Tactical Rescue

by Maggie K. Black

  At least they hadn’t wanted Zack dead. He’d been so focused on securing the road, he hadn’t secured the forest. Not that securing endless trees was the easiest thing for one man to do.

  Still, it’s my fault for still thinking of these woods as my home turf, in good old Northern Ontario, instead of realizing I’m now in hostile territory.

  He started back down the road toward Rebecca’s camper, striding quickly but silently, praying hard he’d find her safe. None of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t let himself become distracted thinking about her.

  Yes, he’d had no backup, hadn’t expected a shooter in the woods. Plus Jeff had been deeply concerned, and the connection had been so terrible he’d been straining to hear him. All of which had contributed to his failure. But none of that changed the fact that he’d let this thing with Rebecca become personal. Something about the curve of her smile, the scent of her hair, the way his skin almost shivered whenever her hand brushed his—just being around Rebecca again made him feel as if there was still some leftover youthful attraction for her trapped somewhere deep inside him and he didn’t know how to shut it off.

  If Rebecca got hurt, or worse, because he hadn’t kept his feelings in check, he’d never forgive himself.

  He heard the truck engine. Voices shouting. Then Rebecca’s screams seem to split the air. He ran toward the sound. “Hang on! I’m coming!”

  The truck crashed through the trees toward him. Rebecca was hanging out of the open driver’s-side door. Her feet were braced on the running board. One hand clenched the edge of the open sunroof. Her other hand fought for the steering wheel. It was one of the craziest, gutsiest, most foolhardy things he’d ever seen.

  Hang on, Rebecca, I’m coming.

  Tree branches smacked against her body. Zack leaped into the path of the truck and raised both arms. The truck didn’t stop.

  “Zack!” Rebecca shouted. “It’s Seth! Don’t let him get away!”

  Oh, I don’t intend to.

  But the truck was still moving and Rebecca was still hanging on to the side. If he had to get hit by a truck to stop Seth and save Rebecca’s life, he would. Seth’s eyes met Zack’s through the windshield. The traitor’s eyes narrowed. Then Seth hit the brakes. The truck slowed to a stop. Thank You, God. Zack ran for Rebecca and reached for her hand. “Let go. It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

  Seth hit the gas. The truck flew forward again and swerved out onto the road. Zack threw himself backward and barely avoided getting sideswiped by the camper as it flew past. The truck was now picking up speed on the pavement. Zack dashed after them.

  Then Seth wrenched the wheel from her grasp.

  Rebecca flew backward onto the road. The camper swung wildly on the trailer hitch. Metal storage boxes and camping equipment flew off the back of the truck.

  Prayer shot through Zack like lightning.

  It was all going to hit her.

  SIX

  Rebecca was rolling. Bouncing. Tossed against the pavement like a rag doll. She could hear the screech of tires coming toward her and smell the stench of hot metal and gasoline. Then she felt a warm body land on top of hers, holding her down, protecting her from the equipment and debris as it rained down around them. She curled into a ball, felt the rush of wind over their bodies and heard the sound of tires screeching in the distance. Then she felt the slow, steady beat of Zack’s heart.

  He rolled off her. “You’re okay.”

  She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees and stared down the road ahead. The tail end of the camper swerved wildly, fishtailing out from behind the speeding truck.

  Then it was gone.

  Her camper. Her truck. Her business. Her equipment. Her life.

  Stolen by her arrogant bully of a stepbrother.

  Her fists clenched and for a moment she didn’t know whether to scream or cry.

  “You’re okay,” Zack said again. He crouched beside her. His hand lightly touched the small of her back. “You’re strong. You’re tough. You’re going to get through this. I promise.”

  She glanced up at him and blinked back the tears threatening to spill down her cheek. How did he still know the exact right thing to say? He’d remembered that whenever she’d been tossed and thrown and felt like a failure the last thing she wanted was sympathy, and the first thing she needed was the reminder she was strong enough to get up and keep fighting—even as she could see worry for her well-being echoing in the depths of his eyes.

  She wiped her hand across her face. Then she reached for his hand and let him help her up. “Thank you.”

  “You took that roll well. Kept your head tucked in. Any injuries I should be aware of?”

  Now he sounded exactly like her old sparring partner.

  “Thank you,” she said again. They stood. For a moment she let her hand linger in his. Thanks for handling it this way. Like we’re equals. Two warriors. Two fighters. Instead of reminding me that you’re a special ops sergeant, and I’m the fool who just got her truck stolen. “I’m okay. More bumps and bruises to add to the last set. But I’m okay.”

  She pulled her hand away. He was standing there, his arms apart like he was waiting for her to fall into his chest for a hug. But they weren’t sparring partners anymore. They weren’t even friends. He was nothing but a man she used to know, who’d kept something from her, and it had just cost her everything she owned.

  “You knew about Seth from the very beginning. You knew he was the one who’d blown up the road.”

  Zack held her gaze and didn’t look away. “I did.”

  “So, what did he do?”

  “It might be unwise to tell you as it could jeopardize the police investigation when they question you.”

  “I don’t care!” She waved both hands through the air. “I’ve been attacked by gangsters. I’ve nearly been kidnapped. Seth just lied to my face and stole everything I own, leaving me stranded.” She reached for his hands and held them in both of hers. “Leaving us stranded, and I’m guessing that our lives are still in danger. So you can’t have this both ways, Zack. Not anymore. You can’t be my old best friend who I trust implicitly one moment, and then Mister Secret Ops keeping me in the dark the next. I don’t know if ‘on a need-to-know basis’ is a thing you guys actually say, but this is a need-to-know basis. And I need to know.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, like he didn’t know if he wanted to kiss her or throw both his hands up in exasperation again. Either way, she could feel a flush creep into her cheeks. She dropped his hands.

  He ran his hand over his jaw. A grin spread across his face.

  “Need-to-know basis,” he muttered. Then he slid his hands into his pockets. “Well, then, let’s walk and talk. Because if we have any hope of flagging down help it won’t be on this road. I still have my wallet and handcuffs, but no phone and no gun. How about you? Is there anything useful in the stuff that just got tossed off the back of your camper?”

  She shook her head. “No. Sadly. It’s all heavy-duty winter gear, and I don’t even have my wallet.”

  “I left my bag under the passenger seat in your truck,” he said, “and your minilaptop in the glove compartment. I’m presuming they’re still there?”

  “As far as I know,” she said. He frowned. “I presume that’s a bad thing?”

  “Yup, pretty bad.”

  They started walking. Zack didn’t seem in much of a hurry to start talking. Or maybe he just didn’t know where to start.

  “Seth showed up at the camper as I was busy packing it up,” she said. “Stupidly I let him get to my truck.”

  “He knocked me out while I was on the phone with my CO,” Zack said. “We were both caught off guard, and you didn’t know to distrust him.”

  True, but it was nice to hear him say it.

  “
Seth told me some big lie about how the General, Arthur Miles, my former stepfather, was up for a seat in the Senate and someone had anonymously posted this big blog about him online, accusing him of cheating on both of our mothers.”

  “That’s true,” Zack said.

  She blinked. “What part of it?”

  “All of it,” Zack said. “General Miles is expected to be appointed to the Senate this fall. Somebody did create a pretty distasteful blog about him recently, accusing him of philandering. It was disappointing. Our military is under enough pressure without someone stirring up twenty-or thirty-year-old gossip about the marital life of one of our top generals. Nobody likes it when somebody tries to drag down a hero. In my opinion, we need more people in the Senate like General Miles. Not fewer.”

  “Seth was telling the truth? Criminals want to kidnap me because someone is muckraking gossip about a man who was briefly my stepfather?”

  Zack didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The answer was in the cut of his jaw and the set of his shoulders.

  No, that wasn’t why police wanted to question her at all.

  “Please, Zack.” Her hand slid onto his arm. “We’re alone in the middle of nowhere. My life’s been threatened. Your life’s been threatened. Seth fed me some ridiculous sideshow story to distract me. I don’t see how keeping me in the dark is going to make either of us any safer. You used to be the one guy I trusted more than anyone else on the planet. So please, tell me straight, what’s really going on?”

  Zack stopped walking.

  “Do you think it’s easy for me to trust someone who won’t trust me?” he asked. His tone was gentle and somehow that made his words even harder to hear. “You know what we call people who refuse to let us help them? Liabilities. You make it sound like this is all one-sided, Becs. Like I’m the bad guy here. But you don’t listen to me when I try to have your back. You don’t let me protect you. You ran from me, more than once. You throw yourself into danger like you don’t have any other choice. You eavesdropped on my conversation and when you heard something that upset you, instead of asking me about it, you attacked me with bug spray—which was really clever, I’ll admit. You’re brave and I respect that. But that trust we used to have? We built it. Through every time you let me toss you on the mat and every time you let me aim a sparring blow at your face. You trusted I wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted I’d protect you. And now?” He shrugged. “Now, I wouldn’t spar with you, because you’d be so busy running around in circles and tossing wild punches it wouldn’t be safe. For either of us.”

  There was a sharp pain in her chest. But not like Zack’s words had pierced her. More like there’d already been something jagged caught deep inside her, and she’d gotten used to the feel of it, and now, it was being pulled out.

  “You’re right.” She let out a long breath. “And I’m sorry. But I don’t know what to do about it or how to fix it.”

  “Me, neither.”

  She stared at his face for a moment and tried to imagine all the days in his life that she’d missed. His first time in uniform. The mornings he’d gone running with his unit. The evenings he’d spent alone in the gym lifting weights. The moment he’d found out he’d been selected for special ops. The bullets and explosions he’d run through. The helicopters he’d jumped out of. The people he’d carried to safety.

  All the nights he’d lain awake, under foreign skies, praying to the God he believed in.

  She stepped toward him. His arms opened. And suddenly she felt her hands sliding up around his neck. His arms slid around her waist and settled into the small of her back. Then he lifted her up off the ground, just like he used to, and they held each other tightly for one long moment, as if they were trying to squeeze a thousand missing hugs into one. Then he set her back down. They kept walking.

  “Seth worked for a civilian computer firm that was updating government computers,” Zack said. “He stole something from one of the military computers he had access to. I honestly don’t know what it was, because whatever it was is above my pay grade. But it might be the computer program I took off him that’s currently sitting on your laptop. But sadly, we lost that when Seth stole the truck.”

  Suddenly the way Seth had been eyeing her equipment made sense. While they weren’t as high-grade as he was probably used to, he’d essentially just stolen a computer lab and video studio on wheels. A whole bunch of questions leaped to the tip of her tongue. She didn’t ask any of them. It was more that she was too numb to be angry or shocked.

  “It’s all over the news, as you can imagine,” he went on. “The son of a military hero and soon-to-be senator potentially stealing government secrets is a pretty huge deal. Like I told you, I was camping while on leave, saw it on the news and so drove straight up to make sure you were okay. I never imagined Seth would be up here. The news said it looked like he was heading southwest to a big city center like Seattle or Los Angeles.”

  He was quiet again for a moment, as if he was weighing words in his head and trying to decide whether or not to say them.

  “Your brother is also accused of shooting an unidentified woman in an Ottawa park,” Zack said finally. “She was shot in the stomach and is currently in critical condition.”

  Now the dull feeling inside her started to shift like an earthquake. “Seth’s not a killer.”

  “He’s wanted for attempted murder,” Zack said. “He’s also wanted for theft and suspicion of treason.”

  Hot tears pushed their way into the corners of her eyes. Seth was arrogant, rude and a bully. She still didn’t know what to make of the odd claim that he’d tried to protect her, and she could easily believe he was guilty of stealing something from a military computer. But killing a woman in cold blood? Seth’s eyes flashed through her memory, filled with both defiance and pain.

  The sun beat down on their limbs. The pavement felt heavy under her feet. After a while they left a small road and turned onto a larger rural highway. Very few vehicles passed them and even fewer slowed. She let Zack take the lead in flagging down anyone for help. Not surprisingly, Zack was incredibly cautious. He positioned himself between her and the road, and more than once at the sound of an engine stepped in front of her and urged her to step back into the trees.

  Finally, he flagged down a transport truck hauling cattle. The northern Quebecois driver didn’t speak much English, and Rebecca’s French was shaky beyond what she could remember from reading the sides of cereal boxes, so she had no choice but to let Zack take the lead in negotiating passage. Finally they climbed into the cab with a cheerful, white-haired driver, who introduced himself as “Bon Jacques.”

  “It’s a joke,” Zack explained, as he squeezed his large frame in between Rebecca and the passenger door. “See, ‘un bon jack’ in Quebecois French is like how we’d say in English, ‘He’s a good guy.’”

  She smiled at the driver, extended her hand and used the only French she could remember besides the words for “many” and “cornflakes.” “Merci.”

  Jacques nodded, his grin wide. “Welcome.”

  Then he pulled out a bottle of water and offered it to them. Rebecca took a long sip and handed it to Zack. They drove. The comforting smell of barnyard animals and hay filled the air. Zack slid his arm along the back of the seat. His fingers brushed her shoulder.

  “What did you tell him?” she asked.

  “That I’m a member of the Canadian Armed Forces, our vehicle was stolen and we need a ride. He’s not heading to Timmins, but has agreed to drop us off at the first gas station we pass.”

  Right. So that would make everything else “need to know.” The radio played music in French. Zack borrowed a phone from Jacques and when he got a cell signal placed a quick call to 911 to report that her vehicle had been stolen and that Seth Miles had taken it. No doubt that would send Ontario police scrambling. He also put in a quick call to his c
ommanding officer and left a brief message: Seth had attacked them. Seth had the laptop. He’d check in again soon.

  Zack hung up, then opened a map-based website and entered some coordinates. The truck rumbled down a narrow highway. The seats bounced beneath them. Jacques started humming along to the radio under his breath.

  Then Zack placed another call. The phone display read “Shield Trust.”

  The overseas technical charity? She’d heard of them. In fact, their name was on the list of the documentary projects she hoped to tackle one day. Mark Shields had come from a very wealthy background and given it up to found a technology-based charity that helped local groups in developing countries with innovative technical solutions.

  Sounded as if Zack had gotten his friend’s voice mail.

  “Hey, Mark. Long story, but I’m in Canada. Your neighborhood actually. Sorry for the short notice, but is there anyone at the island house now? I’ve hit a major snag and might need a place to regroup for a couple of hours. Love to Katie.” He hung up.

  Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Regroup?”

  Zack sighed. Then he leaned his head in toward her. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was really hoping I’d get through to Jeff. He was really upset during our last phone call and I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying. Considering we’re not that far from my friend Mark’s house, and everything that’s gone on in the past twenty-four hours, I thought it might not be the worst idea to head there and call Jeff. It was just a thought. But Mark might not even be in the country and it probably makes more sense to go straight to the closest police station.”