by Aimée Thurlo
It was then that she truly began to understand Ranger. He saw his ability to challenge the winds of change as the road to harmony and happiness. In contrast, she’d always seen home and her familiar routines as the path to security and well-being. But all those had ever given her was the illusion of safety.
Before she could think about this further, she heard Ranger’s cell phone ring and saw him answer, clutching the small phone hard in his hand. A heartbeat later, he grinned widely and Dana knew Ranger’s brother was alive.
EXCITEMENT AND RELIEF swept through Ranger as he heard his brother’s voice.
“I’m in one piece” came the announcement from Hunter.
“What’s happened?” Ranger asked. “All I knew was that your cell had been found next to an unidentified victim.”
“The sniper took out one of our people. I was there, managed to follow and track them, and got the spotter-the other half of the sniper team. But I lost the cell phone and, until now, I didn’t have a way to contact you.”
“The spotter…is he dead?”
“He died from his wounds, but not before he talked. He said you’re not the target, the woman is, which means they haven’t confirmed who you are. But they’ve been tracking you via the GPS system in your truck. They have an informant in the company that manufactured it, courtesy of Trujillo ’s money. They know exactly where you are now.”
“We’re in a secure location,” Ranger insisted.
“I know how you think, and I’ve got a good idea of where you are. But, Wind, this sniper is good. He’s got military training-the way he teamed up with a spotter proves that. He’s also a master at camouflage. I only saw him after he’d taken the shot. If he comes after you, you may never see him coming.”
“Did you?”
There was a pause. “No, but I sensed him, which is why I’m the one who survived his attack.”
“I’ll be ready.”
After he hung up, Ranger pulled Dana down into a shady spot, lowering their profile by half, and filled her in on the conversation. “The best way to survive a sniper’s attack is to be more patient than he is. We’ll need a good hiding place where we can lay low. He can only shoot at what he sees. A sniper keys on your movements. If we can outlast him, it’ll be his own movements that’ll reveal his location.”
“You have a rifle with a scope. How accurate are you with that thing?”
“I can hit a soup can at three hundred yards nine out of ten times. I’m accurate on larger targets beyond that range, too, depending on the wind, the lighting and other variables. But keep in mind that this man will have a lot more experience than I do factoring in the conditions. He’s supposed to be a master when it comes to camouflage, too. He won’t be easy to spot, and forget about hearing him. He’ll move slowly and carefully once he locates the pickup.”
Ranger brought out his binoculars and surveyed the area below.
“Do you see him?” she asked after several minutes had gone by.
“No, but I can feel him down there. He’ll work his way up slowly through the rockslide, from shadow to shadow. It’s what I would do.” He took a deep breath then chanted softly. “In the trail of beauty…” he began and as his voice rose above a whisper, the eagle stirred and took flight.
She soared free, turning in a tight circle, then swooped down over an outcropping where boulders the size of truck tires had tumbled down the mountain. She dove almost to the surface, then turned sharply, catching an updraft and spiraling up into the sky. She then glided back to her cliff-side nest with little effort.
“Ahéhee’,” he said, thanking her, but his words were nothing more than a stirring in the wind.
“Did you…did she…no, that’s impossible…isn’t it?”
Ranger never answered. He trained his binoculars on the area the eagle had pinpointed for him. He watched for perhaps five minutes, holding perfectly still. “Got you now,” he muttered at last.
“You saw him?”
“He’s hidden among the rocks at the lower end of that outcropping. All I caught was a flicker of movement as he crawled from one shadow to the next. But that was enough. My guess is that he already knows where we are, too, or at least where we went, and he’s angling for a clear line of sight.”
“So what do we do? We can’t stay up here forever,” she said, “and if we drive back down, we’ll go right past him.”
“We’ll need to draw him out. I won’t be able to get a shot where he is right now.”
“I can’t shoot, but I can get his attention,” she said, forcing her voice to remain firm and clasping her hands together so he couldn’t see them shaking. “When he gets close enough to take a shot at me, just get him first.”
“No.”
“Is there another way?”
He paused. “Not that I can think of right off the bat.”
“Then we have no choice,” she said.
“It’s too risky. Forget it.”
“I’m not a risk taker. You already know that. But I trust you. We can set him up. To take a shot at me he’ll have to expose himself. You won’t miss. Now tell me how to make that happen,” she said.
He said nothing for several long moments. “There’s one way to do this without placing you in any more danger than you’re already in. We’ll go up onto the ridge, letting him see us only long enough for the movement to register in his vision-a second, nothing more. We’ll have to make it look casual, like we don’t have a clue he’s out there and we’re just talking. Once we’re behind cover and can’t be seen anymore, I want you to keep talking, like we’re still together. And light a small fire, too-like we’re keeping warm, so he can register on the smoke and the sound.”
Ranger stood, slung the rifle over his shoulder and took her hand. “Let’s move now. Don’t look back, but don’t stop, either.”
She followed him closely, fighting the urge to look back where the sniper had been just a few minutes ago. “Where will you be?”
“I’m going to circle around, figure out where he’ll have to position himself to shoot at you and wait to ambush him. You need to sit down low and place the rifle to your left with the barrel up.”
“If he sees the rifle, he’ll think you’re with me…?”
“Exactly. As a sniper, he’ll never believe I’ve given up my long-range weapon, particularly in terrain like this where it would be most effective.”
“You’ll have your pistol, right?”
Ranger nodded, then slipped a small lighter into her pocket, and handed her the rifle. “Make that small fire using sticks and branches you can reach without getting up again. If it burns out, okay, it’s just for show, anyway. Under no circumstances do you stand up or move from your position until I come to get you.”
“I might be able to use this rifle, but how will I know if you need help?” she asked.
“I appreciate the offer, but stick with the plan.” He pointed to a low spot in the rocks that overlooked the landslide below. A stunted evergreen stood at the far side. “That’s a good spot for you.” He stopped, then brought out the cell phone and handed it to her. “Order us a pizza.”
She smiled. “Just come back, okay?”
“Always. Gotta go, so keep talking.”
Ranger moved off quickly and disappeared behind some trees that had managed to grab hold in the rocky ridge.
Trying to keep her voice from cracking as she talked, Dana went to the spot among the rocks, the rifle her only companion.
ALTHOUGH HE’D HATED leaving Dana with danger closing in, he’d had no other choice. He moved silently, listening to messages from Wind. Since the breeze was blowing toward him, he would be able to hear even the slightest shift in the rocks and coarse gravel, but his opponent wouldn’t.
Ranger moved downhill and to the right, taking a position in the recess below a rock overhang where he’d be hidden from anyone approaching from downhill. Taking out his.45 pistol, Ranger released the safety, crouched low, then waited, absolutely still.
In the distance, he could hear Dana’s voice, though her words were indistinguishable.
Time passed slowly. Ranger couldn’t risk a look down at his watch, but he noted the change in shadow lengths as the sun dropped lower toward the western horizon. It would be dark before long, and though the sniper was obviously being very careful, the man would have to make his move before then.
Studying the area, he spotted a shadow up ahead between him and where Dana was now sitting. Then he saw the brim of his enemy’s boonie cap. As quietly as he could, Ranger raised his pistol and squeezed the trigger. The sound was deafening, not just the blast of the pistol, but the clang as the big.45 slug struck the receiver of the sniper’s rifle.
Ranger was out of the hole within two seconds, his pistol pointed right into the eyes of the sniper. He heard the clank of his opponent’s rifle as it hit the ground, but Ranger’s gaze stayed on his sights and the man’s sweating face just beyond.
“On your knees, hands locked behind your head,” Ranger ordered. Then, moving to the side, he took the sniper’s knife out of its sheath. Ranger circled the man, searching for any other weapons that might be visible, then had the man empty his pockets and remove his bootlaces so he couldn’t run anywhere easily.
“Dana, it’s okay now. Come help me secure the prisoner,” he called out.
She was there within two minutes, breathing hard, a smile of relief on her face. As she pointed the rifle at the sniper, Ranger used the handcuffs the man had carried in his pockets, no doubt to secure Dana, to position his prisoner’s hands behind his back. He took the handcuff key off the key ring and put it in his own pocket.
Once the prisoner was secured, Ranger got his cell phone back from Dana and contacted his brother, who’d already sent backup from Thoreau, a small community to the south.
“A tribal officer and the state police are coming up the mountain and will soon be joining you and take custody of the prisoner,” his brother said. “Once you’ve handed him over, go back to Shiprock via Gallup. You’ll need to meet with Agent Harris. Xander Glint, the man involved in the original kidnap plot, is now out of ICU and able to talk.”
“Has he said anything?”
“Not from what I’ve heard. But once you’re on the scene you’ll know more.”
Dana handed Ranger his rifle, then walked over and stood in front of the sniper. She met his expressionless gaze and held it. “You weren’t involved in the kidnapping, but you’re still a killer,” she said, then slapped him hard. “That’s for hiring out to the man who murdered a dear friend of mine.”
The man spat out a curse and tried to stand, but Ranger brought his rifle up and aimed it at the man’s forehead. “Don’t even think it.”
The man froze, then sagged back down to his knees, his head lowered.
“You’re getting off easy,” Dana said. As she looked over at Ranger, all she saw on his face was approval…and admiration.
Chapter Seventeen
Two hours had passed since they’d turned over their prisoner to the officers. They were driving north on the main highway when Ranger’s cell phone rang. Even without looking he knew it would be his brother.
Ranger listened to what Hunter had to say, then answered. “That’s good to hear,” he said. He hung up, then glanced over at Dana and brought her up to date.
“It seems our sniper, who’ll only give his first name-Willie-is more than eager to spill his guts. But he wants to deal.”
“Let’s go see if we can listen in on the interrogation. Maybe I can help somehow. We should be safe there, too. Trujillo won’t come for me at the station.”
As she said it, Dana realized how much she’d changed. Faced with nonstop danger and unpredictability, she’d found new strength. Dana glanced over at Ranger, who looked as tired as she felt, and began to see their relationship in a new light. Although what was happening between them held no guarantees of a happily ever after, life was offering her a precious gift-but it wasn’t forcing it on her. She could accept it, or walk away as soon as she could.
“We’ve become a good team,” Ranger said, his eyes on the road, but his hand reaching over to cover her own.
She smiled. “I know you’re more comfortable acting off-the-cuff, but I’ve got to give you credit. You can certainly come up with a plan when it’s needed.”
“Back there, my one priority was keeping you safe. That took planning. Had it been just me, I might have handled it differently. But you were involved and that changed everything.”
A rainbow of warm, gentle feelings filled her. “I couldn’t have asked for a better guardian.”
“I know. I’m a man of many talents,” he said with a wicked grin, his voice low and seductive.
“Yes, but where would you be without the inspiration I provide?” she answered, trying to keep a straight face.
He laughed, a booming, deep sound that was infectious.
The drive back was uneventful and long. When they finally pulled into the Shiprock police station Dana sat up and gestured ahead.
“There’s the sniper,” she said.
The prisoner, his feet in shackles and his hands cuffed in front now, was being escorted into the building by a state police officer and a tribal cop.
Ranger and Dana went in a moment later and found Agent Harris waiting for them in the lobby. “The prisoner is being taken to an interrogation room, and I’m going to question him myself,” he said. “The deal he wants isn’t going to happen, but if he wants to avoid a potential life sentence, his only choice is to cooperate. I’ll bring that up, and hope he sees the light.”
“I hear Xander Glint is conscious now, too,” Ranger said.
Harris nodded. “Once we’re through here, we’ll head to the hospital.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Dana and Ranger stood outside the one-way glass as Harris questioned the seated suspect, who was without handcuffs now but still wearing leg irons.
Harris rose from his own chair, walked around the room once, then stopped abruptly and leaned over the prisoner. “Your prints are being processed, and your photo is being taken to every gun dealer in the area. You’ll be recognized, and if you have a rap sheet, we’ll know that, too. So why don’t you stop wasting my time? What’s your real name-all of it.”
“William George Franklin,” he answered. “Willie.”
“Okay, Willie. Who hired you?”
“Hired? Nobody hired me,” he countered. “I was out hunting ground squirrels when some Indian with a forty-five ambushed me. He shot at me, held a pistol to my head, then tied me up. Then he called in some cop friends, and they hauled me here on some phony assault charge. Is anyone taking care of my Jeep? I left it parked down the mountain a few miles. If it gets stolen, I’m going to sue that Indian and his entire tribe.”
“We’ve got an eyewitness that saw you leaving a murder scene with a rifle. That witness’s testimony will carry some serious weight. He was the one who neutralized your spotter,” he said, careful not to use Hunter Blueeyes’s name. “I also have two more people here at the station who’ll happily testify against you-the pair that you were stalking up in the mountains before they brought you down. The bullets that killed two Navajo men have been recovered, too, and once we match them to your rifle, you’re looking at life in prison. So what’ll it be? Turn state’s evidence now, or rot in prison for the rest of your life?”
“I want full immunity before I say anything else.”
“I want to win the lottery. It looks like we’re both out of luck,” Harris spat out.
“Then forget about it. I’m not saying another word until I talk to a lawyer. I know my rights.”
Dana watched him, anger seething inside her. “I’ve about had it with this jerk,” she whispered furiously.
Ranger chuckled softly. “Easy. Let Harris work a little longer. He’s got a reputation for getting things done. He’s just got his own style, that’s all.”
Dana focused on the two men inside the room. Harris walked back to h
is chair, sat down, then leaned back casually.
“You’ll be serving time-hard time, and most likely in a federal prison. I can’t do anything about that, but twenty years, even twenty-five, is better than life. Ten minutes of truth can save you decades in a cell with a mean, ugly, sweaty roommate named Chuck. Give me a reason to tell the DA that you cooperated. That’s my final offer.”
“Yeah, that and three-fifty will get me a cup of coffee,” Willie spat out. “Do your best. You’ve got nothing on me but lies.”
“You’re going down, Franklin, and you know it as well as I do.”
Willie held Harris’s gaze, then finally his eyes narrowed. “If I decide to cooperate, will I get protection?”
“You’ll be guarded around the clock until we put the ones you’re working for behind bars.”
Willie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk between them. “I know you want a name, but I never asked and he never offered one.”
Harris reached into his jacket pocket and brought out three photos, laying them on the table in front of Willie. “Is the man who hired you among these?”
Willie glanced down and picked out the photo on the end. “That’s him, but he’s older now, and has a mustache. After he handed over half the money, he said I’d have someone watching me while I worked. If I failed to kill the bodyguard and take the woman-by tonight-I’d be as good as dead.”
Dana looked over at Ranger. “That’s why he had the handcuffs,” she whispered. “You were supposed to be killed. I was going to be kidnapped again.”
Ranger nodded, remembering his brother’s report.
They both looked back through the glass as Harris continued.
“He can’t get at you here. You’ll be in a tribal jail cell by yourself,” Harris said, holding up Ignacio Trujillo’s photo so they could see it on the other side of the glass.
“No, man, you don’t get it. The dude’s bad, and he’s rich. He’s got bodyguards who’ll slit your throat for a six-pack of warm beer. With his money he’ll find someone willing to stick a screwdriver in my back.”
