looming toward her in the dusk.

  The man cursed as he put away his pistol. G-man rolled his eyes at the soldier but kept both front paws hooked into her flesh and those ice-white canines bearing down on her neck. Her arms shook with the effort of holding him off.

  “We’ve got to get the collar off him before we chase him away.” She was trembling from pain and fatigue but if they didn’t get the collar off, every scratch would be for nothing. And it hurt too much to waste.

  “You are fucking nuts, lady.” Dempsey grabbed the blanket and threw it over the cat. G-man retracted his claws—thank, God—and turned to face this new threat. Dempsey got the blanket wrapped around the cat’s body, but not before the leopard raked his arm. He used his weight to pin the cat down, the same way he’d pinned her down earlier. Then he leaned back to avoid the claws and that treacherous mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Once he had the blanket secure, Axelle climbed shakily to her feet.

  Pain stabbed her body. Each scratch stinging like a row of angry barbs. “Wow. I’m actually glad you’re here.”

  “Damned by faint praise but I knew I’d grow on you eventually.” He flashed her a grin that transformed his face into handsome. “You are going to tranquilize him, right?” He looked suddenly nervous and the muscles in his arms were taut with strain.

  She spotted her horse trotting over the crest of the ridge, clearly on his way home. “Oh, shit. There goes the horse.”

  “It was the horse or you, lady. Did I make the wrong choice?”

  Axelle’s knees wobbled as she dropped to the ground beside the soldier. “Hold him still while I get this collar off.”

  “I am holding him still.” His voice was low and tight, revealing the enormous physical effort he was putting into immobilizing the leopard.

  It took another minute, by which time the soldier was grunting and cursing. Axelle concentrated hard until the lock finally popped and dropped away.

  “Get behind me so I can let this bastard go.” The soldier’s voice was rough in her ear. She hadn’t registered they were pressed tight against one another on the small ledge, and suddenly she was aware of every square inch of body contact.

  Dempsey kept hold of the blanket as they both jumped back. G-man hissed and snarled. The soldier’s right hand slipped to the butt of his pistol and Axelle stepped forward and waved her hands at the leopard, who seemed frozen in place, confused from either anesthetic or shock.

  “Go on. Get out of here.” She thrust her arms high over her head and made herself as tall as possible, yelling at the stressed-out creature. G-man shot off up the cliff, into the twilight. Her throat ached. “I want him scared of humans,” she murmured as the leopard bounded up and over the ridge and was gone. “Not thinking we might be good to eat. Otherwise we’ll never get locals to support our conservation efforts.”

  “Never mind the poor sod who ends up as dinner.”

  She huffed out a weary breath. “They don’t attack people.”

  Dempsey raised one brow and touched one of the rips on her clothes. She shrugged away from him. She was cold now. Very cold.

  “That wasn’t his fault.” She picked up the collar and ran the tough fabric through her fingers. Frustration ate at her. She hated sabotaging her most important research project because of someone else’s greed.

  But she should be ecstatic. Despite everything, with the help of this soldier, she’d treated and released G-man. He should be safe from the most imminent threat to his survival. But it was a long walk home, and she still had other leopards to save. The weight of responsibility pressed down upon her, made her feel small, insignificant, worthless.

  And the soldier watched her.

  With shaking hands she gathered her supplies and pulled the blanket over her shoulders to try to get warm. The cold had seeped into the marrow of her bones, and the fierce breeze had developed a wicked edge. Adrenaline evaporated, leaving every one of her scratches singing in pain.

  Dempsey followed her as she climbed awkwardly down the hillside. She got to the bottom of the path and shivered, knowing she was only going to get colder at this altitude. Her breath condensed and her toes had begun to tingle, more from shock than cold. If she stayed out here, high in the Hindu Kush with only a blanket, she’d be lucky to keep all her fingers. She needed the soldier’s help to survive and didn’t know how to ask for it. She’d once spent thirty hours screaming for help and it had got her nowhere.

  “You think this poacher is following your animals using these collars, right?” Dempsey reached out and took the radio/GPS collar from her hand, examining it thoroughly in the light of her headlamp.

  “Yeah. We don
’t know for sure, but we think he’s killed two, possibly three of our leopards.” Anguish tightened the muscles in her throat. “They’re almost impossible to find normally. He has to be using the signals.” The light of her head torch bobbed as she spoke. He reached up. She flinched but he fumbled around in her hair and found the Off button. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and she swayed. He held her by the shoulders as if anticipating her disorientation. It was disconcerting to realize she liked the feel of his strong hands holding her up.

  “Give it a minute and your night vision will kick in.” His fingers were warm through her shirt. Then he moved them up and down like someone reassuring a child, and she yelped in pain as he caught some of her wounds.

  “Shit. Sorry. I forgot he nailed you back there.” His grip loosened but he didn’t let her go. Just as well because she’d have fallen flat on her face. Her knees were shaking as the aftereffects of the encounter finally began to sink in.

  “I heard two shots in close succession this morning.” He paused, clearly turning thoughts over in his mind. “But the poacher didn’t chase after the leopard we just caught even though it was injured.”

  “Maybe you scared him away?” Her teeth chattered.

  “I’d have spotted him.” His confidence was tangible even in the twilight. Not cocky. Just sure of his abilities. “Is it possible two leopards could be in the same place at the same time—or close enough that he could have taken pot shots at both cats at the same time?”

  Mating season happened in winter so it was too late for that. She frowned. “We’ve found some evidence the leopards follow one another around. Generally males, checking on rival males.” There had only been one collar in the valley when G-man had been shot this morning, but an uncollared cat could have been there too. Her brain was moving lethargically, fatigue slowing her down. “If he spotted an uncollared leopard or maybe a markhor—they’re worth a lot of money too—he’d have gone for them first, knowing he can track the collared animal later.