The Target

by Gerri Hill

  Jaime nodded. “Good. Thanks.” She stood, her hand gently squeezing Sara’s arm before she walked away. “I’ll try to find another way out of here.”

  Jaime paused to wash her hands in the stream, rubbing to get Megan’s blood off of them. They were lucky. It could have been a lot worse. It was a goddamned stupid idea to try to make it over the top before he caught up with them. But it was the best route, she reminded herself. They didn’t have a lot of options. And now they had one less.

  She walked away from the group then turned a circle, wondering how the hell they were going to get out of here. Go downstream? It would be the easiest route but it would take them in the wrong direction. Besides, if he should see them, all he had to do was head straight down to intercept them. But upstream? God, it looked impossible. She pulled out her map, finding the tiny stream, moving her fingers over the grids as she calculated the elevation gains. If they could make it upstream and over the top, it would put them a hell of a lot closer to the trail than the original route. But could they make it? Could Megan make it?

  “How’s it look?”

  Jaime sighed. “Rough.”

  Sara sat down beside her and pointed at the map. “Show me.”

  Jaime paused. “How’s Megan?”

  “I think in shock.”

  “The bleeding stopped?”

  “Yes, for now.” Their eyes met. “She needs a doctor.”

  “I know.”

  They were quiet, then Sara nudged her arm. “How far behind is he?”

  “I’d say two to three hours.” She glanced at her watch. “He’s moving faster than we are.”

  “Okay. What’s the plan?”

  Jaime moved the map onto Sara’s legs. “Here’s where we are,” she pointed. Her finger moved along the stream to the base of the mountains. “If we can climb up here,” she said, “then over the top, we’ll save about three hours from the original route. Maybe more.”

  Sara looked at the map then looked ahead of them toward the mountain. “Looks steep. Really steep, Jaime.”

  “I know.”

  “What about going down?”

  She shook her head. “Wrong direction. Besides, we’d be heading back into his line of sight.”

  “What if we can’t find a trail?”

  “Then we’ll turn into rock climbers. It’s the only way, Sara.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “What do you mean it’s too windy to fly?” Erickson demanded.

  “Up in the mountains, they’ve had gusts over fifty knots. No way we can send a helicopter up there,” Fielding said.

  Erickson loosened his tie. “What about the team on the ground?”

  “They’ve started out but sir, they’re more than a week behind them. Chances of them catching up are slim.”

  “They’re a week behind and if something happened and forced them off trail, then we’re screwed.” He slammed his fist on the desk. “We need that chopper in the air.”

  Captain Morris turned away then looked at Simon, motioning him into his office. “Shut the door.”

  “What’s up?”

  “They’re not telling me jack, that’s what’s up.” He looked out his window, watching the two FBI agents argue. “They left from Buena Vista but we already knew that. Simon, do you have any idea which route?”

  “No, sir. She didn’t know. She said she was going to intercept them on the trail, then follow.” Russ followed the captain’s gaze. “But isn’t this their show now?”

  “Yeah. But she’s ours. They’re not concerned about Hutchinson. They’re only worried about Michaels. And as soon as they coordinate their team, they’re out of here. Then we’ll know less than we know now.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I’m going to call Captain Zeller. He had a detective who worked for him a while back. She was like Jaime, always up in the mountains. She retired up there, last I heard.”

  “Jake McCoy. She was the one shot by her lieutenant. I remember that.”

  “I’ll see if we can get in touch with her. She knows that area. Maybe she might help us.”

  “You going to tell them?” he asked, motioning to the FBI.

  “No fucking way.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “I don’t know, Jaime.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  Jaime turned to the others. “I’ll go first. We’ll do the buddy system. Help the one behind you and above you. It’ll be steep. We’ll go slow.” She met Sara’s eyes. “We’ve got maybe three hours on him. By the time he finds our route, we’ll be over the top. I seriously don’t think he can make it up this way alone. He’ll have to take the route over the side, like we were going to do. I’m guessing by this evening, we’ll be at least five hours ahead of him, if not more.” She looked at Megan. “I know this is going to be hard, Megan. But it’s the only way.”

  She nodded. “Can I go next to you?”

  Jaime smiled. “Absolutely.” She looked at the others. “Single file. Sara? You bring up the rear.”

  Sara nodded. She would rather be near Jaime—hell, they all would—but she and Jaime were the most experienced. It stood to reason they should both take an end. She glanced behind her, looking at nothing but space, wondering how close he was. They were maybe three hours in front of him, but with a rifle, he was a hell of a lot closer than three hours.

  “Come on, Sarge.”

  Sara looked up, nodding at Lou Ann who was waiting for her. She tightened the straps on her pack one more time then started up, following the others. The climb was gradual at first, the footholds plenty. Then the placid stream turned violent as it cascaded down the mountain. She watched as Jaime and the others moved away from the stream, climbing among the boulders as they made their way higher.

  “It’s like a waterfall,” Lou Ann said.

  Sara nodded. “Sort of, yeah. It just kinda falls down the mountain, doesn’t it.”

  “It’s all so pretty up here,” Lou Ann mused. “And we’ve all been too scared to even notice.”

  Sara gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah. This trip of self-confidence has been shot to hell.”

  Lou Ann looked down at her. “I don’t know. If we make it out of here alive, it’ll be the most exciting thing any of us will ever experience in our life. How can we not come out of this with more self-confidence? I mean, we just had a guy shooting at us, for Christ’s sake! Did anyone get hysterical?” She laughed. “Well, other than Celia. But really, I think it’s everything we learned in your lessons. We do feel confident we’ll make it through this.”

  Sara met her eyes. “A woman died yesterday.”

  “No disrespect, Sara, but Sandra told me this had been the best week of her life. And she truly meant that. Did you see her in the hot springs? She was so different from the woman we first met all those weeks ago.” Lou Ann paused, looking up into the sky. “We all saw what happened. Sandra never knew what hit her. She was talking to Jaime, smiling. Her last thoughts were of being happy. We should all be so lucky.”

  Sara nodded, wondering if perhaps Lou Ann needed to think that, if they all needed to think that. But the fact remained, one of them had died.

  She wiped her palms on her jeans and grabbed the tree limb that Lou Ann had just vacated, pulling herself along. She stopped, watching as Jaime reached down to help Megan. Again, how would they ever have made it if Jaime wasn’t here?

  “Easy,” Jaime murmured, tugging Megan up beside her. “Let’s rest. Let me check your wound.”

  Megan nodded, her eyes closed.

  “How bad is the pain?” Jaime asked the younger woman.

  “I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Megan said hoarsely. “I just want to lie down and sleep.”

  “I know. And I wish we had something to give you.”

  “Tell me again why the first-aid kit is so basic?”

  Jaime laughed. “Lawsuits, my dear.”

  “Lawsuits. Figures. And to think I once thought about being a lawyer.”<
br />
  “Lay back just a little,” Jaime said.

  But Megan grabbed her hand before she could lift her shirt. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

  Jaime turned serious. “No way. We’re going to play doctor until we can find you a real one. It’s just going to hurt like hell.”

  “It’s funny. I didn’t really feel anything when it happened. Just this burning.”

  Jaime frowned, touching lightly against the exit wound on Megan’s back. It was bleeding again.

  “What is it?”

  “Bleeding again.”

  “I have this ache but it feels numb where you’re touching.”

  “Sometimes pain is a good thing,” Jaime murmured as she tightened the tape. Then she felt Megan’s face, feeling the light heat on her cheeks. Could be from the exertion, but most likely, a fever was setting in. Goddamn.

  “Everything okay?” Sara called from below.

  Jaime met Megan’s eyes, smiling slightly. “We’re just taking a little break,” she called back down. She looked up to where they had to go. The steepest part was yet to come. “We’re about halfway there,” she said to those below her. “Everybody ready?”

  “Lead on.”

  “Remember, it’s going to get very steep. Help the one behind you.” She looked down. “Ready?” she asked quietly, squeezing lightly on Megan’s arm.

  “I’m game.”

  Jaime laughed. “That you are, my friend.”

  She stood, pulling herself up, and reached to help Megan stand. Through the trees, she saw blue-green eyes looking at her. Worried blue-green eyes, she noted. She offered a quick smile then turned away. She didn’t have a whole lot of reassurances to give Sara. She was too worried herself.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Peter Michaels paced slowly in his study, pausing to glance at his reflection in the decorative mirror his wife had brought back from France last year. Unconsciously his hand lifted, touching the steel-gray hair on his temples. His eyes moved, meeting his own blue ones in the mirror. A slow smile formed as he studied himself. He’d been called incredibly handsome by the tabloids. He’d also been called a lady killer. He smiled broadly. He believed both of those statements wholeheartedly.

  “Senator? Mr. Dodds is here.”

  Peter straightened his shoulders then turned away from the mirror, directing his gaze to Arthur. Arthur had been with him for years, ever since their days on the city council in Colorado Springs. However, his trust only went so far. And what he and Mr. Dodds had to discuss was not a matter for Arthur to be involved in.

  “Thank you, Arthur. Escort him in, please.”

  “Of course. Do you also wish for Daniel to attend?”

  Peter shook his head. “Actually, this is a private meeting. You can call it a night, Arthur.”

  “But Senator—”

  “And inform Daniel that I’m expecting Mr. Ramsey as well.”

  Arthur finally nodded. “Very well. Good evening, Senator.”

  Arthur closed the door quietly and Peter returned to his desk, waiting. Mr. Dodds knocked once then opened the door. His bulky frame filled the doorway and Peter motioned him inside.

  “Dodds,” he greeted.

  “Pete. Good to see you.” He reached out, shaking Peter’s hand with enthusiasm. “Ramsey should be here within the hour.”

  “Good.” Peter sat down and motioned for Dodds to do the same. “Has it been taken care of?”

  “I don’t have confirmation. But that was the plan. It’ll take him a number of days to return.”

  Peter nodded. “So we’ll assume it’s handled?”

  “Yes. Now we just have to decide how to proceed. There has to be enough remorse over her death so that moderates are appeased. And if we’re lucky, we might even draw in some liberals who are appalled that your lesbian daughter was killed.”

  “Of course, we don’t want to piss off our base. If I show too much remorse, conservatives might get the idea that I approved of her lifestyle.”

  “Perhaps we can use that. You loved your daughter but God saw fit to end her life.”

  “As punishment,” Peter said, nodding. “That could be good.”

  Dodds laughed. “If you use that line, there go any liberals you may have pulled on board.”

  “We don’t need them to win. Our Christian base is sound. Moderates will join us.” He grinned. “And I’ve always enjoyed strong female support.”

  “Well then, let’s discuss the FBI. Eventually, your daughter’s body will be found. There will be an investigation. I don’t anticipate them finding anything out there. He’s a professional. Besides, there’s hundreds of thousands of acres for them to search. He’ll be long gone.”

  “And the money won’t be traced?”

  “After confirmation of her death, the money will be transferred to an offshore account. He will already have left the country. We won’t hear from him again.”

  A sound startled them and they both turned, finding wide eyes staring at them. Joyce Michaels stumbled into the room.

  “Sara?” She brought a hand to her chest. “My God, you’re talking about Sara? About killing Sara?”

  Peter stood. “Joyce? What are you doing? How long have you been there?”

  “Are you insane?” she said, spitting out the words. “She’s our daughter!” she screamed.

  “Joyce, please,” Dodds said, walking to her. “Think about it. We’ll never win the presidency as long as you have a lesbian daughter. It goes against everything we’ve preached all these years.”

  “I wasn’t aware that we were running for the presidency, Mr. Dodds.” She took a step back, looking at Peter. “I can’t believe you’re even talking about this. It’s not okay to have a lesbian daughter but it is okay to condone murder?” She pointed at Dodds. “It’s okay for the founder of the Family Values Association to hire someone to kill our daughter?” she yelled. “I won’t let you get away with this.”

  “Joyce, listen to me,” Peter said, walking closer. “It’s the only way. We’ve worked too hard all these years to let it slip away just because of her.”

  “You can’t even say her name, can you?” Joyce pulled away from his touch. “She’s our daughter, for God’s sake. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  His laughter rang out, his eyes cold as he looked at her. He shook his head. “She’s no daughter of mine. If she was, she would have embraced what I stand for. Instead, she’s gone against me every step of the way.” He walked closer, his height dwarfing that of his wife. “And we both know why, don’t we Joyce?” He glanced once at Dodds, then back to his wife. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about your little affair all those years ago?”

  She gasped, her eyes darting around the room as she took a step backward. She felt his desk hit the back of her thighs and stopped.

  “What . . . what do you mean?”

  “What I mean, my dear wife, is that I know she’s not my daughter.”

  “But Peter, of course she is.”

  He walked away with only a shrug. “Spare me the lies, Joyce. Do you think a man in my position goes blindly into marriage? Do you think all these years I’ve let you have free rein?” He shook his head. “No. Of course not. So all those years ago, after we’d only been married a year at most, did you really think I didn’t know about the man you were seeing? About the man who impregnated you?”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide. “No. No, Peter. You’ve got it wrong.”

  “Do I?” His eyes narrowed. “Such a tragedy, his accident. And he was so young. Shame.”

  She gasped then looked down, unable to meet his eyes. But her voice was quivering when she spoke. “I beg you, Peter. You’ve raised her as your daughter. You can’t possibly be involved in a plot to kill her.”

  “She’s only an obstacle to me, Joyce. An obstacle. She means nothing to me.”

  “My God, you’re such a hypocrite. You preach Christian values, yet you’ve both turned to murder. Murderers! Thou shall not kil
l. Since when does that not apply to you?”

  Peter smiled. “It’s not like I was the one who pulled the trigger, Joyce.”

  Her eyes widened again. “It’s . . . it’s already been done?” she whispered.

  Dodds nodded.

  She screamed, sinking down to her knees, her arms flailing wildly. “How could you? How could you? You won’t get away with this,” she screamed. “You won’t get away with this!”

  The outer door opened and Ramsey walked in, closing it quickly behind him. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Unexpected complication,” Dodds said, motioning to Joyce Michaels. “Please take care of it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Who are you? Get away from me,” Joyce said, trying to stand as she slapped at the hands that grabbed her. “Help! Somebody help me!”

  A strong hand clamped over her mouth and the only sound was that of the electric charge as the stun gun touched her neck. Within seconds, her limp body slid to the floor. All three men stared at her.

  “She could be a problem,” Dodds said.

  Peter shook his head. “No. Once it’s all over with, she’ll be fine.” He shrugged. “If not, we’ll just keep her drugged, won’t we?”

  “Perhaps the rumors of alcoholism might turn out to be helpful after all. She was so distraught by her daughter’s death that she turned to drugs.” He smiled. “I have a doctor at my disposal. We might even be able to get her committed this time.”

  Peter nodded. “Could conjure up some sympathy votes.” He turned away from his wife. “Ramsey, take her to her quarters. Watch her.”

  “I’ll call Dr. Hammond. Have him give her a sedative.”

  “Then we need to discuss the FBI issues. Ramsey? I assume you have updates?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s going as planned.”

  “Good.” He motioned to his wife. “Let’s get this handled then we’ll meet.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Can she make it to St. Elmo?”