Exiled (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 4)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Likewise.” Harding took one last look at their new friends, then stepped up into the Suburban. “Okay, Randy, let’s hear what you’ve got.”

  “Sure thing.” He’d left the vehicle idling the whole time they’d been stopped.

  Once Harding slammed his door, Randy put his rig into gear, heading toward the cave that may or may not be where it was supposed to be. More and more every minute, Harding was regretting not calling in every member of Trident to help with this job.

  “I’ve been mulling this over,” Randy said, “and something we discussed last night doesn’t add up. You both mentioned Dude having a new map. Assuming that’s the one he showed me, it’s got a pretty huge flaw. But I’ve got a theory. Might be far-fetched, but remember how you said your grandparents’ condo was ransacked, as if someone were looking for something?”

  Olivia nodded.

  Harding asked, “Where are you going with this?”

  “Treasure maps for El Diablo’s Gold have been around since I was a little boy. Heck, I had at least a half-dozen versions of them by the time I reached puberty. But here’s the thing, not a single one of those maps had the X where your grandfather’s map placed it. The X is always at some sacred Navajo mystery cave or spring. But your grandfather’s map had it at the end of a slot canyon.”

  “So Dude had yet another version? I’m not seeing the correlation.”

  “Think about it.” Randy slammed the wheel with his palms. “This may be out there, but what if the map Dude bought was meant for someone else? What if he got ahold of it by accident? What if it wasn’t a map to gold and silver, but a very valuable bomb?”

  “Holy shit . . .” Harding turned his head in surprise. “Randy, I’ve gotta tell you, that makes sense. When whoever wanted that bomb discovered Dude and his map weren’t home, they followed his trail out here. Now our only question is whether they found him.”

  “I think they must have,” Olivia said, her voice reedy, as if laced with fear. “Otherwise, why would the colonel have mentioned them being exposed to the elements. Maybe he had them, and they got away?”

  “I’ll bet they did.”

  Randy whistled. “That could be good or bad. There’s a whole lot of nothing between here and town.”

  Olivia broke down.

  “Hey, we’ll find them. They’ll be okay.” Harding cupped his hand on her knee, but she swatted him away.

  “Stop saying that. They could be anywhere, cold and hungry. Dehydrated. Hurt. For all we know, they could already be dead.”

  “Doubt it,” Randy said.

  “How would you know?”

  “Look behind you.”

  The colonel and his four-vehicle convoy had loaded up and were now on their trail.

  “Why would they be following us?” she asked.

  “Only one reason I can think of,” Randy said. “They not only believe Dude and Shirley are alive, but that they just might unwittingly hold the key to whatever these guys are after.”

  11

  “THAT’S IT,” RANDY said after another hour’s drive. “Red Falls.”

  He parked fifty yards from a foreboding cliff that looked as if it had been stained blood red. Upon closer inspection, Olivia realized the wall was a solid chunk of rusty toned rock.

  “When it storms,” Randy raised his hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from early evening sun, “cascading water resembles blood. The Navajos say this is where the water serpent, Tieholtsodi, comes out to search for his stolen children. When they are nowhere to be seen, he cries blood tears.”

  “Thanks for the uplifting tale.” Olivia left the vehicle, needing a moment to herself.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected upon reaching the mountain where her grandfather’s treasure cave was supposedly located, but this feeling of total despair wasn’t it. If her grandparents had driven out here on their own, where was their car? Camping gear? Logic dictated that they couldn’t have just vanished, but they essentially had.

  At least Colonel and his crew were also gone. Olivia didn’t fool herself by thinking they’d stay gone, but at least she, Harding and Randy were temporarily out of immediate danger.

  Harding stepped up behind her.

  His radiant heat warmed her backside, making her want to turn, rest her cheek against his chest, and draw comfort from being held in his strong arms. But what good would that do? Momentary relief meant nothing in the face of losing her only remaining family.

  “Let me in, Liv. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking,” she said in a hard, cold tone she barely recognized as her own, “that we should probably search this whole area for clues.”

  “Agreed.”

  Clouds had covered the sun and a chilly north wind sent Olivia to the car for her hoodie. She and Harding were supposed to have gone to the store for new clothes, but here they were on day three or four—she honestly couldn’t remember—and she still wore the same filthy jeans, T-shirt and undergarments.

  Randy joined in the search for anything out of the ordinary.

  “Might make sense,” he said, “if we check out the other side, too. If there’s a cave, that’s where it would logically be.”

  Olivia began covering the rough terrain. Thorny brush snagged her jeans. Haphazard rock piles threatened her balance with each step. Thickening cloud cover turned the air cold enough to sear her lungs with each breath. Somewhere behind those clouds, the sun would soon be setting. She didn’t much like this place in the daylight. She had a feeling she’d hate it after dark.

  Finally, they rounded the falls’ western side.

  The sight that greeted her made her take off at a full run in excitement, only to fall to her knees in yet another defeat.

  A burgundy SUV had been parked beside a tent and stone campfire ring. From a distance, it made for a cozy scene, but the closer she got, the more her stomach churned until she was retching into a bush on the fringe of the wreckage. The Toyota 4-Runner had a rental car agency sticker on the back, but in its current state, the vehicle would not be returned. All four doors gaped open, and much like her grandparents’ condo, the vehicle had been ransacked. The upholstered seats had been knifed open. Door panels pried off. Carpet removed. The fabric ceiling shredded. Even the engine had been searched. Parts littered the ground.

  Harding had been rummaging in the glovebox and under the seats. “It was Dude and Shirley’s. Found this in the center console.”

  He handed her a pink copy of a rental agreement.

  She saw her grandparents’ names and lost it. “Who would do this? Why?”

  Harding pulled her into a hug, and she let him.

  “Hate to bring this up,” Randy said, “but their tent’s not in much better shape. And there’s a ladder.” He pointed high up on the cliff wall.

  A lone coyote howled, followed by yips from the rest of the pack.

  The sound seemed to echo forever, serving as a reminder to just how remote this foreboding place was.

  Olivia clung to Harding, but then a movement behind him caught her attention. Was that an animal on the horizon? Or . . . Grandpa?

  On legs fueled by adrenaline and hope, she ran as hard and fast as she could. When she tripped, she ignored bloodied palms to get back on her feet and run faster.

  “Grandpa?” Upon realizing it was really him, she froze for a moment, afraid he might be a mirage, but then she wrapped her arms around him, thrilled beyond words to have found him healthy and whole.

  “Livvy . . .” He held her with a fraction of his usual strength.

  “I’ll get my rig.” Randy ran toward his vehicle.

  “Let me help.” Harding raised Dude’s arm over his shoulders, keeping him upright. “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.”

  “So-so g-glad I found you.” Dude’s lips were dry and cracked. His cheeks red from exposure to sun and wind. “Shirley. W-we have to get her.”

  “Where is she?” Olivia asked.

  “Yes,” the
colonel said, cresting a small hill with a gun held to Randy’s head. “That’s something I’d also like to know as well. Especially if she’s anywhere near my prize.”

  “Lower the gun,” Harding said.

  “Why would I do that? I’ve grown weary of games. I either want my bomb or the map leading to it. The old man stumbled into something far larger than . . .”

  Two gunshots rang out. But from where? Who’d fired them?

  The colonel opened his mouth as if to speak, but rather than words, blood gurgled from between his lips.

  Randy clutched his chest and then head as if double-checking, but he hadn’t been hit.

  The colonel crumpled to the ground, convulsed, and then stilled.

  “I-is he dead?” Olivia asked.

  Harding kicked him. “It would appear so.” He took his gun, handing it to Randy. “Can you cover me? We won’t be alone for long. Liv, get your grandfather in the 4-Runner and shut the doors. It might not look like much, but it will at least provide cover.”

  She wanted to help, but even more, she wanted Dude safe. “Come on, Grandpa.”

  “I’m not an invalid,” he complained. “Give me a gun. I served for thirty years. If anyone deserves a shot at those punk military wannabes, it’s me.”

  “The second we get an extra weapon,” Harding shouted while taking cover behind a rock formation, “it’s got your name on it.”

  Olivia tugged her grandfather’s arm. “I know you want to help—so do I—but for now, let’s stay out of the way and let Harding do his job.”

  She’d just closed them into the shell of a vehicle when three men dressed in camo ran into the camp, shooting in all directions. Their guns were big and seemed to fire ten times for each of Harding or Randy’s single shots. Keeping one arm protectively around her grandfather, Olivia hunkered down, praying Harding and Randy would be okay. Harding, especially. After all the grief she’d given him about being in a dangerous profession, he was currently risking his life for her and Dude. After the horrible things she’d said, she didn’t deserve his loyalty or help. But she appreciated both more than words could say.

  It felt as if weeks passed before the concussive barrage stopped.

  She was afraid to look at who was still standing, but this was no time to cower.

  “Grandpa, please stay inside. I’ll get you when it’s safe.”

  “Okay, but don’t forget my gun!” Dude’s command chased her out her door.

  “I won’t.” She was relieved he hadn’t lost his fighting spirit. Easing out of the vehicle, she called, “Harding?”

  “Over here! Come quick. Pretty sure we took out all the colonel’s men, but in the process, Randy’s been shot.”

  She leapt from the car, shut the door with Dude safely inside, then ran to where Harding knelt beside their friend. Sure enough, he’d taken a bullet to his left upper arm. “Help me sit him up.”

  “I’m fine,” Randy complained.

  Harding slipped his arm behind Randy’s back, helping him upright. He used his knife to slice off Randy’s sleeve, giving Olivia access to the wound.

  “There’s a lot of blood,” she said, “but the bullet passed through. We’ll need to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, then clean it. We’ll get him to a doctor as soon as we find my grandmother.”

  “Know what would be even easier?” Randy said.

  “I’d love to hear.”

  “Why don’t we grab my sat phone from my rig and call for help.”

  “Great idea,” Harding stood. “But please don’t be offended if I find help outside of Green Fork.”

  Randy snorted, but struggled to stand. He’d lost a lot of blood. Harding helped him to his feet. “I wouldn’t let anyone from that town fix a hangnail.”

  The three of them walked in fading daylight to Randy’s vehicle.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Harding walked ahead. He’d slung a variety of lethal-looking weapons over each shoulder and held one at the ready.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Look for yourself.” Randy’s ride had been destroyed just as effectively as her grandparents’. Even worse? The satellite phone had been smashed on a rock. Their supplies had been strewn and the hood had been opened. Hoses and wires decorated nearby brush.

  “Son of a bitch,” Randy said.

  “Harding,” Dude said, “give me one of those guns. I’d love to shoot those bastards again.”

  Making matters worse, on the horizon, lightning flashed.

  Thunder rolled, echoing like an otherworldly moan through hundreds of slot canyons.

  “Let’s triage this situation,” Harding said. “Olivia, what’s left of the first aid box is in that bush.” He pointed. “Find it, then get Randy in shape to travel. Dude, there’s a cooler around here somewhere. Gather up bottled water and food. Hydrate yourself, eat, then let’s go get your wife.”

  “How will we get to her?” Randy asked.

  “Somewhere nearby are four hummers. Let’s use one.”

  Lightening flashed. Electricity crackled in the dry air. Thunder boomed.

  “I don’t like this,” Randy said. “Those slot canyons become death traps during storms. Just last year . . .”

  “Let’s skip the grim statistics,” Harding said, “and get to work. Everyone clear on their roles?”

  After an assortment of nods and grumbling, they focused on assignments.

  “Grandpa,” Olivia asked while cleaning Randy’s wound with hydrogen peroxide, “how are you doing?” He fished through weeds and brush for dehydrated meal pouches, protein bars and the water.

  “Good. I’m just antsy to get back to your grandmother. I didn’t want to tell you, but when I left this morning, she was unresponsive.”

  “What do you mean?” Olivia’s blood felt as cold as if she’d gotten an ice water transfusion. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “We had enough going on with all the shooting. Last night, after escaping from the now dead guys, we got caught in a rock slide and then this morning, I couldn’t wake her.”

  Olivia pressed her lips tight, covering stinging eyes with the heels of her hands. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. For every one piece of good news, they received about ten pieces of bad.

  “Don’t panic,” Dude said. “Her breathing was regular. Pulse strong. I’m sure she’s tired.”

  Olivia hoped so but couldn’t be sure until seeing for herself.

  Headlights approached. Thank goodness. Harding had returned. They could find her grandmother before the rain started, then drive through the night to get her to safety.

  “Ouch.” Randy flinched when she added more peroxide. “Watch your bedside manner.”

  “Sorry. I’m anxious to get going.”

  Lightning arced across the sky above them, illuminating the valley floor in an otherworldly glow. Thunder shook the ground.

  “No, no, no . . .” Randy shook his head and moaned.

  “What’s wrong?’ she asked. “Does something else hurt?”

  “Isn’t this an idyllic scene?” Instead of Harding strolling up, Olivia looked over her shoulder to find Grueber standing behind her, carrying the same weapon as he had the night before.

  The sheriff was trailed by four men—all armed.

  Where was Harding? He had their guns.

  “Give it a rest,” Randy said. “This is over.”

  “What do you mean it’s over?” Grueber asked. “This whole venture was your idea.”

  “Not the trafficking. Never that.”

  “Wait . . .” Olivia looked from Randy to Grueber. Instant nausea flushed her cheeks. “You two work together? All this time . . .”

  “Whoa. This isn’t what you think.” Randy performed a verbal backpedal. “I had my suspicions about your grandfather’s map. I made inquiries and got answers. All I wanted to do was find the bomb before anyone else. I figured our own government would pay a hefty sum to get it back, don’t you think? It�
��s just business. Never would I have let it fall into the wrong hands.”

  “Sugarcoat it all you want,” Grueber said. “But Randy, we’re in this together. I found buyers willing to pay far more than Washington. Now that you did your part by getting these two out here, you’re out of the picture.”

  “I won’t let you do it.” Randy said. “You can’t go against your own country. That’s treason.”

  “Watch me.” Grueber shot Randy point blank in his chest.

  Olivia’s vision tunneled. Her pulse beat dangerously fast. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Nice and slow,” Grueber said, pointing the gun at Dude, “I want you to give me the map that’s caused all this fuss.”

  “I don’t have it.” Dude held up his hands. “Swear on my life. I don’t know where it is.”

  Grueber shook his head. “Are you willing to swear on sweet Olivia’s life? Jenkins, grab her.”

  12

  ONE OF GRUEBER’S men, a greasy-haired rail of a bastard, stepped up behind Olivia, putting her in a chokehold with his left arm, holding a gun to her head with his right. “Where’s Hubby?”

  “G-gone.” Her breathing turned shallow. The only time she’d been more scared was when Harding had been shot. In those moments before knowing whether he’d live or die, she’d been trapped in suspended animation. It was like that now, only worse. Was he already gone? Her grandmother? Was she next? Her grandfather soon to follow?

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Grueber nodded to the man holding her.

  Like a boa, he tightened his grip around her neck.

  She struggled to free herself from Jenkins’ hold, kicking with all her might at his left kneecap.

  “Bitch!” He fired his gun but the shot missed its target—her head. Hopping on one leg, he said to Grueber. “Can I kill her now? Please let me kill her now.”

  “In due time. She might be more valuable to us on the open market.”

  Lightning strobed.

  In the expectant pause before the thunder, a second shot rang out, then a third.

  She lurched back to find that Jenkins sported a gushing, blood-red hole in his chest.