by Kim Baldwin
Jake stared at Kat, eyeing her up and down, her look of bewilderment turning into one of amusement. Then her face grew serious as she focused on Kat’s shoulder. “You’re bleeding.”
Kat followed Jake’s eyes, for the first time looking down at herself. Nearly every inch of her naked flesh was covered with food. Her left side was slathered with maple syrup. Her right leg had smears of mustard. Spots of flour and cornmeal dotted her lightly bronzed face and arms. Her silk briefs were soaked on one side and clung to her like a second skin. Her shoulder, the object of Jake’s concerned gaze, had a large red smear that looked like blood.
Kat casually reached up with one hand to scoop up a bit of the substance with one fingertip. Then, her eyes on Jake, she put the finger in her mouth and sucked on it in what was, in Jake’s mind, a most seductive manner. After a moment, Kat winked at Jake and withdrew the finger. “Hot sauce,” she announced. “You missed one heck of a food fight.”
She seemed so nonchalant about the whole affair that Jake relaxed a little. “Do I get details?”
“Later,” Kat promised. “Right now we need to get you back in bed. Then I have a few loose ends to tie up.” She crouched down and lifted Jake.
Jake shrieked in pain.
The sound shot through Kat and she froze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Jake took deep breaths to fight the throbbing in her knee and the shooting pain in her arm. “Not your fault,” she managed. “My own stupidity. I was in no shape to try to go after you.”
“Go after me?” Kat asked as she carried Jake toward the living room.
“Thought you were in trouble.” Jake closed her eyes against the pain. When she opened them again, they were in the bedroom and she was being lowered onto the bed. “I seem to have a knack for getting myself into bad situations that you have to come get me out of.”
A half smile formed on Kat’s lips. “I wouldn’t mind a nap and a hot meal before the next crisis,” she said as she examined Jake’s wrist. She glanced at Jake. “But this is not your fault. It’s mine.”
Kat continued her evaluation of Jake’s injuries without further elaboration. She gently probed Jake’s knee, which had swollen badly on one side.
Jake put her hand on Kat’s arm, forcing the other woman’s full attention. She held it there until Kat looked directly at her. “It’s time for some answers,” she said, in a voice that brooked no argument. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ve got a couple of things to attend to first that can’t wait,” Kat answered, looking away. “It won’t take long. I’ll bring back some ice for that knee and reset your wrist. We’ll talk then.”
She turned to leave, but the sound of Jake’s voice caught her at the doorway.
“Kat?”
Kat turned to face her.
“I remembered something.”
Kat’s sharp intake of breath was the only outward sign of her shock at Jake’s revelation. She felt as though she’d been kicked in the gut, but her face betrayed none of her inner turmoil.
“I have a brother,” Jake said. “His name is Hardy. Not much else yet. But maybe my memory is coming back.” She had a hopeful expression on her face.
Kat nodded and forced a smile. “That’s good news.”
Jake saw that Kat’s heart wasn’t in the sentiment and wondered why she didn’t seem pleased at the news. But before she could ask, Kat was gone.
*
Kat’s heart sank as she leaned against the bedroom door, absorbing Jake’s news. Will you still want to kill me when you remember who you are? Kat refused to believe that was possible and felt guilty for doubting Jake. Jake had apparently risked her own life going out into the snow, all because she thought Kat was in trouble.
She couldn’t think about all that right now. She forced Jake’s news out of her mind. She had work to do. She went to the pantry and surveyed the chaos.
Otter was sprawled on the floor, still out cold. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye. There was another above his ear, but neither looked too bad. His face was already swollen from the blows he’d taken. She’d been spot-on with several of her throws.
Otter looked a lot older than Kat remembered. Heavier too. Still the greasy hair, but a lot less of it. Although Kenny had warned her about Otter, she was still a little surprised to see him. She didn’t think he had the brains or the nerve to get this far.
Her mind flashed back to the last time she’d seen him.
She was still working for Garner then. He had put her in charge of a three-man team whose mission was to rescue a kidnap victim—a six-year-old girl—and execute her kidnappers.
Hunter flew into Albany, New York, a day ahead of the rest of the team to get a preview of the walled private estate where the girl was being held. The mansion and its sprawling grounds were nestled in a river valley an hour away in the Catskills.
Hunter studied the place for three hours through night-vision binoculars from a hillside on the adjacent property. There were lights on in several second-story rooms, though it was after midnight. Figures passed by the windows. All men, never the girl. Sentries patrolled at irregular intervals. They’d meet up and have a smoke, chat a while.
Hunter took it all in and added it to the information Garner had given her about their mission. She had blueprints of the interior and a picture of the little girl. And she had several photos of the two men she was to assassinate. They were behind the kidnapping. She didn’t know what their motivation was. It didn’t matter. Her two targets had at least a dozen friends with them, and many of them were armed.
Kenny’s plane touched down an hour before Otter’s, so Hunter got a chance to brief the teenager over a sandwich at the airport bar. He asked all the right questions and regarded their mission with the same seriousness that she did. By the time Otter joined them, Hunter had developed a healthy respect for Kenny’s intelligence and maturity.
Otter was another matter. Hunter and Kenny found him in baggage claim just as he was retrieving his bag.
“Well, well, well. Nice to meet you.” Otter licked his lips as his eyes traveled the length of Hunter, settling on her breasts. “I got to thank the boss. He’s never hooked me up with a hottie like you before, sweetheart.”
“Stick to business, Otter,” Hunter said. She turned and headed toward the exit.
“Aw, c’mon, dollface. We got lots of time to get acquainted,” Otter persisted. He leered at Hunter as the trio emerged outside. “Hey, kid, take a hike, huh? Meet us at the hotel.”
Kenny slowed his steps, uncertain what to do.
Hunter turned and glared at Otter. “Look, little man,” she snarled. “Put your eyes back in your head and shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. We’ve got a job to do.”
His good humor disappeared. He stepped a foot closer, invading her personal space. “I ain’t taking orders from no broad,” he spat.
They stood there a moment, glowering at each other. Kenny remained off to one side, watching.
Hunter pulled out her cell phone and started to dial.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Otter said, backing away when he realized who she was calling. “I didn’t mean nothing by it, no harm done.”
She closed the phone and put it in her pocket. “Let’s go.”
They spent the next couple of hours discussing the operation over dinner in Hunter’s hotel room, the blueprints spread out in front of them.
At 1:00 a.m., Hunter flew them by helicopter to a clearing not far from the hill where she’d studied the estate.
Kenny got them past the computerized security system and inside a rear entrance while Hunter and Otter took out three guards.
They crept up a back stairway in the darkness, toward the second-floor rooms where Hunter had seen the lights. They paused at the top of the stairwell. Two guards were in the hall, playing cards at a small table.
Hunter and Otter knocked them out before they could raise an alarm.
Hunter listened at the door of the f
irst room they came to. Silence. She twisted the knob and eased the door open. A library or study. No one inside.
She started to close the door, but Otter’s hand on her arm stopped her. He waved his gun toward the desk in the room. Behind it, on the wall, a cabinet door stood open. Within was a safe.
Hunter had already seen it. She glared at Otter and shook her head as she closed the door to the room.
He gripped her arm harder. “Five minutes,” he whispered.
She shook him off and clamped her hand over his mouth.
He pushed her away, but did not speak again.
She continued toward the next room, looking back over her shoulder to make sure Otter was behind her. Kenny hung back.
Hunter entered this room as she had the other. The door open a crack, she could see a guard in profile, looking out the window. Propped against the sill was a semiautomatic rifle.
She nudged the door open another inch. She could see the end of a bed. Another inch. There was the girl, asleep.
Hunter turned. Otter was directly behind her. She motioned toward the girl, then looked at Otter to make sure he understood.
He nodded.
She eased the door open and took in the rest of the room at a glance to ensure there were no other guards. The man at the window hadn’t heard them.
Hunter overpowered him before he could react. She joined Otter as he was gathering the girl in his arms and gently shook the girl awake.
“Hi, Sally,” Hunter whispered. “I’m a friend of your daddy, and I’ve come to take you home to him. You have to be real quiet, though, all right? Don’t make a sound, now.” She smiled and put her finger to her lips.
The girl nodded solemnly.
“Wait at the stairwell,” Hunter whispered in Otter’s ear. He nodded and left with the girl, her arms wrapped around his neck. Hunter motioned for Kenny to follow him.
Everything was going as planned. Hunter headed toward the master bedrooms.
She had to hit four bedrooms before she found both of the men whose faces she had memorized. Neither woke. They never would again.
It had taken five minutes.
When she returned to the stairwell, she was not entirely surprised to find the girl now in Kenny’s arms, Otter nowhere to be seen.
“Library,” Kenny whispered.
She nodded.
Otter was at the safe, his attention on the dial between his fingertips. He never heard Hunter slip back into the room.
“Come on, you little shit, or I’m leaving your ass,” she hissed.
He was startled but not deterred. “Almost got it,” he said in a low voice, not turning around, but Hunter was already out the door.
She took the girl from Kenny, and they headed back down the stairwell.
They were crossing over the threshold when alarms rang out. They broke into a run.
The safe was wired, Hunter realized as she sprinted across the lawn, Kenny close behind. She could hear him panting for air.
Lights went on everywhere all at once, illuminating the house and grounds.
They were sitting ducks.
Shots rang out. A bullet hit the sod just ahead of her, blasting bits of earth and turf into the air.
They reached the wall and scaled it, passing the girl between them. A bullet slammed into the stonework a foot to the left of Kenny’s head.
Gasping for air, they scrambled up the hill. Halfway to the top, Hunter took a look back.
Otter was far behind, still inside the wall. He was being pursued by three men on foot. Two other men were shooting at them with rifles from the second floor.
They were almost over the rise when Kenny fell.
The little girl screamed.
“Let’s ride piggyback. Hold on tight, now,” Hunter told Sally as she pulled her onto her back.
She reached down and pulled Kenny to his feet. He’d been shot in the side but was still conscious, and stumbled forward with her support.
Hunter got the girl and Kenny belted into the helicopter just as Otter came over the hill. She scrambled into the pilot’s seat and pulled on her night-vision goggles. Otter was laboring under the weight of a bulky sack. The men behind him were closing in and had their guns out.
Hunter started up the chopper.
Otter was too far away. There was nothing she could do. The girl was their priority, and he had sealed his own fate.
She lifted off.
Ping! A bullet ricocheted off the bottom of the copter.
She hit the throttle.
Hunter saw Otter drop his bag and wave his arms at her just before he fell. She couldn’t tell whether he’d stumbled or been shot.
She’d later learned from Garner that Otter was sent to prison for his part in the raid. But she had no regrets about leaving him behind. The greedy bastard had nearly gotten them all killed.
Bet you have a bone or two to pick with me over that, she mused, looking down at Otter’s supine form. He was as covered with syrup and flour and other unrecognizable foodstuffs as she was. And he stank.
She searched him and found a box of ammo for his .38. Her own gun was on a shelf next to a jar of peanut butter. She went to the weapons room and got two sets of handcuffs and a ring of keys, which she temporarily stuck into one of Otter’s pockets since she didn’t have any of her own.
She grabbed hold of him and dragged him through the living room and tunnel and into the generator room.
“Got some company for you, Frank,” Kat said cheerily as she took out one set of handcuffs and secured Otter’s hands behind his back. “Although I don’t expect him to be quite as cooperative as you have been.” She looked up from her task to glare at him. Her voice turned menacing. “Most of the time, that is.”
Frank averted his eyes and kept quiet.
“You can get back in my good graces, though,” Kat continued. “Just keep an eye on Otter here, and start hollering real loud if he manages to get farther than you did in trying to escape.”
She pulled Otter over to the corner next to Frank and laid him out on his side. The two men made an odd pair. Frank had to be almost a foot taller than Otter and outweighed him by more than a hundred pounds.
She used the second pair of cuffs on Frank, replacing the chain and duct tape. He could move his hands more freely now. He flexed his fingers, restoring some of the circulation he’d lost, and nodded to her in appreciation for the small reprieve.
Kat threaded the chain that had been on Frank’s wrists through his handcuffs and then through Otter’s, binding them together back to back. There was less than four feet of slack between them. With the padlock, she secured that chain to the heavy one attached to the wall.
She didn’t speak again until she finished and headed toward the door. “I’ll be back in a while to feed you and let you move around a bit, Frank.” She paused at the doorway and turned to look at him. Her eyes were cold, her voice threatening. “Don’t disappoint me again.”
Frank looked down at the unconscious man beside him. Otter’s face was swollen and bruised, and he was covered with smears of food. At least he’d find out what the hell had happened. In different circumstances, Hunter in her underwear covered with food might make for an interesting story, but Frank knew he’d never have the guts to tell this one. At least not as it really happened.
A fetid aroma assaulted his nostrils. Frank leaned into Otter, sniffing. Maple syrup, and...fish. Dead fish. He eyed the short length of chain between them and groaned.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kat headed to the kitchen for ice for Jake’s knee. A chill ran through her, and she glanced down again at her near-naked body. She really wanted to shower and put on some warm clothes, but Jake came first.
As she entered the bedroom with the bag of ice, she was not surprised to find Jake sprawled on her back in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. She was still clad in the coveralls, boots on her feet. Kat removed the boots, smiling a little at the myriad of things that had been jammed into the
m to make them fit better.
She unzipped the coveralls and helped Jake out of them as gently as she could, but Jake stirred and groaned.
“Shh. Go back to sleep,” Kat whispered. She reached down to smooth a strand of errant blond hair on the sleeping woman’s forehead, her fingertips lingering to caress Jake’s cheek.
Jake sighed, a contented mewling sound, and drifted back off without ever opening her eyes.
Kat put the ice bag on Jake’s knee and covered her with the fleece blanket, tucking her in like a pampered child.
Kat got a lot accomplished in the hour Jake napped. She took a long, hot shower and put on clean jeans and a sweatshirt. It helped to refresh her and reduce some of the fatigue she was fighting.
Then she tended to Frank, heating up a bowl of soup for him and letting him eat, stretch, and relieve himself outside the main entrance. All of it was done under her careful scrutiny, her Glock held casually in one hand as though it were a natural extension of her arm. Although his bladder had been full an hour earlier, it took Frank a moment to get going under Hunter’s unwavering stare.
Otter stirred only once during the proceedings. He groaned but didn’t awaken.
Once that chore was finished, Kat spent a few minutes on her computer looking at radar and satellite pictures of the weather front that was dumping snow on the Upper Peninsula. The area was expected to get another eight inches or more over the next thirty-six hours, and the winds were expected to increase. It would create whiteout conditions and significant drifting. That should make it impossible for anyone else to follow Frank and Otter’s snowmobile tracks to the bunker.
Kat realized she was absolutely starving. She had burned up a lot of energy during the last several hours, and her body was craving compensation. She headed for the kitchen. From what she’d seen of Jake’s appetite so far, she knew she should probably make enough for an army.
Kat took out the venison tenderloins she’d set in the fridge and seared them in a cast-iron skillet before setting them in the oven to finish cooking. She surveyed the mess in the pantry to see what had survived the battle with Otter.
