Christmas Kidnapping
Page 7
Jack and Andrea reached the last cabin in time to see a compact, balding man emerge from the building. He stared toward the flames, then took off running.
Jack didn’t hesitate, but raced into the cabin. Inside, Andrea pushed past him. “Ian!” she called. “Ian, Mommy’s here!”
Frantic thumping led them to a back room, where Ian lay on a mattress on the floor. Though his hands and feet were tied and a bandanna served as a gag, he kicked his feet against the floor. “Oh, Ian!” Andrea knelt and pulled her son close.
Jack joined her and worked the knot on the bandanna loose and removed the gag. “We’ll untie you later, buddy,” he said, scooping the boy out of Andrea’s arms and standing, biting down hard to keep from crying out as pain shot through his injured leg. “Right now we have to get out of here.”
After checking to make sure no one was looking their way, he ran out of the cabin and around the side, into the woods behind the camp. They made no attempt at stealth this time as they slogged through the heavy snow, followed the riverbank back toward where he had parked his truck. Behind him, he heard Andrea stumbling through drifts and shoving aside the branches of scrub oak and piñon.
Ian lay still in Jack’s arms, staring up at him with huge, frightened eyes. “It’s okay, buddy,” Jack said. “You’re safe now.”
“Jack!” Andrea’s scream froze him. He whirled to find her tangled in camouflage netting. She clawed at the wet jute that covered her head and shoulders.
“Hang on—let me help.” He carefully laid Ian on the ground. “Hang on just a minute, buddy,” he told the boy. “I’m going to get your mom.”
He approached her slowly, wary of any other traps. The netting had dropped from a tree overhead and Andrea was thoroughly tangled, her legs and arms partially protruding from the mesh, her body tilted upside down. “Hold still and I’ll cut you loose,” he said. He pulled out his pocketknife and began sawing at the thick jute.
“Hurry,” she pleaded. “They could be right behind us.”
“Just a few more cuts... There!” He sliced at a last cord and pulled the netting from around her. “This must be one of the traps they set for us,” he said. “We were lucky we didn’t run into one on our way to the camp.”
“Let’s hope our luck holds out.” She looked over her shoulder. “Do you think they realize we’re gone yet?”
The noise from the camp faded, and it had begun to snow harder. The fire might already be out. Anderson and Leo had probably checked the cabin by now and discovered that Ian had disappeared. “We’d better hurry,” he said, and picked up Ian again.
Another five minutes of stumbling through the woods and he spotted the truck up ahead. “Do you have the keys?” he called over his shoulder.
Andrea moved alongside him and hit the button to unlock the vehicle. She ran ahead and opened the passenger door. He deposited Ian inside, then took his knife from his pocket and handed it to her. “You can cut him loose while I drive,” he said, taking the key from her and moving around to the driver’s side.
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat and pulled Ian onto her lap. Jack was sure those were tears running down her cheeks and not melted snow, though the storm had returned in earnest, a blanket of white falling from the sky.
“Anderson and Leo are probably looking for us by now,” he said as the truck’s engine roared to life.
“Do you think there were others?” she asked, her arms tight around Ian.
“I didn’t see any sign of anyone else. I think it was just the three of them.” Two now, he thought. “They’ll have a hard time catching up to us now.” At least, he hoped that was the case. He had no idea what kind of arsenal those three had at their disposal. Previous experience with Braeswood’s group had suggested they had almost limitless resources. Braeswood had a fortune of his own and had managed to recruit more than a few wealthy donors to his cause. Plus, the Bureau suspected foreign groups contributed to his efforts. The feds, on the other hand, had to deal with numerous budget constraints.
“Those are bad men,” Ian said.
“They are,” Andrea agreed. “But you were very brave.” She sawed at the ropes that bound his hands. Once they were severed, she turned her attention to the ties around his ankles.
“I peed my pants.” Ian sounded as if he was about to cry as he made this confession. “I couldn’t help it. The man wouldn’t untie me so I could go to the bathroom.”
“It’s okay, honey,” Andrea said. “That doesn’t matter. And the snow has washed you all off now anyway.”
“There are some blankets behind the seat you can wrap up in,” Jack said. He hit the controls to turn up the heat. Now that they were out of the storm, a chill was setting in. He had to gun the engine to guide the truck through the fast-accumulating snow. He braked at the edge of the woods and prepared to turn out onto the road. As soon as they were well away from the camp, he would call his team and let them know to be on the lookout for Anderson and the rest.
He nosed the truck up onto the shoulder of the road, then stopped to wait for a car to pass. “Do you think the people in that car could see the fire at the camp from the road?” Andrea asked.
“They saw the fire, all right,” Jack said, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “That was Anderson driving, and Ian’s guard, Leo, was beside him.”
“Where are they going?” Ian asked, his face creased with worry.
“They’re running away, honey.” Andrea pulled Ian against her, as if to hide him from his kidnappers.
Or they were looking for their escaped prisoner. Or rushing Gravel Voice to the hospital. But Jack didn’t want to say anything to upset Ian more. Better the boy see them as having the upper hand. Which, in this case, maybe they did have. He shifted into gear and roared out onto the highway, the back end of the truck fishtailing as he fought for purchase on the slick pavement. He glanced toward Andrea and Ian. “Buckle up,” he said. “We’re going after them.”
* * *
ANDREA WRAPPED BOTH arms around Ian and braced her feet against the floorboards as the truck rocketed down the snow-covered pavement in pursuit of Ian’s captors. She couldn’t believe that after all they had risked to get away from these guys, Jack was going after them. “Leave them,” she pleaded. “Let the police take care of this. I just need to get Ian home.”
“If we let them go, they’re liable to come after you again.” Jack hunched over the steering wheel, his expression grim.
The thought sent an icy cold through her that the truck’s roaring heater couldn’t touch.
“Mom, you’re squeezing me too tight.” Ian squirmed and shoved against her.
“Sorry, honey.” She loosened her hold and he shifted around to sit in her lap, facing forward. She tried not to think what would happen if they crashed. But she hadn’t thought to bring Ian’s booster seat with her, and now didn’t seem the right time to try to belt him into the backseat. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right.”
“I’m not scared,” he said. Eyes bright, he focused on the taillights of the car ahead of him. “This is just like in the movies.”
What kind of movies has he been watching? she wondered as the truck skidded around a curve. They were close enough to read the Colorado license plate on the car ahead, but the kidnappers hadn’t slowed down. “I just hope they don’t start shooting at us,” she said.
“Get down!” Jack shouted as the muzzle of a gun appeared in the passenger window.
She dived to the floorboards, on top of Ian. “Mom!” he yelped.
“Just stay still, honey.” She closed her eyes, waiting for the shots she was sure were coming.
Instead, she heard the whine of the tires change cadence. “We’re crossing the first bridge,” Jack said. “The road’s g
etting icy, but I think we can make it.”
Think? But the tires found purchase and she breathed a sigh of relief. She raised her head, trying to see what was going on.
“Stay down,” Jack said. “They might try to fire at us again.”
“What are they doing?” she asked.
“They’ve sped up.” He pressed down on the accelerator and the truck fishtailed, sliding back and forth as he fought to bring it under control. Jack shook his head. “The road’s too slick. They’re having a hard time, too.”
“They’ll have to slow down at the second bridge, won’t they?” she asked. She remembered a rickety-looking wooden structure, scarcely two lanes wide.
“They ought to, but with the snow coming down, they may be worried about getting to the highway before it becomes impossible to travel.”
“What happens if we can’t reach the highway?” she asked.
“We’ll be stuck on this side until the weather clears.”
And the bad guys might be stuck with them. Her stomach clenched at the idea and she hugged Ian more tightly.
“Why are we down here on the floor?” he whined. “I want to sit up where I can see.”
“That isn’t safe, honey. We can’t get up until Jack tells us to.”
“This is a dumb game,” Ian said.
Andrea only wished it were a game. “Just stay down there until I tell you the coast is clear,” Jack said. “Do that, and you’ll win a special prize.”
“What prize?” Ian asked.
“Do you like race cars?” Jack asked.
“Yes!”
“I have a friend who owns a real race car. I’ll get him to take us for a ride in it.”
“Wow!” Ian pressed himself even closer to the floorboard of the truck. Clearly, nothing Andrea could have offered would have appealed to him more than the prospect of a daredevil ride in a real race car. Never mind that they were already racing much too fast down a snow-slicked road. Apparently, in their brief acquaintance Jack had already figured out something about her son that she hadn’t known—that Ian had a love for speed. She was both touched that he had paid so much attention to the boy and disturbed that there was something about her son she hadn’t known. Was this only the first of many secrets that would be hidden from her because she was female?
“We’re almost to the second bridge,” Jack said. The truck slowed, then stopped altogether.
“What is it?” Andrea asked. “What’s wrong?”
“The road is blocked. It looks like an avalanche from the cliffs above.”
“What is Anderson doing?”
“He’s stopped, too... Now he’s backing up.”
Andrea sat up. “Is he trying to ram us?”
Jack put the truck into Reverse. “I don’t know.” He began backing up as well, putting more distance between them and the sedan.
But Anderson didn’t ram them. Instead, he stopped again, about a hundred yards back from the bridge. Then his brake lights went out and tires screeched as he shot forward. “What is he doing?” Andrea asked.
“I think he’s going to try to bust through the snow,” Jack said.
“Can they do that?” she asked.
“So far, they’ve proved they won’t let anything keep them from getting what they want,” he said, his expression grim. “But I won’t let them succeed this time.”
Chapter Six
Wanting to close her eyes but unable to look away, Andrea sat up and stared in horror as the sedan hit the wall of ice and snow. A spray of white exploded up on either side as the car hit the obstacle, then skewed sideways. The driver fought for control, but the car slid off the pavement and into a deep drift. “They’re not going to make it,” she said.
Smoke poured from beneath the battered hood. “They’re not going anywhere now,” Jack said. He started the truck and rolled forward.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I want to be close enough to nab them when they bail and make a run for it.”
The sedan’s driver shoved open his door, but he managed to force it only a couple of inches before the snow blocked it. A few seconds later, Anderson climbed from the driver’s side window. Leo exited from the other side. Jack stepped out of the truck and drew his gun.
“This way, gentlemen,” he shouted. “Keep your hands where I can see them and no one gets hurt.”
Anderson glared at Jack. He shouted a curse, then climbed onto the bridge railing and dived into the rushing water. On the other side of the bridge, Leo jumped, as well.
Cursing under his breath, Jack began peeling off his jacket. “What are you doing?” Andrea asked.
“I’m going to pull them out before they drown.” He bent to untie his boots. “And then I’m going to arrest them.”
“Jack, that water is freezing. And the current is really fast. They’re not worth it.”
But he kept peeling off his coat. Snow plastered his shirt to his back, his muscles rippling as they moved. When he turned to face her, she stared at a single melted snowflake making its way down his throat.
“Andrea.”
She swallowed hard and told herself to breathe again. Now was definitely not the time to be lusting after a man. He’d just...surprised her. She’d been so focused all day on saving Ian that she had forgotten how strong and good-looking Jack was. He pressed the .44 he had taken from one of the kidnappers into her hands. “Keep this for me.” Then he handed her his shoulder holster with the Glock. “And this.”
“You can’t go after them unarmed.”
“The guns are no use to me soaked in the river, either.” He touched her cheek and gave her a half smile. “Don’t worry. I’m a strong swimmer.”
He was also recovering from a gunshot wound. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, she knew the wound still bothered him. As he made his way toward the bridge, clad in only jeans and a flannel shirt, she detected the slight hesitation every time he put weight on his injured leg.
“Where is Jack going?” Ian asked. While she and Jack had argued, the boy had climbed onto the seat beside her.
She sighed. “He’s going to do his job,” she said. A job he clearly took very seriously. Just like Preston. The night her husband had died had been like this. She had begged him not to go on that raid. He was officially off duty and the SWAT team was prepared to handle things.
“It’s my case,” he had said as he’d slipped on his Kevlar vest, then buttoned up his shirt. “I need to be there.”
She’d stood at the front door, baby Ian in her arms, and watched him walk away from her, toward danger. He is always going to choose duty over his family, she had thought to herself. It was the way things were supposed to be, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to live with.
She slid out of the truck. “You stay inside,” she told Ian. “You can watch out the window.”
With the shoulder holster draped around her and the .44 in her left hand, she took a few steps toward the bridge until she had a clear view of Jack making his way down the snowy embankment and of Anderson in the icy water. She couldn’t see the other man, on the other side of the bridge, but Anderson was making slow but steady progress toward the opposite shore. Waves swamped him, and he had been carried a ways downstream, but before Jack reached the water’s edge, Anderson crawled out onto the bank.
The kidnapper looked at Jack, then turned to look downstream. The other man stumbled toward him. Jack stood with his hands on his hips, staring after him. Leo made a rude gesture in his direction, and then both men began walking up the road, soon disappearing from view in the curtain of snow.
Andrea walked out to meet Jack. “I’m sorry they got away,” she said. “But I’m not sorry you didn’t have to go in after them.”
“I couldn’t be any colde
r than I am already.” He followed her back toward the truck. “How’s Ian?”
“He’s okay. He’s a lot calmer about all of this than I am.”
“Kids are a lot tougher than we think sometimes. And he’s with you now, so that makes everything all right.”
“Everything doesn’t feel all right. What are we going to do?”
He walked her around to the passenger side of the truck and held the door for her, then reached into the backseat and pulled out a gym bag. He grabbed a towel from it and rubbed at his hair as he walked around to the driver’s side. “Hi, Jack,” Ian said when Jack climbed into the truck. “You’re wet.”
“You’re right, buddy. And I didn’t even get to go swimming.”
“It’s snowing so hard you could almost go swimming on land,” Ian said.
Jack laughed, and the boy joined in. The deep, masculine chuckles mingling with little-boy giggles made Andrea’s breath catch. How was it possible to feel such joy and such fear at the same time? “You must be freezing,” she said.
“I’ll be okay.” He shrugged back into his coat. “I’ve got a spare change of clothes here in the truck.” He tossed the damp towel into the backseat, started the truck again and put it in gear. “We’re going back to the camp,” he said. “We can stay out of the weather in one of the cabins, get warm and decide what to do next.”
* * *
JACK PARKED THE truck on the road and walked into the camp alone. This time, Andrea hadn’t argued with him. She had slumped in the seat, her arms locked around her son, looking too exhausted for words. Ian, however, had cheerfully offered to come with him. “You’d better stay here, buddy,” Jack had said, smiling in spite of his own weariness and the stabbing pain in his leg. “You’ll get too cold out there.”
“I like to play in the snow,” he said.
Jack laughed. “Maybe we’ll do that some other time. Right now I need you to stay with your mom and keep her company. She’d be pretty lonely if we both left her.”