by Debra
“I’ll be damned,” he said, catching a few words that confirmed the men were climbing nearby.
“They’re following us straight down the cliff face,” she whispered. “Fools.”
“Either Lancaster’s opposed to more detours, or the guy who fell had something they need.”
Charly didn’t seem to be listening. She stared into the water as she moved upstream. “Wait a second,” she said.
He took a few long strides to catch up. “We have to reach the wreck ahead of them.” Ideally, he’d get the key, set a trap for Lancaster, then haul ass off this mountain and let the authorities deal with the mercenaries.
She knelt by the water and swiped a hand across a wet stone, then brought it to her nose. When she turned and held up her fingers, her bright smile made up for the weak sunlight. “It’s fuel.” She stood, held her hand to his nose. “Take a whiff.”
Whatever was on her hand smelled burned to him, as well. “Keep going.”
The voices faded behind them, forgotten as they searched swiftly for any evidence of the downed plane. She watched the water; he kept checking the treetops. The damn thing should’ve left a mark somewhere out here.
He turned back, and his stomach clutched to see the brutal, rocky cliff they’d scaled last night. Intimidating didn’t do it justice. Magnificent might’ve fit, if he hadn’t been busy trying not to puke. Ledge or not, they never should’ve survived that climb in the darkness.
Blind luck? Grace of God? Mother Nature in a benevolent mood? Will gave a mental shout of gratitude to the universe in general.
Unfortunately they were losing the advantage of the fog and would have to take cover or take more fire from Lancaster’s men.
“They’ll spot us soon,” he warned.
“This way,” Charly said, pointing to the trees on the facing slope.
When they were safely out of sight, she asked for his binoculars again. He used them first, getting a fix on Lancaster’s progress, then gave them to her.
“There.” She pointed, held her arm steady while he took a look. “See it?”
Finally, he did. Through the lenses it didn’t look like much more than a crumpled ball of paper caught in the rocks. “Could the wreck be downstream? In the water?” If so, Lancaster had regained the advantage.
“I doubt it. If the pilot lost control, that might be the first of a string of pieces that would lead to the crash site.”
“Heading downstream.”
“Cheer up,” she said, with more cheer than the situation called for. “I’ve heard search and rescue pilots talk.”
“So have I.” He could imagine well enough a pilot coming over the ridge and cartwheeling out of control. If beacon and key were together, they’d lost any advantage.
“There’s no sign of an explosion, so it didn’t get blown this direction.”
Her excitement, the renewed confidence gleaming in her eyes, roused his curiosity. “What are you getting at?”
“The small-aircraft pilots who fly up here,” she explained, “talk about getting tossed and battered by the shifting winds and hard shear all the time.”
“Which pushes pilots into this side.”
“Yes.” Her eyes were bright, eager. “I’m betting the wreck is near the upper tree line and only a bit farther downstream.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Lancaster isn’t any closer than we are. In fact, we can move faster because it’s just you and me. If he refuses to let them detour off the beacon’s signal, it will take them longer because of the tougher terrain.”
“This is easy terrain?”
“It’s all relative,” she said with a grin. “Besides, we’re younger, more fit, and I’m the area expert. Come on.”
Her fresh surge of energy boosted him, too. “Then let’s get this done.”
He thought she was part mountain goat the way she scrambled up the slope. His quads burned, and his lungs labored with the quick pace and thin air.
He didn’t mind. It was all good and the effort felt like real progress. A couple hours later they hadn’t reached the summit, but they had found another piece of the plane, this time part of the landing gear caught up high in a tree.
“That’s more like it,” he said.
“Yeah, we’re getting close,” Charly agreed. “And it’s recent, so it’s probably part of the plane you’re after.”
“Okay, the compass-for-a-heart thing I’ve seen firsthand. Last night proved well enough that you know every nook and cranny—literally—around here. But how can you tell how long ago that landed in the tree?”
“Easy. The cracked limbs would be brown and dead if it had hit more than a few days ago. It’s still green.”
“Of course.” It made sense. Surely he would’ve come to the same conclusion. If he’d thought it mattered. “Have I mentioned lately I’m glad you’re on my side?”
She pretended to check her watch. “Right on schedule.” Her saucy grin faded. “But a plane could go for miles without that wheel.”
He closed his eyes, imagining the rugged mountain trek ahead as miles of gentle, level ground. “In it to win it,” he said, sweeping an arm out for her to lead the way.
He told himself he appreciated competent people in any situation. Charly was a friend and despite being attracted, he really should take a step back. For her sake and his.
When this was done, Casey could ship him off to a new assignment in another town. It was how a task force worked. The last thing Will wanted was one more tally in the loss column.
Fellow SEALs and his brother dead, his parents shutting him out—all of that was more than enough to manage. Which was why he didn’t dwell on what he couldn’t change. Being sad or pissed off didn’t bring back the dead, and in his experience it didn’t make coping any easier.
Work did that. Movement. Quantifiable progress in the form of successful ops or a cleared to-do list.
Leaving a woman as beautiful and interesting as Charly? No. He had enough common sense to avoid that disaster. He wasn’t ready for permanent and she deserved more than temporary.
A few paces ahead of him, he saw the misstep, could only watch as her foot slipped and she landed on her hip. She slid down the slope like a runner into third, using a tree trunk to stop herself.
“Safe,” he teased, offering his hand to help her up. She put her hand in his, and he felt the jolt of awareness. Using him as anchor, she stood and suddenly their joined hands were trapped between their bodies.
Her face tipped up to his, her smiling lips so full and close. Another time, another place, he knew he wouldn’t have hesitated. The devilish voice in his head urged him to go for it. “You all right?”
“Sure.” Her gaze drifted to his mouth and then back to his eyes. “Slips happen.”
Physically, yes. But a slip of the personal variety couldn’t be allowed. He plucked a twig from her pack before it could tangle in her hair. “Better keep going.”
“Right.” She turned, resuming the steep hike with a little more caution.
It reminded him of the way she’d turned her back to him last night. For the first time since his brother’s death he wished he wasn’t so damned broken.
Chapter Fourteen
Charly stayed on edge the rest of the day, ever alert for the potential danger from the mountain or Lancaster’s advance. They’d stopped periodically to check the progress and as she’d anticipated, Lancaster’s stubbornness had turned into an advantage for Will’s cause.
As if that wasn’t enough mental gymnastics, she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to last night. Kissing Will, she’d felt something unlock. No one had ever made her feel that rush quite that way.
If he hadn’t been sensible last night, there would’ve been no stopping her. She should be grateful. Instead, it was taking a great deal of her energy to stay sensible when she wanted to jump him, to get her hands under those dark clothes and explore every honed inch of him. At this point she didn’t care if it ruined the friendsh
ip. She knew it would be worth it.
Except it wouldn’t be. She respected him—more, she respected herself. He’d been right; they’d both been running on adrenaline and the thrill of survival. It was challenging enough to keep her mind on the various tasks ahead of her today and they’d only shared a kiss. Mind-blowing, but a kiss.
If they’d had sex, she’d probably be flitting about in a fog of her own making.
Her brain kept dancing through her every personal encounter with him. Hoping to put an end to the merry-go-round of it, she told herself she wouldn’t let him talk his way out of another chance should it present itself.
She might not have as much experience as other women her age, but she wasn’t an idiot. She knew Will was attracted to her. Knew he felt the chemistry simmering between them. A man just looking to add to his high score didn’t take the time Will had taken with her. Before they’d hiked into this escalating situation.
“How are you doing?”
His voice lifted the hair at the back of her neck. “Fine.” She carefully turned. “Do you need a break?”
Half a grin tilted his mouth up at one corner. “I’m good.”
Yeah, she had to agree. With his jacket open and sweat dampening his shirt, molding the fabric to his muscled torso. She told herself the simmer of heat under her skin was an asset against the cooler temperature.
While he checked Lancaster’s progress with the binoculars, she indulged in a long, cool drink from her canteen. “Hungry?”
He shrugged. “Sure.” He accepted the beef jerky she offered. “Sounds like they’ve split up.”
“What?”
“More radio chatter.” He turned the dial and held it where she could hear it, too. “No need for radios if they’re together.”
“Damn it.”
“You said it,” he said. “Any ideas?”
Her thoughts scattered for a moment as he tipped his canteen back. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. Why was that so sexy? Her body temperature climbed. “Keep moving. We have to be getting close.”
He nodded as he capped his canteen. “I’ll keep the radio on.”
When they reached a place where they could walk side by side, she fought the reflex to take his hand. “What will you do when we get there?” she asked, desperate to keep her mind on the bigger issue.
“Assuming we get there first, I’ll take control of the device.”
“What does it look like?”
“I don’t know.”
Startled, she looked up at him, hoping he was kidding. The tension in his jaw, his gaze steady and aimed straight ahead, made her realize he was serious. “Great.”
“It can’t be too big, considering what it does.”
“Why would it be on a plane? Seems easier to just have it shipped,” she mused.
“Good question.”
“Is there anyone with the answer?”
He chuckled, the sound low and deep. “The answer’s irrelevant. However it happened, the thing is out here and it’s up to me—to us, now—to find it before Lancaster does.”
“You aren’t curious about the how and why?”
“Only as it relates to my operational success.”
“What does that mean?” It sounded irresponsible to her and nothing like the thoughtful, easygoing mailman he’d seemed to be back in Durango.
“Do you ask your customers why they want to take one excursion over another?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
He reached down without missing a stride and plucked a fallen twig from the ground. “Bad example.” He broke bits of dried bark from the twig as they walked on. “Remember when your parents would say, ‘because I said so’?”
“Of course. It’s a universal curse.”
“Right. Well, there are times when military ops are simply a matter of pointing a team with a certain skill set at an objective. We take that objective because our commander said so.”
“I guess I know that, logically. But it’s a tough leap since I knew you first as my mailman.”
He smiled down at her. “I know how to think for myself, but during an op what I think takes a backseat to what needs to get done.” He flipped her braid. “For the record, I’ve never done anything on an op or been with a team that took action that I later thought was unnecessary or excessive.”
Will watched her from the corner of his eye as she processed that information. A military mind-set didn’t appeal to everyone. Not even everyone in the military. Why did he have such an issue with wanting her to understand him? It was dangerous, thinking of her as more than a civilian in harm’s way.
Right now, in life-or-death circumstances, was the worst time to let things spiral out of control emotionally or physically. He was about to say as much when the radio crackled.
By tacit agreement, Charly and Will stopped to listen. The bickering was tense and ugly on both sides. Scott’s injury was slowing them down and apparently the tracking device was giving them mixed signals.
“Echoes,” she explained, then slapped a hand over her mouth as though Lancaster might hear her.
Will had to work hard not to laugh. At both her innocence and the target’s unraveling. Impatient, Lancaster had sent Max and James to scout ahead and they’d only managed to get themselves lost.
“The plane’s between us,” she whispered.
“Or the beacon is.”
She curled her lip, clearly unhappy with that reminder. “Let’s hurry.”
“Won’t argue with that.”
“We’ll make better time if we hike up above the trees.”
“But based on what we’ve found, the crash is down in here with us.”
“And heading straight for the beacon is working so well for him.”
She had a point. He looked around, as if the plane would suddenly materialize in front of them. “We could be sitting ducks up there,” he said, thinking of the sniper they’d had to avoid yesterday.
She planted her hands on her hips. “Trust me?”
“Absolutely.”
The word was barely past his lips before she was off like a shot, scrambling for the top of the ridge. Shaking his head, he went after her.
* * *
IN THE EVENING, Charly paused just long enough to appreciate a fiery sunset that deserved more than a few seconds of admiration. A day that had started in a soft blur of gray drifted to a close amid broad swipes of orange and purple across the endless sky. Another day, she told herself, with a tall cold beer in one hand, she and Will would have nothing to do but watch the sun kiss the sky good-night.
Tonight, they were racing against the encroaching darkness. If they stopped now and waited until morning, they’d lose the small advantage they’d gained today. She wouldn’t let it happen; for Will’s op, Clint’s honor and her own pride, she was determined to beat Lancaster.
At last they stumbled onto the track of the plane’s fatal descent. Together they picked their way over downed limbs and broken trees until they reached the mangled rudder. A few yards ahead, she saw more of the tail and fuselage. Without a flashlight, she couldn’t be sure about the wings or cockpit.
“Watch it.” Will caught her arm, drew her around a twisted wheel and strut before she tripped. “Let’s search what we can without the flashlights.”
Through the radio, they’d been keeping tabs on Lancaster’s progress. Max and James had been pointed in this direction, and odds were good they’d soon be dealing with unwelcome company.
She’d gotten into the habit of stroking the hilt of the knife sheathed at her hip as they’d hiked out today. Now, with both of them having gone silent, she drew it, mentally daring Max or James to make a move. She had no idea how Will intended to find anything in the dark. Then again, he’d made it clear this wasn’t the time for questions—obvious or otherwise.
From down the hill, on the opposite side of the wreck, a beam of light sliced through the shadows and she stilled. Will tapped her shoulder. “Go.”
S
he shook her head, not trusting her voice.
“Let me take this.”
She shook her head again.
“Go back to the ridge. I’ll find you.”
The voices were clearer now, the excitement coming through. Max and James had made good time without the injured Scott and older Lancaster.
“Go.”
It wasn’t a suggestion—he expected her to follow it like an order. She took a step back as he moved forward. “I’ll take your pack.” If he was going two against one, or thought he was, he needed to be mobile.
With a frown, he shrugged out of the straps, dropping it silently at her feet.
She had the ridiculous urge to wish him luck, or even kiss him goodbye. Instead, seeing the light of a hunter in his eyes, she eased back into the shadows.
It was harder going with two packs, more of a challenge to move without making a sound, but she managed. Will didn’t need to be worrying about her when he was up against two well-armed men who’d proven themselves ruthless.
Part of her wanted him to kill them both, while another part prayed they’d get out of here without being noticed at all.
When she was well back from the wreckage, but not anywhere near the ridge where he wanted her to hide, she looked for a good place to stow the packs. Somewhere they could find them if they had to make a run for it. Not if, when, she amended. Whether he took out both of them or not, with Lancaster nearby a hurried escape was inevitable.
Will could complain later, but she wasn’t leaving him without some kind of backup. Knife in hand, she crept back down the slope.
Two beams of light roved over the plane and she knew Will was somewhere at the edge, waiting for his opening.
A loud snap of a boot on debris interrupted Max and James and the men aimed light into the surrounding forest.
If Will had done that it wasn’t by mistake.
She tipped her head back and let loose a long wolf howl.
A moment later, a wolf answered her call. Max and James exchanged some harsh words, reaching for weapons or radios. The radio she and Will had taken when they’d left Jeff and Bob at the waterfall was still clipped to Will’s belt. Had he remembered to turn it off? She moved closer, ready to leap into the fray if it gave away his position. But gunfire erupted from the trees—from Will—and James and Max hit the ground, searching for cover, too preoccupied to get off a call for help.
