by Mallory Kane
She shivered, and then ducked her head, searching around the cramped space for her clothes.
Matt turned the other way and dressed. Then he checked his MAC-10 to be sure it hadn’t gotten wet, and loaded it. He did the same with the Glock and handed it to Aimee, handle first.
“Remember. From this point on, there’s a chance you’ll have to shoot someone to save your life or William’s. You have to decide now whether you can do it. Don’t aim if you’re not prepared to shoot. And don’t shoot if you’re not prepared to kill.”
She nodded, accepting the gun and sliding it into the paddle holster she’d already put on. As soon as she’d finished dressing, she started rolling up the blankets.
Matt stuffed them into his homemade pack and then took the mummy bag’s stuff-sack from Aimee and packed it.
The sound of a motor starting up echoed across the canyon. He froze, listening. The motor revved once, twice. He touched Aimee’s arm.
“Stay right here.”
“Matt—”
“Stay here, and don’t make a sound.”
He carefully pushed the blanket aside and slipped out. When he’d sneaked as close to the edge of the overhang as he dared go, he used his eyes like an eagle or a hawk would to strafe the ground and search for prey.
Down below, Kinnard was on the snowmobile. As he watched, Kinnard revved it again, then turned off the engine. He cursed as he climbed off the vehicle and stomped back toward the cabin.
Had he forgotten something?
Without moving a muscle he didn’t need to, Matt groped in his backpack until his hand closed around his binoculars. He pulled them out and watched Kinnard mount the snow-covered steps.
As the kidnapper reached for the door handle, a loud crack rang out, practically over Matt’s head.
Kinnard whirled and looked in their direction. Matt didn’t move. A huge branch crashed noisily as it fell through lower branches. It hit the ground not ten feet away from him with a deafening thud.
Kinnard stood perfectly still, watching and listening. His head was raised and his gaze was on the trees that were still swaying as they rebounded from being hit by the falling branch.
Matt knew that where he sat was partially obscured by tangled underbrush. He also knew that if he moved, Kinnard’s brain would separate his gray-and-green-and-white camo from the surrounding natural foliage.
Behind him, he heard Aimee stirring.
It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to move or speak.
Stay still, Aimee.
Matt didn’t take his eyes off Kinnard as the man squinted up at the place where the branch had fallen. Behind him, Aimee continued to move. If she decided to push the blanket aside, they’d be sitting ducks.
Finally, the kidnapper’s rigid stance relaxed. He glanced around, then went inside the cabin. Matt didn’t dare move. If Kinnard was just retrieving something he’d forgotten, he’d be out within seconds. Sure enough, Kinnard appeared again almost immediately, climbed on the snowmobile, started it up and headed northeast. Matt got a glimpse of the rifle in its scabbard, attached to the right side of the vehicle.
His breath hissed out between his teeth. He lifted the binoculars again and examined every inch of the cabin. As he was studying the layout and trying to remember anything he could about the couple of trips he and Bill had made up here when they were kids, a dim light came on in one of the windows.
His pulse sped up as a young woman appeared, holding a baby. She was rocking from one foot to another and bouncing the boy in her arms. As he watched, she bent her head and kissed him on his forehead.
A frisson of relief slithered down his spine. The woman’s stance and demeanor were that of a caregiver. A nanny, maybe. Or a mother. She was obviously caring for William.
Aimee’s baby was in safe hands—for the moment.
He sent up a brief Thank You prayer as he turned his gaze back to the northeast. The hum of the snowmobile’s motor was waning. Kinnard was gone, at least for a while.
They needed to make their move now.
He detached the blanket from over the shelter opening and rolled it up. Aimee had searched the inside of the shelter to make sure they weren’t leaving anything.
“Got everything?” he asked, looking around.
“I think so. What was that motor?”
“It was Kinnard on his snowmobile. He just took off on it.” Matt took her arm. “Aimee, as far as I can tell, right now William is in there alone with a young woman who appears to be taking very good care of him.”
“Really?” Her gaze zeroed in on the cabin. “You saw him? He’s all right? Can I see? Oh, Matt. Can we go now?”
“Listen to me. We’ve got to act fast. Kinnard headed north. He may be planning to hide up there and watch for us.”
Matt rubbed his thumb across his lower lip and looked up at the sky. “The snow is coming down harder, so that’s on our side. If we circle around to the south side of the cabin, and the snow keeps up, we should be able to sneak into the cabin without him seeing us.”
“What about the girl?”
“When I saw her, she didn’t act as if she were being watched. There didn’t appear to be anyone else there, either. She was totally concentrated on the baby. But we have to go in as if there were armed guards in every room.” He set his jaw and looked Aimee straight in the eye.
“That means you can’t go rushing to William. You have to stay with me and do exactly as I say.” He gripped her arms. “Can you do that?”
Her eyes glittered with dampness. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“Can you?” he growled. “Because if you can’t, you’re going to have to stay up here, hidden, until I can get him. I can’t take care of both of you at once.”
Chapter Ten
SATURDAY 1900 HOURS
Aimee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she lifted her chin. “I can do it.”
He pushed away his need to touch her, to pull her close and kiss her and promise her that everything was going to be all right. This was a mission—he needed to act like a commander. And somewhere inside him he had to find the detachment and focus that made him good at his job.
And Aimee had to act like a soldier.
“This is a covert operation, Aimee. I’m the commander and you’re my team. You follow my orders. If I say abort—then we abort the mission and retreat. Is that understood?”
Her lower lip trembled visibly, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. But she nodded.
“Are you sure? Because if I give the order, you have to leave William and do what I tell you. Can you do that?”
Her chin lifted. “Yes, sir.”
Fierce longing and aching compassion took his breath away. For one instant, he abandoned his Special Forces training and allowed himself to be just a man. He cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her trembling lips.
When their lips touched, a thrill swirled through him that nearly buckled his knees. “I swear to God, Aimee, if you can trust me, I will save your baby.”
She pulled away and gave him a solemn look. “I trust you,” she whispered.
IT TOOK THEM forty minutes to trudge down the hill and around to the south side of the cabin. Despite what Matt had told Aimee, he was hampered by her. If he’d thought for a minute he could have safely left her in the shelter while he rescued William, he’d have done it.
If he’d thought he could wait until he could get a message through to Deke to fly a man in to help him, he’d have done that. But he had no time, and more importantly, no intention of leaving Aimee to fend for herself for even a short while.
He had to rescue them both.
So he clenched his jaw and moved at a pace far slower than he wanted to. As they approached the south, downhill side of the cabin, he quickly repeated his instructions to Aimee.
“I’ll go in first. You wait for my hand signal. I’ll wave you on as soon as I can verify that the room is clear. If you don’t see me, you stay r
ight where you are until you do.” He looked at her evenly.
“What do you do if I don’t come back out?”
She swallowed. “After ten minutes, I head for the door and—and give myself up.” She paused. “Matt—?”
“No. No questions. You give yourself up.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Okay, once we’re inside—do you remember what I told you about the layout?” He was going by what he remembered from his early teens. He hoped to hell he was at least partly right.
“The big room is in front. The right-hand door goes to a bedroom, the left-hand door goes to the kitchen.”
“Right, and the kitchen is where I saw the girl holding William.”
“You’re going through the bedroom and around to the kitchen from the north side. You’ll wait until I go in through the south door and surprise her. When you hear me speak, you’ll come through the north door.”
“Good. After that, just listen to me. I’ll tell you what to do.”
She nodded.
He looked at her and sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Ready?”
Aimee’s throat closed up, but she nodded. A week ago, if anyone had told her she’d be part of a mountain rescue mission to save her own son, she’d have called that person insane.
Now, here she was, ready to stage a dangerous rescue at the side of a Special Ops soldier who was one of the best search-and-rescue specialists in the country.
They were about to rescue her seven-month-old son from kidnappers.
A trembling started deep within her and quickly spread out to her hands, arms and knees. She held on to the Glock with both hands, hoping it would give her strength and courage.
In front of her, Matt stole forward, his entire body tense with expectation. He was ready for anything. His broad shoulders looked strong enough to support the world. His body, even in the bulky coat and camo pants, moved with the powerful grace of a big cat—a leopard maybe, or a cougar.
He was so strong yet he could be so gentle. She knew if anyone in the world could save her baby, Matt could.
Dear heavens, she trusted him. And she believed him—believed every word he said. She hadn’t wanted to. She certainly didn’t want to believe that he couldn’t have prevented Bill’s death. It was so easy to blame someone.
He turned his head and glanced at her over his shoulder, his profile strong and assured as a warrior. Then he gestured, waving her forward and pointing to an evergreen.
She rose to an uncomfortable crouch and eased forward, staying in the shadow of the tree. Her pulse sped up and her mouth went dry. She reached behind her and seated the paddle holster, making sure it was secure.
Matt shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, then held up his hand, thumb and first finger forming an O for OK.
She sent him the same gesture back.
He pointed to his own head and then forward.
He’d given her the five-minute crash course in signals, so she knew he was telling her that he was about to move forward. He didn’t look back at her, so her responding nod was wasted.
As he half crawled, half crept toward the two steps that led to the cabin’s door, she waited. Her limbs twitched with the need to move, and her pulse sped up.
She fought to keep her breathing even as she watched him unlock the door and slip inside. He’d warned her that once he’d disappeared into the house, she’d feel an almost uncontrollable urge to follow him.
It’s the hardest thing to learn about stealth reconnaissance, he’d explained. When your commander gives you an order, his life and yours rest on him being able to trust you to carry out that order, even if all it means is that you stay still.
She’d thought she understood. But he was right. She burned to move a few steps forward, enough to be able to see through a window.
She set her teeth and clenched her fists. She would not move. As much as it was killing her not to be able to see what he saw, not to be able to lay eyes on her baby. Her scalp burned, and despite the cold air, a drop of sweat ran down her back.
“Come on,” she muttered. “Hurry up.”
MATT STOOD in the front room of the cabin, listening. He heard water running, and a feminine voice talking in low, soothing tones. Then he heard a giggle and a splash.
The girl was giving William a bath. The excruciating tension in his shoulders and neck relaxed, sending a rush of relief through him all the way from his head to his feet.
William was safe and happy.
He needed to take a look at the kitchen before he gestured Aimee in. He didn’t want to leave her outside any longer than he had to, but he’d ordered her to treat this like a mission, and he had to do the same thing.
It was dangerous to leave her out there undefended, but that’s how he would handle it if she were a BHSAR specialist. Except that if she were a specialist, she’d know how long to wait and when to move, even if she didn’t get a signal.
Matt glided forward a few steps and peered in past the door hinges. Although the light given off by the oil lantern was dim and flickering, his narrow view caught the edge of the sink. He saw William’s arms waving, and the girl’s hand gliding a soapy washcloth over his pink, new skin. She laughed. She sounded young, maybe not far out of her teens.
Hopefully that was a good sign. If she were young and enchanted by William, chances were she’d be easily manipulated into talking about Kinnard.
He angled his head enough to get a view of the rear door to the kitchen. In the dimness it was impossible to tell if it was unlocked, but at least he’d remembered the cabin’s layout correctly. There were two doors to the kitchen.
He retraced his steps across the room, thankful that the floorboards were solid, not creaky. He slipped through the front door and closed it. Then he gestured for Aimee.
She rose and moved stealthily forward and up the steps. He let out the breath he’d been holding. Thank God she was all right. He’d only taken a few seconds to reconnoiter, but he knew all too well that it took only a few seconds to kill.
“They’re in the kitchen,” he whispered in her ear. “She’s bathing William and he’s happy. He’s splashing water everywhere.”
She swallowed and then nodded. “Bath time is his favorite time of day. He thinks it’s funny to splash water on me—” Her voice cracked.
“It’s okay, Aimee. He’s right there and he’s safe. Now—I’m going around through the bedroom. Give me sixty seconds and then step through the left door—that’s the door to the kitchen—get the drop on the girl. And be careful.”
She hadn’t taken her eyes off the door. He understood why. Her baby was on the other side of it. “Don’t take your eyes off her for an instant and—” he touched her chin, forcing her to look at him “—don’t let yourself get distracted by William. It’s important, Aimee. Your life and his depend on it. Our mission is to rescue him. Right now you’ve got to be a soldier, not a mother. Do you understand?”
Pain lit her eyes, but she nodded.
“By the time you get the drop on her, I’ll be coming in the rear door and we’ll have her in a cross fire. Okay?”
“How will I know sixty seconds?”
He counted for her. “Count like that. Don’t let your anxiety let you speed up the count.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“One final thing. Get her to sit down. Keep away from the window. I saw her. That means Kinnard might be able to see you. Let’s go.” He peered around the door and then pushed it open. He gestured for her to go to the left door and he’d go to the right.
He pointed at his watch, indicating that she should start counting.
She nodded.
He slipped through the door and took a couple of precious seconds to study the bedroom. He’d give just about anything to find something that identified Kinnard’s first name or any information about him or the girl. But the most remarkable thing about the room was the pile of pillows on the bed.
He crossed to th
e bathroom, which led from the bedroom onto the enclosed back porch.
Good. He’d remembered the layout.
The porch had a half-paned door and two windows. Directly in front of the back door was the door to the kitchen. Through it he could hear the girl talking to William, but he couldn’t make out what she said.
Come on, Aimee. He looked at his watch and saw that she had twenty more seconds. He itched to get in, grab the baby and handcuff the girl before she knew what hit her. But he needed Aimee there to take her baby.
So he waited and watched the second hand crawl around.
FIFTY-NINE, SIXTY. Aimee took a deep breath, trying to control her anxiety. She adjusted her two-handed grip on the Glock, laid her shoulder against the door and took a deep breath.
“Here we go, pretty boy,” the girl said. William gurgled happily.
Aimee’s throat spasmed and her heart squeezed so tightly it hurt. Her baby. She almost cried out loud. Closing her eyes, she drew in another deep breath, and shouldered the door open, leading with her weapon.
“Don’t move!” she snapped.
The girl shrieked and clasped William to her chest. “What? Who—?” She stepped backward.
“I said—don’t move.” Aimee’s nervousness was completely overshadowed by the horror of what she was doing. She swallowed against the bile that rose in the back of her throat. She’d never aimed a weapon at anyone in her life. Yet here she was, threatening a pretty young woman who was holding her baby.
She was aiming a loaded gun at William—her own son. The thought and the action made her physically ill. She looked at the door behind them, absently noticing a pair of snowshoes hanging on a hook.
Where was Matt?
The woman shifted William to her other arm. “Who are you? Where—where did you come from?”
“I’m asking the questions,” Aimee snapped. “What’s your name?”
In the flickering lantern light, Aimee could see that the young woman’s hair was a flat beige color, and her shocked dark eyes were rimmed with pale lashes, which made her look younger than she probably was. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
