by Rebecca York
“They’re not working. It must be the generator.”
“Then fix the fucking thing.”
Out here, there was no ambient light, except from the stars and the half moon.
But Brand’s night vision was well above average. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw men stumbling around and flashlight beams cutting through the darkness. How long would it be before someone discovered that the outer defenses had been breached?
In the confusion, he slipped to the underside of Tory’s balcony. He’d be horribly exposed, but going through the house would be too dangerous now. Instead he used the hook and rope he’d brought to quickly pull himself up to the balcony level. Hoping the guards were still focused toward the woods, he cut a hole in the wire that caged her. This mesh was thinner than the main chain-link fence, and he was able to make a fairly large cut, then pull the edges apart. After he’d slipped through, he pulled them back into place so that a casual inspection wouldn’t reveal his presence. Taking the wolf’s pack with him, he crossed the balcony and eased the sliding glass door open. In the shadows he could see Tory lying in the bed, and the terrible knot in his chest eased. They hadn’t moved her, thank God.
Now he had to get her out of here—and fast because the whole place was on alert.
“Tory?” he called.
There was no answer.
Chapter Seventeen
Brand moved cautiously toward the bed. The first time he’d come here, she had attacked him. This time, he hoped she was expecting him, but he had no idea what chemicals they’d pumped into her mind.
As he called her name again, her eyes blinked open and focused on him, but he couldn’t tell if she knew who he was.
“Tory,” he whispered. “I came back, and now we have to get out of here.”
She pushed herself up, and he saw something in her hand reflect in the moonlight. As she stared at him, she raised her arm, and he could see that she was holding a sharp piece of plastic.
His breath stilled as he watched her, wondering what she was going to do.
She blinked and turned her hand, staring at the plastic, then at him.
“Brand?”
“Yes.”
“I prayed you’d come back,” she murmured.
“I said I would.”
She stared at the makeshift weapon again and let it drop to the floor. “I was going to cut anyone who came into the room.”
“Good for you.”
He leaned down and reached for her, folding her close. She stood and clung to him, and the sensation of holding her in his arms again was almost too much to cope with. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted another woman in his life, yet he knew that the two of them were in terrible danger—and he must stay focused if he was going to get them out of this death trap.
When he eased away, she made a sound of protest.
“We have to go. Now.”
Before he could say more, he heard the sound of the door lock turning. There was no time to make any plans. He sprang forward, flattening himself against the wall in back of the door. Tory stayed rooted to the spot where she’d been standing.
Two men came into the room. One was a security guy. The other was the man he’d seen at her door last night. When Tory saw him, she drew in a quick breath.
“Dr. Raymond?” she asked in a quavering voice, and Brand wondered if she was terrified or acting the part.
Both men were facing her, unaware that anyone was standing behind the door.
“What are you doing up?” Raymond asked.
Brand could see her trying to collect her wits. “I . . . heard something.”
“Nothing to worry about. We’re going to move you to a secure location.”
“No,” she said, her voice sounding vague, but he was sure now that she was faking it.
“Let’s go,” Raymond.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Tory answered.
“What?”
Brand could have shot both of them—and drawn half the security force running to Tory’s room. Making a split-second decision, he leaped from his position behind the door, slamming the guard into the doctor.
They both went down in a heap, and Brand followed, picking up the piece of plastic that Tory had dropped and slashing it across the guard’s throat. The man made a gurgling sound, his mouth opening and closing.
Raymond and Tory both gasped.
Out of necessity, Brand had kept his plans flexible. Now he had a better idea of how he and Tory were going to get off the grounds. Leaving the dying guard on the floor, he pulled the doctor up and spun him around as he jabbed a gun into the small of his back. “If you call out a warning or make any false moves, you’re a dead man,” he said.
Raymond could barely hold his voice steady. “Please, what do you want?”
Tory had taken a step back from the man who was holding her captive here.
But as she considered the situation, she darted forward and slapped the doctor across the face.
“You bastard,” she spat out. “You tried to make me think I was crazy, but you’re the crazy one. Or maybe the right word is demented.”
“Don’t damage him,” Brand said, “he’s our ticket out of here.”
Tory looked like she wanted to pound on the guy, but she answered with a nod and stepped back.
“She’s a dangerous mental patient. You see what she just did,” the doctor said.
“Don’t listen to him,” Tory pleaded.
“I’m not.” Brand answered. “Make sure he’s not carrying a weapon.”
Tory began to pat him down the way she must have seen it done by cops on television. Brand could feel the doctor tensing, but he wasn’t going to try anything with a gun in his back.
“Check the ankles. And up the inside of his thighs.”
As Tory did, the man muttered under his breath.
When Tory stepped back, Brand began to speak again. “This is what’s going to happen. We are going downstairs. I’m going to play the part of the guard, and you are going to order your men to open the gate. Then we’re driving out of here.”
“No.”
“Fine.” Brand clicked a bullet into the chamber. “Then you can die right here.”
“No. Wait.”
“We’re not waiting. We’re leaving. You will walk in front of me. Tory beside me. One false move or word from you, and I’ll drop you,” he said, hoping the tone of his voice made it clear he was telling the absolute truth.
Brand spared a glance at Tory to make sure she was wearing shoes. Then they all started for the door.
No one was on the upper floor. “Hold up,” Brand ordered as he surveyed what he could see of the ground floor.
“When we get down there,” you tell your men that you’ve personally decided to move Ms. Robinson to another facility because this one has been compromised. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” the doctor bit out.
They started down the steps with Brand still jamming the gun into the doctor’s back and Tory sticking next to him.
A man came running down the hall, weapon drawn, but he stopped short when he saw the trio.
“Tell him what to do,” Brand ordered in a voice he knew wouldn’t carry beyond the doctor’s ears.
“Open the front gate,” Dr. Raymond said.
“Sir?”
“I said open the front gate.” He hesitated for a moment before adding. “This facility has been compromised. I’m personally taking Ms. Robinson to a safer location.”
“Yes, sir.” The man ran off to obey.
“Do you have the car keys?” Brand asked.
“No.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
With his free hand, Brand gave the doctor’s ear a savage twist.
He cried out.
“The keys,” Brand prompted.
“In the car.”
“They better be.”
The three of them walked out the front door
and toward a Lincoln Town Car. Ahead of them Brand could see the gate opening.
“You will drive,” Brand said. “I will be in the front seat beside you where I will have a clear shot if you try anything funny. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Brand could see guards gathered around, watching the three of them move toward the car. They were almost home free when the spell broke.
“That’s not Patrick,” one of them called out. “What happened to Patrick?”
oOo
As the guards began moving toward them, Brand swung Raymond around. “You’re right. I’m not Patrick. But I have a gun in the doctor’s back. If you get any closer, I’ll shoot him.”
The men kept their distance.
“Tory, you’re going to have to drive,” Brand said. “Check for the keys.”
She made a strangled sound but opened the door of the car and slid behind the wheel.
“The keys?”
“Yes.”
He waited while she started the engine. Keeping hold of the doctor, he pushed him into the backseat and followed.
“Go,” he said to Tory. When he glanced toward the gate, he was thankful that nobody had closed it.
She put the car into gear and headed through the fence. But they had barely gotten out of the compound when the guards began shooting, not to kill anyone in the car but to stop the vehicle, Brand assumed.
He heard bullets hitting the trunk, then the tires.
“Shit.”
“Out,” he shouted to Tory. “Head into the woods.”
He debated what to do with Raymond, then shoved the man out again, holding him as a shield.
The shooting stopped, and Brand walked backwards toward the woods, still holding the doctor.
“If you come after us, he’s a dead man,” he called, glancing behind himself to make sure he was following Tory.
As he walked, he was pulling a roll of duct tape from his knapsack. When they had disappeared into a darkened thicket, he paused to hand Tory the gun.
“Cover us,”
The blood had drained from her face, but she did what he asked without question, holding the weapon as he taped the doctor’s hands behind him, then tore the man’s shirt, ripping off a piece to use as a gag, which he stuffed in his mouth and secured with more tape.
He pulled their captive along, but it was clear that the doctor was slowing them down, probably deliberately, hoping that his men would catch up and kill the guy who had managed to get Tory out of the madhouse.
Brand stopped and secured Raymond to a tree, then bashed him on the side of the head. The wound began to bleed almost immediately.
Turning, he saw the look of horror on Tory’s face.
“Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s worse than it looks.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“No. Eventually, they’ll come after us. And when they find him, that will slow them down again.” He turned and stepped away from the doctor, lowering his voice. “Plus, if he’s dead, I can’t find out what the hell he wants with you.”
When she started to speak, he shook his head. “Later.”
He adjusted the small pack onto his shoulder and led Tory farther into the woods, heading for his car. It was a mile away, and if they could get to it, he could drive them out of here. Now he was reconsidering his overall plan. He’d tried to rescue Tory on his own. As he walked, he fumbled in the pack for the phone, thinking that this might be the right time to call Decorah Security and tell them he needed some assistance.
But when he tried to make the call, he found there was no cell tower reception in the immediate area. Or maybe the guys back at the compound were somehow jamming it.
Tory gave him a worried look. “What?”
“I can’t call for backup. We’d better hustle.” He gave her a concerned look. “Are you all right.”
“I guess I have to be.”
Still, when she stumbled on a root, he grabbed her arm in time to keep her from falling.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“You’re doing fine,” he answered, hoping it was true.
“Where are we going?”
“My car. It’s not far.”
Well, not far for him. It might seem like miles away to a half-drugged woman.
“How do you feel?”
“Glad to get out of there.”
“Yeah.”
He led her through the woods, being careful not to leave an obvious trail. Several times they had to detour around bramble patches. He wanted to ask Tory what they had done to her during the day, but he couldn’t quiz her now because he had to save all her energy for walking.
Every few minutes, he glanced back, glad that he saw none of the guards was following yet. Still, he was sure they would be coming soon, and he and Tory had better keep up a good pace.
The wind had picked up, and he knew that they were pushing against a rainstorm. A few drops had begun to fall as they reached the parking lot where he’d left his car.
He breathed out a sigh when he saw the vehicle through the trees, the top reflecting moonlight. But as drew nearer, the relief turned to anger. Someone had slashed his tires and scraped the paint on the sides with a rock. He stopped short, searching the woods for movement.
“Christ.”
“What?”
“Somebody’s vandalized the car. Wait here.”
He left her in the shadows under some trees as he surveyed the area, wishing he could change form and use his wolf senses to make sure the area was clear.
He saw no one, probably because they hadn’t stuck around to watch the camper or hiker return to his disabled vehicle. He wanted to loose a string of curses, but there was no point in wasting the energy.
Instead, he made contingency plans. He opened the trunk, taking out some of the supplies he’d brought for his camping trip but knowing that he shouldn’t try to carry too much.
He wished he had a rain jacket for Tory, but he hadn’t brought one because it wasn’t something a wolf would need.
When he beckoned to her, she came forward, her horrified gaze on the car as she took in the situation.
“Who would do that?”
“Jerks who think it’s fun to ruin someone’s vacation. Come on.”
“Where?”
“Where we can get cell phone reception, and I can call my friends.”
“They live around here?”
“Unfortunately, no. But they can get here pretty fast,” he answered, trying to mentally estimate the time it would take to launch a rescue operation from Beltsville, Maryland.
With no better alternative, he led Tory in the general direction of the main road out of the park.
The moon was lower in the sky, and there was less light. He could see better than most people, but he could tell Tory was having trouble watching her steps.
As he led her away from the car, he kept to the woods.
When they’d covered about a quarter mile, he stopped and tried the phone again. This time he got reception.
“Decorah Security,” a voice answered, and he knew it was one of the new agents who had drawn night duty.
“This is Brand Marshall.”
“I thought you were on vacation.”
“I was. Something came up. I got into an unexpected situation.”
“How can we help?”
“I’d like to be picked up. On the double. I’ve got a kidnap victim with me, and we’re being pursued by armed men. If you can send a helo, that would be perfect.”
“To what location?”
“I’m in the Finger Lakes National Forest, and I’m on the move. You’ll have to key in on my cell phone.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t give you a landing site yet.”
There were no more questions. Decorah Security would be here as soon as they could. Until then, he and Tory would have to dodge Raymond and the security men.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as Brand p
ut away the phone, the fat drops of rain that had been plopping lazily down turned into a torrent, hitting the forest with force.
He pulled Tory close, trying to shelter her with his body, but that was impossible.
He could take the cold rain, but after a few minutes, he heard her teeth chattering. The forest had been dark. Now the clouds overhead and the curtain of water coming down made it hard to see ahead of them, and he picked his way carefully through the woods, thinking that no one from Decorah would be able to land in this torrent.
“How can you see anything?” Tory murmured.
“I have good night vision.”
“Maybe it will help us.”
“Maybe,” he answered, wondering if the security men back there had night vision goggles.
It would be nice to think the rain would halt the search, but he knew Tory was too valuable to simply give up in the face of a little bad weather. They’d do what it took to find her, even if it meant sloshing through driving rain.
That knowledge kept him moving. He glanced at Tory. Her blond hair was plastered to her head and shoulders. Her shirt was almost transparent with water, and she moved along like a robot, putting one foot doggedly in front of the other.
Through the rain and trees, he saw a building. It looked like a small cabin.
“Can we stop there?” Tory asked.
He was sorely tempted—not for himself, but for her. Had he put enough distance between themselves and the pursuers?
He simply couldn’t take a chance.
“We’d better not,” he answered.
She looked disappointed but also resigned as she plodded on beside him, and he knew she had given over control to him. He’d gotten her out of the clutches of Dr. Son of a Bitch, but she still wasn’t safe.
Silently he cursed the rain that was slowing them down. Desperate to make as good time as possible, he was focusing on the forest ahead when disaster struck. One minute Tory was walking beside him. In the next, she was careening forward, screaming as she went down.
He made a frantic grab for her, but she’d stumbled onto a long incline. As she went tumbling down a steep slope covered with wet leaves, he charged after her, barely staying on his feet as he struggled to catch up.
Ahead of him, he could see her snatching at trees, trying to stop her death slide. But the bark was too wet for her to catch on.
