Mojave Rescue

by Tanya Stowe

  Then last night the text had come through. He was finally going to meet the devious leader of a group who had infiltrated the highest echelons of government security and still managed to escape detection. The end was so close Cal could taste it...until he’d heard Drina’s message. The taste of victory turned sour in his mouth.

  An already-dangerous situation had been made even more complicated by the disappearance of one dark-haired scientist.

  Drina Gallagher was brilliant—and prettier than he’d anticipated. He’d heard so much praise about her work, he’d expected an older, more staid woman to walk into his briefing room, not a perky, petite beauty who created an immediate internal reaction he didn’t want or expect.

  Drina hid behind some overlarge black-rimmed spectacles, but that was where the scientist stereotype ended. Behind those glasses was a pert nose, a pair of hazel-colored eyes that seemed to change color with her mood and a tiny, fragile-looking body. Capped by a head of short, shiny black hair that wanted to curl, she looked more like a hyperbubbly nerd than a world-renowned scientist...a nerd that had somehow ignited feelings Cal had buried deep with his true identity.

  She sparked sweet thoughts of laughter and fun, which was ridiculous because her out-of-sync look hid a snarky attitude. Some of the men on his team in Washington believed she might be the spy. But Cal had recognized her I’m-checking-out look as soon as he began his briefing on security. Drina Gallagher wasn’t the leak. She was just as driven as he. Focused on her work and nothing else. He doubted she’d heard a word of his briefing or even cared about being cautious.

  Maybe if she’d paid attention she wouldn’t be missing right now, and two long, desperate years of Cal’s work wouldn’t be on the line.

  As he’d alerted her superiors and his, he wondered if the man behind the text was “the boss.” Was his contact the mastermind who had eluded detection for so long? Was Cal being played...and lured into a trap?

  He didn’t know the answers and until he did, until he met and could identify the traitor, he couldn’t take any chances or trust anyone—not the military, not Drina’s company, not even the security detail he worked with on the base. What was more, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a direct link between his scheduled meeting with the boss and Drina Gallagher’s disappearance.

  During the long day his on-base security team had contacted Drina’s coworkers and family, searching for a reason she might have chosen to disappear. They dusted for fingerprints—even tried to match shoe patterns in the dirt beside the place where Drina’s keys were found. They found no evidence, no clues as to who might have snatched her. That fact alone convinced Cal that the boss and his gang were involved. They never made mistakes and Cal’s team had no idea what had happened to the petite engineer.

  But Cal had a sinking feeling in his gut. The text about his meeting with the boss had come too close to Drina’s kidnapping to be a coincidence. It felt more like a step-by-step process...like they were leading Cal to something.

  All day long his mind went over scenarios and possibilities—some path, any avenue he could take to salvage his undercover identity and still save the girl because there was no doubt in his mind she was in that shack. Once he drove over that hill, both their lives would be in deadly danger.

  * * *

  Whir. Whir. Whir.

  The soft spinning sound matched the throbbing in Drina’s cheek. She opened her eyes bit by bit, hoping to pinpoint the source of the noise. Instead, everything began to spin so badly, she thought she might throw up. She gagged and, for the first time, felt the tape across her mouth.

  Panic surged through her. She tried to reach for the tape but her hands were tied at her back. The sharp plastic edge of a zip tie cut into her wrists.

  Panic swept over her and her gag reflex kicked in again.

  Calm down, Drina! Close your eyes. Breathe slow and deep.

  Inhaling through her nose eased the roiling in her stomach. Slowly but surely, she calmed her breathing. Awareness returned. She lay on the ground, on her side. Dirty grit bit into her cheek. The soft whirring remained in the background—steady, consistent, like the beat of a drum or...a wind turbine.

  Giant wind turbines dotted the hills surrounding the mountain passes into the valley. Those turbines turned the ever-present gusts coming through the passes into energy. Drina had taken a tour of one of the wind farms on her first trip out west. Now she recognized the sound of the massive blades swooping through the air.

  She braced herself, then opened her eyes bit by bit. Vertigo didn’t overwhelm her this time but it took a moment to focus. She lay facing a door. Sunlight streamed in beneath it. She wasn’t on the ground after all, but on a rough-textured slab of cement. Wind gusted and the metal walls and roof rattled. Shovels and picks hanging along the wall began a precarious shimmy that threatened to send them tumbling to the floor.

  She had to be in one of the small service shacks beneath the turbine fields. She wasn’t sure where, but she knew the base had no tall turbines that would interfere with air traffic. The base and any kind of military police or help was far, far away.

  What time was it? How long had she been unconscious? Where were the men who’d kidnapped her?

  My backpack. Where’s my backpack?

  She rolled over, her gaze scouring the shed. Her backpack and computer were nowhere to be seen. She sagged against the floor. Those men, whoever they were, had all her information. Had they fled and left her here? How long would it be before someone found her stranded in this little-used shed? Or, worse yet, would her captors return?

  A thousand questions marched through Drina’s mind...all soundless...all unanswered. She lay for what seemed like hours until the steady pounding in the side of her head faded and she drifted back to sleep.

  She woke to the sound of a car. Instantly, Drina tensed. Could it be the service people...or had her captors returned?

  Her gaze darted to the door. The sunlight beneath was dimmer; it was later in the day.

  The car stopped. Doors opened. Gravel crunched as someone stepped out.

  “He’s late.”

  Drina didn’t recognize the voice, but it sent a shiver up her spine. Deep, hard...and cold as arctic ice.

  “What do you expect?” Another voice. “With the girl missing, the base is on high alert. They’ve had him on the spot all day.”

  The man they were waiting for was someone who worked at the base? Could he be the leak Norwood had talked about?

  “All I can say is, it’s about time he earned his pay.” The first man spoke again, his voice tinged with disgust. “Frankly, I don’t think he’s worth the money the boss pays him.”

  “Not our business, Whitson. Besides, the inside info he’s passed on has helped.”

  Drina caught her breath. The man they waited for was the informant.

  “It better help. I’m getting itchy and when I’m itchy, trouble’s on the way. I want to get out of here before it hits.”

  “Relax. The boss knows what he’s doing.”

  “I’m not so sure. Not this time. I’m telling you, Carter, kidnapping that girl was a mistake.”

  “You won’t say that after the boss sells that weapon of hers. It’s gonna give you a nice tidy fortune.”

  These men were black market munitions sellers. They’d offer her plans to the highest bidder. Sagging against the gritty floor, she trembled. Everything she feared was coming to pass and she could do nothing to stop it.

  “There’s his car.”

  Drina listened, every muscle in her body tense. Another car engine came closer and stopped. A door opened, setting off a loud beep, clearly audible inside the shed. Given its persistence, the driver must have left the door open and the keys in the ignition.

  “About time you got here. The helicopter is on its way.” Whitson spoke first. Drina barely heard his growled wo
rds over the insistent chirp of the alarm.

  “It can’t land here with all these wind turbines.” The annoying alarm made it hard to hear, but she knew that voice from somewhere...

  “Our rendezvous point is just over the hill in an open space.” Carter sounded calm.

  “Yeah, and you almost missed it.” Whitson butted in. He seemed determined to take his frustration out on the newcomer.

  “What did you expect? You left me with a mess. I had eyes and ears all around me.”

  Eyes and ears. The words and the voice coalesced. Drina knew where she’d heard both, and her blood turned cold.

  Cal Norwood, head of program security. The man she was supposed to trust had betrayed her.

  Panic assaulted her senses. Her breath came in rapid gulps. Nausea rose again. But Norwood’s next words stopped the rising fear like a brick wall.

  “What happened to the girl?”

  “She’s in the shed.”

  “Here? You brought her here? What were you thinking?”

  Even Drina could hear the threat in his tone.

  “Relax, Norwood. The boss ordered it. Did you bring the money?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like it. Twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money just to be carrying around.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back. And then some. Hand it over.”

  Their actions came to Drina like muddled rustlings. She had no idea what was going on. Until Norwood spoke again.

  “That’s the girl’s backpack.”

  “Yep. We’re going to put the money in her bag and leave it behind.”

  A long pause followed. “You want to make it look like she sold us the plans.”

  “Finally, the bright boy catches on.” Drina was beginning to hate Whitson’s nasty attitude.

  “We need suspicion thrown off you.” Carter’s tone acted like a balm on the tension between Norwood and Whitson. “We’ll leave your car here, door open, keys in. Eventually the gas will run out and it’ll look like you stumbled onto our exchange, caught us in the act and the girl got hurt in the resulting conflict.”

  “You mean killed.”

  Norwood’s words made Drina’s blood drain.

  “What’s the matter? Squeamish now that the real work’s starting?”

  Whitson seemed determined to start a fight with Norwood. But the traitor kept his cool, not responding to the other man’s insulting baits.

  “Shut up, Whitson.” Carter took the lead. Drina heard a thud of something tossed. “Plant the money and finish this. I’ll check with the guys in the helicopter to see how far out they are.”

  Finish this. He means finish me.

  Desperate, Drina rolled to her back again. Her gaze swept the shed for an escape or a weapon...something. Maybe if she could get to that shovel...

  The door opened before she could move. Norwood filled the portal. He looked taller. Still handsome in his black leather jacket and jeans. Like a dark messenger bringing death.

  He held her backpack in his hands. Crossing the room, he knelt and laid it beside her. He was close enough for her to see the gray tint of his blue eyes and the taut tension lines along the side of his mouth. Suddenly, he winked.

  Drina’s eyes widened. What in the world...?

  “Open the backpack and pull some of the money out on the floor.” Whitson had followed Norwood in. “Make it look like we had a fight.”

  The man looked the way he sounded. Short. Shaved head. Solid...like a bodybuilder. And he had a gun clamped in one meaty fist.

  “Here’s the deal, Norwood. We can’t make it look like she’s the guilty party unless we shed just a little of your blood, too. So I’m gonna have to break your nose. You can imagine how unhappy that makes me.” The man’s grin radiated pure evil.

  Drina’s gaze darted back to Norwood’s. He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Ready?”

  Ready for what?

  Barely moving, his hand shifted ever so slightly beneath his jacket. Drina followed the movement and saw a gun tucked into his waistband. His finger flicked a lock.

  Drina looked up, startled. He was going to shoot Whitson while she lay trussed up, helpless and in the direct line of fire.

  Drina started to protest, to shake her head. Norwood raised his eyebrows again and nodded a signaled countdown. Once... Twice...

  No, I’m not ready!

  Her screamed protest was muffled by the tape and didn’t stop Norwood’s countdown. When he reached three, he rolled to his side, pulled the gun loose and fired.

  Two

  Whitson’s face slacked in shock before he doubled over. His fingers clinched on the trigger and bullets ripped across the shed. Norwood dived for Drina, covering her body with his.

  The gunfire stopped. Leaping to his feet, Norwood kicked the gun away from Whitson’s body. Then he pulled a knife out of his pocket and knelt beside Drina.

  “We only have seconds.” He cut the zip tie at her feet. “We need to get to my car.”

  He cut the tie at her hands and pulled the tape loose from her mouth. Drina took a much-needed breath and tried to speak but the fire burning through her hands and feet cut her words short. All she could do was cry out.

  “I know. The circulation hurts like crazy, but you’ve got to stand up.”

  Norwood pulled her to her feet and held her upright as her legs and ankles screamed and refused to work. He hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her across the shed to peek out.

  “It looks clear. Let’s go.”

  Pulling her behind him, Norwood stepped outside. Drina followed. A bullet hit the doorway near her head, piercing the metal edge with a jagged hole. This time her scream echoed loud and clear. Norwood fired back, pointing in the direction of the black SUV parked in front.

  With one swift move, Norwood pulled her away from the door and around the corner of the shed. Drina barely had time to see Carter’s head popping up on the other side of the vehicle. Right in front of the shooter, on the SUV’s hood, was her computer. Norwood pushed her down and she sprawled to the ground while he knelt and fired back.

  More bullets pierced the metal shed, going straight through to where they crouched. Norwood ducked lower.

  “We can’t stay here. Can you run yet?”

  She nodded, hoping she could. Crawling to the back of the shed, Drina cringed as jagged rocks pierced her palms. Her rescuer pointed to an outcropping of rocks about thirty feet away.

  “When I say go, run for those rocks. Don’t stop and don’t look back. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Go!”

  Drina leaped to her feet and almost fell. Norwood grasped her arm and steadied her as they half ran, half stumbled across the open space. She expected to feel a bullet pierce her back any minute.

  They spilled over the rocks. Norwood rolled. Drina fell flat, gasping, her lungs burning almost as much as her hands and feet. She lay face up, her eyes closed.

  “I don’t believe this. It can’t be happening.”

  Norwood crawled back to the rock wall and peeked over. “Believe it. My worst nightmare and what you thought would never happen just happened.” He took aim and fired back at the shack. “We can’t stay here. Carter can keep us pinned down indefinitely...at least long enough for the helicopter to show up. Then we’ll be outnumbered.” His gaze shot to the culvert below. “Look down there.”

  Drina rose to her elbows and peered down at a small metal shed—right next to an all-terrain vehicle.

  “If I can get down there, I think I can get that quad started.” Norwood cast a worried glance her way. “You’ll never make it down this hill, but I can come back for you.”

  Drina stared at him, eyes wide, nodding, punctuating each of his words with a dip of her head.

  “You...will...come back for me, won’t you?”
>
  He paused, grasped her arm and squeezed. That little touch was the most reassuring thing she’d felt in twenty-four hours.

  He pulled Whitson’s gun out of his waistband. “Take this.”

  She stared at the black weapon and shook her head. “I...I can’t kill anyone.”

  “You wouldn’t hit him even if you tried. Every time you see Carter pop his head out, point and fire. He’ll think it’s me. That will give me time to get down there without him shooting me.”

  He flipped the lock and handed it to her. She grasped it with numb, tingling fingers.

  “Remember, just point and click.”

  She nodded again, then rose enough to peek over the rock, just in time to see Carter at the corner of the shed. Norwood took the gun out of her hand, aimed and fired. Carter lunged back out of sight. Cal gripped her hand and placed the weapon back in her palm.

  “Fire again every minute or so. That’ll make him keep his head down. Watch the other side of the shed. He’ll try to come at you from there next.”

  With that, he crawled to the edge of the rocks and slid down. She watched him kick dirt high in the air as he loped down the hillside three...four steps at a time, dodging around two fallen Joshua trees, straggly coated arms still reaching to the sky. Carter fired another shot, which startled Drina. Turning, she fired the gun...just to make noise. She had no idea where the bullet went, but she had to protect Cal. Maybe he was the leak, a traitor to their country. But he’d just saved her life and was helping her to escape. He deserved her help in return.

  She fired again then turned back to watch Cal sprint across the clearing to the shed below. Grasping the ATV, he shook it, probably rattling the gas tank. Then he used the handle of his gun to break the lock on the plastic compartment and lifted the lid.

  Carter fired another shot. It pinged off a nearby rock and forced Drina to turn around. Closing her eyes, she counted.

  Numbers, she could do. Numbers were normal. They gave her courage. At sixty, she popped her head up, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.