Ghost's Treasure

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Ghost's Treasure Page 10

by Cheyenne Meadows


  Her nerves tightened into balls as she waited, hiding in the hallway, away from all the windows and doors, praying their visitors wouldn't see her, give up, and drive off. However, she knew those prayers would go unanswered. She didn't have that kind of luck lately.

  A strong banging on the front door drew her attention. She held her breath.

  "Miss Summers. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

  Josie flinched at an all too familiar voice. Robert Harris, the fake FBI agent, real-life burglar who had a track record of killing if deemed necessary to obtain the object he sought. Frantically, she weighed her options. Staying in the cabin provided safety as long as he remained outside, didn't pick the lock, or kick the door in. He might consider shooting through the door or even burning down the small house, but she'd warrant he'd already tossed aside those options. As long as she held the secret to the hiding place of the treasure, he needed her alive. Although alive carried several definitions, she knew he wouldn't flat-out kill her, at least not yet.

  Ghost already hunted in the woods surrounding the small cabin. Harris probably didn't come alone, putting Ghost at a decided disadvantage in numbers. With plenty of adversaries to keep him busy, he couldn't rush to her aid. Fear raised its ugly head as the odds against them seemed to swell.

  "Don't make me come in there. The longer you make me wait, the less merciful I'll be."

  She shuddered, then gasped as the front doorknob rattled. Without a second thought, she tightly clutched the rifle, and scurried to the back room. Pulling the closet door open, she pushed the tiny buttons in the far corner, then stepped back to allow the back wall to shift open. After closing the closet door back, she stepped inside the secret passage, punched the inside button, waited for the door to begin to shut, then spun on her heels. The narrow tunnel had only dim lighting from a string of lights attached to the ceiling, but she hurried along, trailing one hand along the wall to keep her balance and to help guide the way. Just a few more steps. The exit should be just ahead at the cave entrance.

  Suddenly, the air grew cooler as she emerged from the tunnel at the very entrance to a small cave. Squatting down, she half-crawled through the mouth of the rocky outcropping, not pausing until she stood once more on solid forest ground.

  If you have to run, head toward the creek at the east base of the mountain. The brush will provide cover. I'll find you there. Ghost's words played through her mind.

  Sucking in a breath, she trotted through the maze of evergreen trees, rocks, and slippery slopes, reminding herself to stay to the left as much as possible.

  Crack. Crack.

  A chunk of bark flew off a nearby tree and into the air.

  Josie bottled a shriek and ran like she'd never run in her life, thankful for years of cross-country running experience to help her navigate the uneven terrain at such a flat-out pace. Just get to the cover Ghost mentioned. She clung tightly to the rifle, holding the weapon against her body to avoid banging it against vegetation and potentially knocking her only protection out of her hands. Her feet churned as she jumped and dashed, trying to move as quickly and quietly as possible but knowing anyone without a few yards would hear something large crashing through the woods in a heavy charge or frightened attempt at escape.

  Her breathing sawed as she skidded down a particularly steep embankment, landing on her rear as she hit bottom. Jumping to her feet, she darted forward once more like a rabbit fleeing from a hungry fox.

  Just as she began to doubt the vague compass in her head, she glimpsed the small winding creek just ahead. To both sides, thick trees and smaller bushes lined the banks, as if crowding in for a small drink of water during the long dry spells.

  Hurdling a fallen log, she leaped over the stream, and landed smartly on her knees. She stood back up, turned right, and found the best cover possible. Without further consideration, she dove under a tall bush, ignoring the lower branches scratching at her face and arms, positioned her rifle to fire, and waited. Slow deep breaths. Get your heart and lungs under control. She heard her biathlon instructor's stern commands as she lay on the cold earth.

  Steady, Josie. You just might have to make the shot of your life. Always before, missing the silver dollar sized target in the prone position made for penalty laps to be skied or time to be added. Not this time. Granted, she had a much larger target, but this time she'd potentially pay with her life if she missed.

  She focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. A twig snapping yanked her attention to the right, just in time for a bullet to ricochet off a nearby rock. Her finger tightened on the trigger, then the gun recoiled as she fired. Pop. Pop. Pop. Three shots rang out in rapid succession.

  Harris toppled over and lay unmoving.

  "Easy, Josie. It's me." The low whisper startled her for she had no clue Ghost was anywhere near. Glancing over, she saw him on his belly, slinking up to her at a slow but steady pace.

  He settled in beside her, not even jarring a single branch of the thicket. Amazing considering the thickness of the brush and the rough, unforgiving ground they lay on. She breathed out a sigh of relief at his appearance.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah." She tempered her voice to his level, a bare whisper that carried no farther than themselves. "You?"

  "Fine."

  "That is… was the fake FBI agent that showed up at my work. The one Ryan labeled as a deadly thief who never took no for an answer."

  "Any idea who the others are?"

  "Not unless they're his buddies or hired help. I only saw him. Ryan said they caught the other guy who called my cell phone. The second phone call he said was legit."

  * * * *

  Ghost raked her with a look. She seemed a bit rattled but no worse for wear. Scratches marred her face and hands, but they'd heal soon enough. Not bad considering the other alternatives.

  When he'd heard running, then shots, his heart had sped as a surge of worry hit him like a lightning bolt. He had abandoned his position in a tree and rushed toward the noise, realizing Josie must be sprinting for her life to the creek. Never before had he been so careless in reaching a location, unconcerned of the noise he made or the fact he ran full-out upright. Nothing had mattered more than getting to her before a bullet found her.

  He had to give her credit. She followed instructions, found a good nest to defend, and shot the man hot on her trail. Most women probably couldn't have risen to the occasion. Josie not only stepped up, showed courage and bravery under fire, she exceeded and essentially saved herself. He saw her with a new level of respect.

  He'd debated taking her with him before but decided their best chances resided with her staying in the safe house while he patrolled the perimeter, taking out any threat before they drew close to her. Much better than dragging her through the woods, risking a bullet to the back. Unfortunately, best laid plans go awry.

  Glancing ahead, he noticed the body lying across the ground. His and Josie's bullets had hit the man at the same time. He didn't know where hers landed, but he knew for a fact the man wouldn't be getting up.

  "That's two down."

  "How many more?"

  "At least two. Perhaps three."

  "Are we going to wait for them or try to run?" Those green eyes met his, a flicker of fear broadcasting loudly.

  For the first time, her eyes didn't shake him to the core. Instead, he focused on the emotions, the mirror to her feelings, and felt long dormant protective instincts surge to the fore. No matter what, he'd get Josie out of this mess alive. She was too good a person to die because some overgrown bullies were intent over fancy, old baubles.

  He considered possible strategies for a moment before falling back on his strong suit and years of training as a Navy SEAL. "We stay. Take on the role of sniper. They'll stumble across us eventually or they'll give up and leave."

  She met his gaze and gave a nod. "Just tell me what to do."

  "Watch that direction. I'm going to turn around to watch behind us. You see anything, jus
t shoot."

  "Okay."

  He dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Text Ryan. Tell him what's going on."

  She accepted the phone and started poking buttons. When finished, she handed the item back. "How long until they arrive?"

  He caught the gleam of hope in her face. "No telling." Not what she wanted to hear, but the truth. They'd driven three hours to the cabin, Ryan would have to as well. Sure, he could call a closer FBI office to respond, but that opened another can of worms. His gut clenched at the thought of men unknown to him tromping through the woods in search of them. He had no way of identifying them as FBI agents, the remaining killers, or some other person who might have heard the gunfire and decided to investigate for themselves. Even if they wore the dark-colored jackets with the letters 'FBI' boldly printed on the back, he could never be sure they truly belonged to the agency. No, safety lay in playing extra cautious until this assignment came to a complete end. However much longer that meant sticking to Josie.

  Taking a moment, he studied her. Despite his heavy coat, her small frame would quickly cool stretched out on the frozen, damp ground. His body next to hers would provide minimal body heat. The FBI backup might be hours in arriving, not to mention two or three more tangos combed the woods searching for them. Staying put made the most sense, even if the conditions were less than ideal. Josie would just have to hold up a little longer.

  Easing his body around, he sidled up to Josie, his head at her feet, gun at the ready. Josie's view of the steep slope would be fairly easy to watch. If a man topped the hill, he silhouetted himself against the sun and trees before taking a hard slide down. He left her to watch that direction for a reason. His area possessed more brush, flatness, and an innumerable amount of places a smart man could hide and slowly sneak up on a less eagle-eyed and prepared man.

  The first shiver ripped through her body just a few minutes later. Ghost easily felt the telltale motion from his position right up against her. He swore under his breath. He couldn't hurry the tangos along, take the breeze away, or warm the earth. Long ago, he learned to ignore the weather conditions or risk being shot by an enemy combatant. Hard lessons of hypothermia had to be overcome before any man could wear the SEAL tag, a pivotal trial where many candidates threw in the towel. Not to mention, the mark of a true sniper lay in the ability to camouflage and lay motionless for hours at a time, ignoring the complaints of their bodies. As much as he wanted to offer Josie some comfort and warmth, he had nothing.

  He needed another plan and fast. One that provided protection for her and allowed him to do what he did best: hunt. Scanning the woods, he found few places to hole up, and the cabin could easily be breached, as Josie already discovered. There had to be somewhere else, hidden and small enough she could hold her ground if necessary. A sudden thought hit. That's it. The secret passage.

  Carefully digging his phone out of his pocket, he sent Ryan another text, telling him to hold off with reinforcements. He had a decent plan. Besides, he had no intention of still being around by the time Ryan arrived.

  He'd stash Josie in the tunnel, hunt the remaining bastards responsible for their present predicament, gather up their belongings, and head out.

  Simple.

  Scooting around, he leaned in close and spoke softly in Josie's ear. "We're going to make our way back to the cave that attaches to the escape tunnel. It's easily defendable with the small mouth and the escape tunnel if you need it."

  She stared at him for a long moment. "Where will you be?"

  "Hunting."

  Her mouth opened, then shut. With a slight nod, she worked to gain her feet. Once she stood, he warned her to crouch and follow right on his heels. Satisfied she'd do as instructed, he began their slow trek back up the hill.

  Chapter 22

  Listening and waiting, Ghost slipped under a thick bush, flattened out, and brought his gun up to peer through the scope. Angling from side to side, he checked the dense woods for his prey, the men who took the bait and followed the tracking device to their remote location. Whether they realized they walked into a trap, he didn't know or care. The only thing that mattered was taking them out of the equation, a skill he excelled at for the past ten years.

  With practiced calm, he settled in, constantly searching for one of the remaining men to stumble into the crosshairs of his high-powered rifle. Navy SEAL training taught him to ignore the chill sinking into his body, to control his breathing, and simply blend into his surroundings as an expert sniper whose skills the military depended on more often than not.

  A flash of color caught his attention. Swinging the rifle back around with minimal motion, he focused on the area, patiently waiting for another movement no matter how small. Before his next breath, the dark blue windbreaker appeared in his line of vision, first hugging a tree, then slinking around a downed log, until finally pausing to kneel behind an evergreen thicket. It was the last thing he did.

  Ghost opened fire, a rapid double tap, which knocked the man to the ground.

  Gunshots answered from near the cabin.

  Josie. His heart pounded as he darted from his cover, running full-out toward the entrance to the cave where he left her, thinking her safe and more than capable of defending herself surrounded by three walls of natural stone. Clutching his weapon at the ready, he moved as quickly as possible, more than prepared to hasten another tango straight to hell.

  A bullet whizzed by his head, sending him to the ground once more. Cussing under his breath, he crawled forward, scanned the area for the shooter, and shot off a couple of rounds in the direction he determined the bullet came from. Let them eat dirt while he moved steadily toward the small cave entrance and Josie. Chunks of forest floor kicked up in front of him. Ghost dived behind a nearby boulder, snuck the barrel of his gun over the top, aimed, and fired. When no further projectiles headed in his direction, he resumed his methodical trek.

  Pop. Pop. The classic sounds of shooting set his feet to churning over the rough terrain, not slowing in the least as he raced for his destination. Bounding over a weedy patch, he skidded to a halt to the left of the cave entrance. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped the rifle over his shoulder, the strap securing the weapon catching tight as he pulled his pistol from his leg holster.

  Two strides landed him at the mouth of the cave. Swinging around with his gun at the ready, he ducked under the rock lip and found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

  Instinctively, he shoved the business end skyward, then yanked the weapon from her grasp.

  "No!" She leaped for the gun, kicking and clawing.

  "Josie. It's me."

  Her attack didn't fade, only increased as she gained a purchase on the wood stock of the rifle.

  Ghost buried his face in her neck, gathered his strength, and took her to the ground in a hard lunge. Laying his full weight over her struggling body, he grasped her wrists and pinned her hands above her head. She gasped, her smaller frame pressed farther into the hard earth when he shifted to cover her flailing legs.

  "Josie. It's Ghost. Stop fighting."

  She froze at his words whispered into her ear.

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her face, making out those big green eyes in the dim light provided by the few rays of the sun that were able to sneak past the shadows of the small entrance to the secret tunnel. "It's okay. I'm here now." Recognition finally appeared on her face. Slowly, ever so slowly, he released her arms.

  Immediately, she threw her arms around him, holding tight. He returned the embrace, feeling the shudder sweep over her. "You're safe." He offered what comfort he could, reassuring her, while letting the last of her scare fall away.

  Josie drew in a deep breath and gradually loosened her hold on his back. "Thank you for coming back for me. He was so close. Too close." Her small frame trembled once more.

  Sitting up, he pulled Josie to her feet. "Where did he go?"

  She shook her head, dusting off her pants. When he held out her ri
fle, she accepted the weapon with sure hands. "Last I saw he snaked along halfway down the hill, trying to backtrack to the cabin."

  He nodded and spun around. "Stay here. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he ducked back into the woods. Gliding over the ground, he reached the western edge of the house when the sound of an engine turning over caught his attention. Surging ahead, he topped the hill just in time to see a white SUV moving rapidly down the dirt road, dust rising in the vehicle's wake. He lifted his gun, aimed, and fired.

  "Shit." Disgusted, he lowered the rifle and spun on his heel. The remaining man or men escaped, too far away for his shot to do any good. His miss created a whole new danger for them. The wealthy employer of the hired thieves and killers knew where they hid out, how much protection Josie had, and an indication of their firepower.

  Stragglers never boded well in his profession. Loose ends came back to haunt you.

  Trotting back the way he came, he called out as he neared the cave. "Josie. Come on out. He's gone."

  She crawled under the rock lip, stood up tall, and glanced around before meeting his gaze. "Gone? Why do I get the feeling that's not a good thing?"

  "Because it's not." He gestured with his head. "Back inside. We've got to pack up and hit the road."

  "Okay." Josie walked by him, steady on her feet despite the recent battle, which would leave some men and most women shaken and in a panic. He had to give her credit for courage and tenacity. As much as she'd been through in the past few days, she held herself together with impressive control and stoic determination. She even managed to throw in bits of humor now and again, finding the lighter side of life. Despite the hounds of hell on her heels, looking to torture her for information, then kill her outright lest she finger them to the feds, she held her wits and found a reason to smile. All in all, a good person and an outstanding woman. A rare find these days.

  He hated the mission from the get-go, but she proved a decent teammate, dependable and sharp. She earned his trust and respect with her attitude, fortitude, and sheer guts under duress. Because of her, the nightmare assignment turned tolerable.

 

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