by Lauren Bach
Burt snickered. "They domesticate wild birds that way. Clip their wings, hood them, and make them totally dependent on the hand that feeds them. Makes 'em do anything."
Adam felt her stiffen and pressed a hand to the small of her back, where no one could see. She relaxed slightly. While he'd had second thoughts about telling her the truth, now he was glad she knew. To be held under these conditions, without hope, would be terrifying.
After thirty minutes of winding along a desolate stretch of highway, Nevin pulled onto a road heading up the side of a mountain. For a moment it seemed the van might stall out. It coughed, the idle set too lean for the high altitude, but sputtered and chugged on.
Dusk was falling by the time they came to a gate across the road. From nowhere a man appeared, rifle in hand. He nodded at Nevin and opened the gate—then disappeared back into the trees. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a two-storv building tucked beneath some pines.
Several outbuildings and barns were scattered beneath other trees. From the air, the place would be practically invisible. Adam guessed they were at a secret militia compound. One of the first things he needed to do was find out how many men were here. And exactly where here was.
Keeping Renata close, he followed the brothers inside. The interior, while dark, was larger than expected. Tristin and Burt still supported Lyle when their father stepped into the room.
Willy McEdwin's hair was more gray, the lines in his face more harsh than Adam expected. Other than that, the older man looked exactly like the mug shot on his reward poster. Like his sons, Willy had made no attempt to disguise his looks, yet another way of thumbing their noses at law enforcement.
Willy clasped Lyle in a hug. "Good to have you home, son."
The younger man flinched. "Easy, Pa," he slurred.
Willy frowned. "Get him upstairs." Next he turned to Adam, extended a hand. "I owe you for getting my boy out of prison and keeping him alive. Is this the doctor?"
Adam nodded.
"Get her upstairs, too," Willy said. "I don't claim to know a lot about medicine, but if you ask me, he looks like he's got one foot in the grave."
* * *
Renata looked wild-eyed when Adam freed her, but with the McEdwins present, she didn't say anything. She rubbed her wrists and glanced around.
Adam guided her toward the staircase. "You need to check the kid."
Lyle was in the first bedroom on the right. Burt brought in a large footlocker filled with medical supplies and set it beside the bed.
Adam rifled through it, handing her a thermometer, stethoscope, and blood pressure cuff. He checked the rest of the supplies, pulled out several pair of scissors. "We need to control her access to these; but keep them readily available for legitimate use."
Burt nodded and took the scissors.
Except for the hiss of air escaping the cuff, the room remained quiet while she worked.
"His fever is climbing. One-oh-three-point-six," she said. "And he's dehydrated. He'll need IV fluids and antibiotics around the clock."
Tristin looked at her suspiciously. "I thought he's been on antibiotics."
"He was, but only for a couple days; enough to start but not finish the job. The wound's never received proper care. Getting dirt in it certainly hasn't been good." She held up one of the bags of antibiotics that Adam had handed her. "Even this may not be strong enough—"
"Then again, it might," Willy's voice boomed from behind. "And if we need something stronger, by God we'll get it. Burt, get your little brother undressed while I talk to the doctor."
Grasping her by the arm, Adam tugged her out of the room, and down the hall.
Willy kept his voice low. "Give it to me straight, doc. How's he doing?"
"The truth?" Renata crossed her arms. "He will likely die if he's not taken to a hospital."
"I know that. How long has he got?"
Her mouth opened, closed. "If he doesn't respond to these antibiotics, it's impossible to say. It could be days or weeks. I've seen people linger, going in and out of comas, improving slightly, then getting worse."
"I get the picture." Willy raised a hand and sighed. "Just do what you need to do and keep him comfortable."
"Comfortable? You keep an end-stage cancer patient comfortable. There are still options available, still time to save him. But only if we act quickly. Your son needs—-"
Adam squeezed her shoulder. "He heard you. So shut up."
To his relief, she lowered her head. To everyone else it appeared she was sulking—expected behavior for a captive. He knew she was madder than a cat on fire.
Willy turned back to Adam. "We need to talk. Downstairs. Tristin and Burt will stay with the woman and help her get Lyle cleaned up."
As soon as Willy had disappeared down the stairs, Adam pulled her close, voice low. "You can't stand up to these men, Renata."
Fury glistened in her eyes. "I can't believe a parent could be so callous about their child's life."
Adam could. "He's not like us. He's blinded by his cause. I have to go. I'll be back up as soon as I can."
"Bet she's not real happy with her circumstances," Willy said when Adam came downstairs. "Abducted by a convict and all."
Adam knew what and all implied. Everything from mental abuse to rape. "She doesn't exactly have a choice."
"She's got grit."
"Why do you think I've kept her?"
Willy looked thoughtful then laughed. "Guess it don't matter in the long run. Are you hungry?"
"Hungry. Tired. Wired. Feels like we've been on the road for a month instead of eight days."
They were in the kitchen. A long table was set up, with enough chairs to seat twenty. How many people were here? The room had few windows. Tucked in the far corner of the room was a computer. Adam wondered what incriminating treasures he'd find on the PC's hard drive.
Food and coffee were already on the table. Nevin joined them.
Willy motioned for Adam to have a seat. "Dish up. Chow's hot. And I bet these will be the best chicken and dumplings you ever ate."
Adam spooned a generous portion onto his plate. "After prison, everything's the best."
"I won't beat around the bush," Willy said after they'd both taken a few bites of food. "Lyle said you've made arrangements for my explosives?"
Adam lowered his fork. "I've confirmed availability, but there are a few details to work out, like payment and delivery. And I've had to blow my partner off twice now, which means he'll be jumpy."
"Montague? Can't blame him. I suggest we bring him here. We can complete our transaction. And discuss ... the future."
"Whose future?" Adam eyed the two men with undisguised suspicion. "And why would I want to discuss it with you?"
"Hear me out." Willy wiped his mouth. "I did some checking on you and your partner, and I think I finally figured out how you two were managing to rip off Uncle Sam."
"Oh?" Adam couldn't wait to hear this.
"Somehow, you managed to hack into the munitions program, arranged for inventory to ship from one warehouse, then you logged it in as received at another, after intercepting it somewhere else. The beauty of it is nobody even knew the stuff went missing since the computer showed it all accounted for. Till your girlfriend ran her mouth, that is."
Adam swallowed coffee, neither confirming nor denying. "And you got this information where?"
"Burt and Tristin figured most of it out. Now, I know I'm missing a lot of the details—for example, you had to have someone helping on the inside—but, to date, the Feds haven't figured out how you did it. So I'm betting your partner went in and removed every trace that you'd been inside the computer. Which means you can go back in, right?"
Again, Adam didn't acknowledge. But he knew by the gloating glint in Willy's eye that the old man assumed he was correct. "Is that what you meant by the future?"
"Yep. And I have a business proposition. You and your partner will make twice what you did before, plus you'll have new identi
ties and transportation to Australia. I hear there's acres of nice looking women down there."
The inference was clear: With so many women, Adam wouldn't bat an eye over losing Renata.
Adam picked up a piece of bread and spread butter on it. "If I'm making twice as much, what's in it for you?"
"Commissions," Willy leaned close. "You know how much U.S. military arms sell for overseas?"
"Yeah. Big bucks. Which surprises me a bit. Doesn't that go against the pro-American doctrine all those groups you belong to embrace?" He knew many of the militia group members professed to be devoted patriots who simply felt the federal government overpowered the little man.
"Over the years I've become pro-Willy. Period. My associations are pretty limited these days, but the Feds still try to link me and my boys to every radical group they can."
Adam dished up more dumplings. "Guess that makes it easier to harass everyone under the guise of searching for you. Kill twelve birds with one stone."
"I hadn't thought of it that way." Pleased, Willy pushed his plate back. "Just give it some thought. For now we need to concentrate on getting that C-4, pronto."
"I'll need access to a phone and—"
A noise sounded from the hallway. Adam turned, saw Burt. Renata hovered behind him. Her hands were cuffed and she'd been gagged and blindfolded again. Seeing her treated like that angered him.
He turned to Willy. "We need to get clear on one thing: The woman can care for Lyle, but her well-being is my affair. I also don't think she needs to be tied up all the time. Where's she going to go?"
Willy looked at him, then nodded. "In here, that's fine. Someone will be with her whenever she's taking care of Lyle. But I'm putting you up in the bunkhouse near the barn, so I insist you keep her handcuffed in your quarters. I don't want to have to worry about her slipping away."
"Fair enough."
Willy nodded at Burt, who untied Renata. "In fact, he can take you out there now, let you get settled. We'll meet again a little later."
As soon as Adam and Renata left with Burt, Nevin turned to Willy.
"Lyle's pretty sick, Pa. He's trying to hide it, but his wound looks terrible."
Willy grew quiet. "I know. I'll have that doctor check him more often."
"Maybe we should move them into the house so she's closer."
"Not just yet. There's something you need to know about Lyle." Willy got up and poured another cup of coffee. "I saw a lot of gunshots like that in 'Nam. Once gangrene sets in, it's all over."
"You think it's that bad?"
"Yep. You never forget the smell of death. And if that infection spreads down his leg—he'll lose use of it."
"Be a cripple?" Nevin's revulsion showed on his face. "Lyle would hate that."
"All of us would. But I don't want to upset Lyle by telling him that. Who knows? Maybe he will get better from those antibiotics." Willy's voice said I doubt it.
Somber, Nevin nodded. "Guess I'll go up and visit with him a bit. When will you meet with Duval again?"
"Not sure. I need to make a few calls while he's not around. And I need you to arrange to have the helicopter on standby to pick up his partner."
"You sure it's safe to bring him here?"
"We don't have a choice. Besides, I think Montague's the real brains behind their operation. He may be more valuable to us in the long run."
Nevin's frown deepened. "What if they decide not to join up?"
"We'll kill them. After we get the C-4, that is."
"And the doctor?"
Willy shrugged nonchalant. "Right now Duval's just looking for a bedmate. Can't blame him after prison, but even he knows she's history."
Stars twinkled in the sky as Adam and Renata followed Burt. Night had fallen, taking the temperature into the fifties, a considerable contrast from the scorching temperatures they'd left in North Carolina.
They passed a rundown barn. Tucked behind it, near the woods, was a small bunkhouse. Inside were two tiny bedrooms and a living area. The air was musty, the rustic furniture coated with dust.
Easing Renata into the closest chair, Adam checked each room even though it was obvious the place hadn't been used in a while.
Burt nodded to Adam's gun. "You always this jittery?"
"Cautious." He tucked his firearm away. "I also want to know the entrances and exits. How many others are staying here?"
"Just you and the doctor. Why?"
"I'd feel bad if I shot someone in the middle of the night, only to find out they were supposed to be here."
"No one will bother you. We're the only ones at the house right now. There's two guards stationed at the front, but they have a small trailer. You might see them at meal times."
The news that only two others were at the compound encouraged Adam. Those odds were better.
Burt tossed him the handcuff key, then crossed the room and opened a tiny closet. It was empty. "Well, that figures. I'll go back and get some supplies from the house. Sheets and towels, too."
"The woman needs food. And I could use some coffee."
When Burt left, Adam motioned for Renata to remain silent. He knew she had a lot of questions; couldn't imagine what she must be thinking and feeling. Hell, he hadn't sorted it out himself yet.
The day had turned out to be one bombshell after another. Willy's interest in a long-term deal with Adam's fictional partner, Daniel Montague, was unexpected, but timely. It also confirmed that Willy believed Adam's cover.
Methodically searching the rooms, he checked for electronic listening devices, even climbed into the small attic space. He didn't expect to find anything, knew Willy kept him away from the main house to protect his own privacy.
A knock sounded at the door. It was Burt again. He carted a box of supplies to the table. "Pa said he didn't realize how late it was. He'll meet with you in the morning."
Adam had no choice but to agree. While he couldn't appear overeager, he was anxious to hear more about Willy's business proposition so he could contact his brother.
As soon as they were alone again, he unfastened one of Renata's handcuffs, leaving the other to dangle at her wrist. He placed his fingers over hers as she rubbed the chafed skin.
Unable to resist, he cupped her cheek briefly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm scared," she admitted. "Afraid I'm going to do or say something wrong, something that will get us both killed."
"You won't."
She held up her other wrist. He loosened the second cuff but didn't remove it.
"Willy wants you cuffed out here, so we need to keep one in place," Adam explained. "If we get visitors and I can't get to you, you need to cuff yourself."
"How soon can you get us out of here?"
"Not soon enough. I'll know more in the morning." He led her to the table and unwrapped the plate of chicken and dumplings Burt had brought. "You must be starving. And exhausted."
While she ate, Adam made up one of the beds. When he finished he found her asleep at the table, her meal only half eaten.
He flipped off the lights and gave his eyes a chance to adjust to the dark. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She stirred briefly, but relaxed when she saw it was him.
He tucked her in but made no attempt to join her. Yeah, he wanted her. Bad. But he wouldn't disturb her now unless her life depended on it.
He watched her sleep. His admiration for her multiplied as she weathered each new storm. When this was over...
What?
What could he possibly do or say to make up for any of this? Thanks to him, she'd been yanked into a nightmare. Was still in it.
Frustrated, Adam slipped outside. The waning moon offered enough light to make out shapes. From the corner of the barn, to see the main house. A light burned in the kitchen. He crept closer, trying to eavesdrop, but heard nothing.
Adam's questions were endless: Where was the first shipment of C-4 and what did Willy have planned for it? What was Ethan up to and would he try to sabotag
e Adam?
Adam needed help, but who to trust? It wasn't as simple as picking up the phone and calling it in. The leaks...
He thought back to Stan's original instructions to Zach: that the data be delivered to Chris Tashley. Tashley was his best bet for now. Adam would have Zach e-mail copies of Stan's files to Tashley, with a message asking for his help in getting backup.
Tense and tired, he headed back toward the bunkhouse. In the morning he'd insist on making contact with his brother and finalize a plan to get Renata to safety and the McEdwins to jail.
Chapter Nineteen
A pounding at the door woke Adam before five.
It was Tristin. "Pa wants the doctor to check Lyle."
Adam grew concerned. "Is he worse?"
"He had a restless night and he don't look so hot. Pa had to leave, but he wanted her to look at him first thing."
The news that Willy was no longer at the compound was also troubling. "When will he return? I have people I need to contact."
"He'll be back before dark. And he's two steps ahead of you; he left a satellite phone at the main house. Nevin's already laying out plans to bring Montague here, too."
"That's presuming a lot."
Tristin shrugged. "You can take that up with him."
Renata was already dressed when Adam returned to the bedroom. He slipped on the handcuffs, felt her shudder. "You have to trust me. Remember: It's part of the act."
She met his gaze. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
At the main house, they found Lyle's condition had deteriorated overnight. His breathing was labored, his color poor.
"How long has he been like this?" She checked his vital signs.
"I'm not sure," Tristin said. "Pa stayed with him most of the night."
She grabbed the bottle of painkillers sitting on the nightstand. The lid was off, pills scattered on the table.
"Any idea how many of these he's taken?"
"Nope."
She tossed the loose pills in the trash and recapped the bottle before handing it to Tristin. "These have to be monitored and kept out of his reach. He could easily overdose."
"He won't like me taking them."
