Was it possible they’d managed to land instead of crash?
At least there weren’t any other vehicles out here. No first responders. Nothing. Just miles of brush, cacti and rock.
“Boss, how far are we?” Aaron asked via their headsets.
“We’re getting close. Just a couple more miles. Keep your eyes open for movement.” Damian pulled out his phone, double checking the map.
Yup, they were almost on the spot where the signal had last transmitted from.
“What’s our plan when we get there?” Aaron asked.
“What do you think? Kill anything that moves.”
If they had to resort to guns, it wouldn’t look like an accident. Then again, he hadn’t been paid to make this go away neatly. His client had just wanted this to go away, period.
When this was over perhaps Damian needed to get out of the country for a little while. Close shop, lie low, wait for more work to come his way.
Those were thoughts for later.
Damian pressed the accelerator and the buggy shot forward, bouncing over the uneven ground. Some of the guys muttered curses, and he didn’t blame them. The desert terrain was rougher here.
“Hey, you see that light over there?” Aaron called out.
Damian swung his head to the right.
Sure enough, off in the distance, something flashed. It wasn’t big or very bright, but for a moment he saw the silver reflection of what looked to be a piece of the plane.
They were close. They had to be.
FRIDAY. SOMEWHERE IN Gila National Park, New Mexico.
Priscilla had never imagined nature was so noisy. There were bugs and birds and coyotes. Then there was the wind and the weird whistling it did over and through the rocks.
“I was not made to be out here,” Melody muttered.
“Me either. I think the closest I’ve gotten to nature before this is a jogging trail.”
Melody chuckled. “I don’t even do that.”
It was just the two of them, a lantern and a little hand shovel one of the guys had given them before heading off to pee.
“I take it this doesn’t happen often?” Priscilla took the lead since she had the light, picking her way around the rocks that formed their shelter.
“No, this is a first. Well, the guys have done things like this, but not me. I’m usually waiting back at a hotel or a safe house.”
“Careful, this part is kind of slippery.”
“Good thing I wasn’t wearing heels on the plane.”
“Right? I almost did before I remembered we’d be on it the whole damn day. Give me your hand.”
Together they traversed the ground to the other side. The rocks hid them from their campsite and a stand of brush provided both a windbreak and a visual shield from the plane wreckage below.
“You go first,” Melody said.
“Are you sure?” Priscilla set the lantern down on a rock. She’d waited as long as she could before venturing out to pee.
“Yes.” Melody handed the shovel over.
Priscilla sighed and took the tool. “Someday we’re going to laugh about this.”
“Today is not that day.” Melody chuckled and turned, walking a few paces away, giving Priscilla a little privacy.
She’d been a tiny bit surprised Brenden hadn’t insisted on escorting them over here. He’d remained close to her. They’d talked. They’d sat in silence. He’d told her everything would be okay.
“Here goes nothing.” She stared at the bit of undisturbed earth.
There was a first time for everything. She’d just been freed from a cage where she had a toilet out in the open. How was this worse?
Bugs.
Bugs made it worse.
She closed her eyes, undid her pants and a few moments later she didn’t care one bit about bugs. The relief of an empty bladder was enough for her.
Once she was done, she used the shovel to hide the evidence then squeezed anti-bacterial gel onto her hands.
When this was over she was having another long soak and a full body scrub. She was a city girl. This was so far outside her comfort zone and ready to go back to what she knew.
“Your turn,” she announced.
“Great,” Melody said in a tone that belied her true feelings.
Priscilla took a few steps toward the south facing side of the mini-mountain they’d climbed to rise over the crash site. She crossed her arms over her chest and gazed down on the hulking dead body of the plane. The clear night sky glinted off the white and silver body. It was easy to see now that her eyes had adjusted.
The crew was nowhere to be seen. Then again they were probably smart and inside. With toilets and comfy chairs that made okay beds in a pinch.
Did she really think someone in their network would kill her? Was she being overly dramatic about it?
She knew the collective companies owned by Asclepius were worth a lot. It was a cruel and disgusting fact that medicine was big business the world over. But would someone kill them for it? Was this all a mistake? Some malfunction?
The cool breeze sliced through her sweater. She shivered and wrapped it around herself.
A pinprick of light from below caught her attention.
What was that?
“Okay, that’s over with.” Melody came around the brush, lantern in hand.
A series of popping sounds from below echoed off the rocks. Bursts of light cast shadows below.
The sound was familiar. Her body went cold, and she froze.
Melody grabbed Priscilla and pulled her down.
She kept peering through the brush and rocks.
Gunfire.
Someone was shooting down there.
“Move. We have to go.” Melody’s grip tightened.
The lantern flipped off.
“Priscilla, come on. Now. We need to get out of sight.”
A sharp cry was cut off prematurely.
The night chill settled into Priscilla’s bones.
Melody yanked on her arm, and Priscilla followed. They scrambled over rocks and through the brush back to their little camp.
The lights were off and not a soul was in sight.
Brenden was gone.
Where was he?
“Priscilla.” Melody gripped her arms and stared up at her. “Breathe. I need you to not panic, understand.”
“Where are they?” More gunfire. Priscilla flinched and glanced at the rocks shielding her from the site.
“The guys are down there. We have to get to cover.” Melody let go of her and turned, grabbing some sort of shoulder holster thing that put a handgun under either arm.
“The people—”
“Let Grant and the others take care of it. Come on.” Melody clenched Priscilla’s hand and pulled her toward the north side of the rocks.
“Wait. The boxes.”
“There’s no time. Come on. Now.” For a little woman, Melody was remarkably strong.
“I have to have the boxes.”
Priscilla jerked out of the other woman’s grasp, grabbed the top box and was ready to go.
Melody kept one hand on Priscilla’s arm, guiding her down the rocks, through the stunted trees. The gunfire kept echoing off the rocks, making it sound as though they were running through a battlefield. She flinched with every blast and kept looking over her shoulder, certain someone was after them.
They finally reached a rocky screen. Melody crouched, one gun drawn, and peered behind them.
“This is all my fault,” Priscilla whispered. “If I’d done what they ask, none of this would have happened.”
“And if you had, you’d never know someone is selling useless drugs. How many people died because they weren’t actually getting help?”
What about Brenden?
Her heart clenched at the thought of him paying the price for her actions.
“This is all my fault,” Priscilla said again and covered her mouth with her hand.
She’d thought she was doing the righ
t thing. Protecting the charity fund meant providing for people who couldn’t provide for themselves. But now that decision was killing other people.
There was no right call.
10.
FRIDAY. SOMEWHERE IN Gila National Park, New Mexico.
Brenden stayed low to the ground, his eyes locked on the shooter pelting the belly of the plane with bullets.
He and Vaughn had been staring at the crash, watching for movement, when the first shots fired. They hadn’t seen anyone. Their attackers had eluded their detection and now the innocent lives of the flight crew were in their hands. If they died, it was on their team.
Spiny plants picked and snagged his clothes, but he kept going. The rocky ground made for uncertain footing, but he didn’t let that slow him down.
It was unusual to not hear the whispering voices of his team in his ear. He’d gotten used to that. And now, the only thing he heard was gunfire and cries for help.
Whoever these people were, they were trying to get into the plane. The shooter was simply a distraction. The real threat would come if or when one of their attackers got up into the cabin. Brenden couldn’t see the hatch from this angle, but his gut said they were cutting it close.
If he were the one attacking, his people would be in position to make their move. The shorter an op lasted, the less chance of injury to his team.
But they weren’t dealing with someone like him. No, these were the kinds of people who killed indiscriminately so long as there was money. The bottom line was all that mattered.
He glimpsed Nolan to his right, his blond hair glinting in the moonlight.
Their tossed together plan as they geared up was simple. Grant and Riley circled east while Nolan, Vaughn and Brenden went west. Their plan was simple, try to get behind the shooters and stop them. It wasn’t likely to go as planned. If these people had the skill to take down an airplane and ambush them while they were watching for it then they also had night gear and would see Brenden’s team coming.
They still had to try.
For the flight crew and the evidence still on the plane.
Priscilla would be there with them if it weren’t for Melody.
He had to trust that Melody would get Priscilla to safety. Grant said he’d scoped out another spot further away, that the plan would be to regroup there.
Brenden pushed Priscilla out of his mind. It was hard. In the last day, nearly every waking thought he had tied back to her somehow. But right now, if they were going to save the flight crew, he had to focus on the job at hand.
The rock next to Brenden seemed to shatter, sending up shards of the volcanic rock. He hit the ground, flattening himself while he listened and watched for the shooter.
They were spotted. The plan was dead. Now they had to survive.
The bright burst of muzzle fire gave up Brenden’s target. He rose from the ground, gun up, and fired. Another shot from his right went off at the same time. He saw his target, a bit of shadow, flail. Most telling was the gurgled death cry.
One down.
How many of them were there?
In the dark it was impossible to tell. These people moved like ghosts, blending into shadows save for the inevitable gunfire.
Three shots rang out far to his left then two somewhere in front of him.
His team was engaging the enemy.
Someone had to get to the plane.
He had to protect the flight crew. If the rest of his team was engaged in a firefight, that left the flight crew vulnerable to attack.
Brenden straightened a bit more and broke into a run. His feet slid as he neared the bottom of the foothill, his weight and speed working against him.
Another bullet whizzed by him, this time he had no idea where it came from. He ducked and swerved.
A blast of light, away from those trading bullets, caught his eye.
It came from the shelter of the stairs leading up into the plane.
Dread sank into his stomach, weighting him down. He balled up the fear of finding the crew slaughtered and aimed his rifle. Darkness separated itself from the stairs.
He squeezed the trigger as he moved. An answering shot had him swerving, throwing his weight sideways. The rocks underfoot gave way, and he pitched forward.
Brenden tucked his shoulder right before he hit the ground, rolling. Somehow he found his feet, ending up in a crouch, gun cradled to his chest.
He didn’t have time to think. He brought the weapon up, aimed then fired.
The dark shadow staggered back.
Brenden aimed again then pulled the trigger.
Nolan yelled something, calling out to the others. Brenden wanted to answer, to go to his team, but his first priority had to be the crew.
Going against his instincts, he charged forward.
A shrill scream sliced through the chaos outside. It was full of fear. Terror so thick he could taste the bitterness of it.
Brenden gripped the railing and hauled himself up, ignoring the way his shoulder ached and burned.
The inside of the plane was darker, the shadows deeper. Even with the windows open there wasn’t much light to see by. He turned right at the galley, the cabin opening up in front of him.
Something rammed into his ribs. Brenden gripped the rifle and used the butt of his weapon like a ram, driving it into his attacker. The grunt of a man told him this was his target. Before Brenden could get a hold on the man, his attacker shoved him sideways. If Brenden were a smaller man, he’d say his opponent was trying to tackle him.
He planted his foot against the cabin wall and pushed back, driving the man up against the galley. The butt of a handgun smacked into Brenden’s face.
They couldn’t shoot in here. The space was too small. There were too many people. Brenden couldn’t allow it. Priscilla wouldn’t forgive him if he let any of the flight crew die.
He brought the rifle up, clocking the attacker against the side of his head. The smaller man’s body went lax, but only for a moment.
It was the only opening Brenden needed.
He grabbed the man by the front of his clothes with his left hand. With his right he drew the rifle back, the business end of the weapon jabbing against the man’s ribs.
Brenden fired.
The man’s body twitched, and he felt the moment the life went out of the would-be-killer.
Them or us.
It was a law that had governed Brenden’s life since he’d joined the Navy. Even now it held sway.
He let the body slump to the floor.
“Anyone hurt?” he called out over the fearful whimpers.
“Yes,” a woman replied. “The captain is shot.”
Brenden backed toward the door.
Outside he could see forces clustering. His team had driven the attackers back, forcing them away from the plane.
But at what cost?
“One of you come here. I’ve got a med kit. You’re going to have to do what you can to keep him alive.” Brenden unclipped the small pouch from his belt and held it out.
Was this all of them? Were there more? What if this was a ploy? A diversion to draw them out and away?
God, he hated not being in contact with Melody. Not knowing Priscilla was safely away from all of this.
Priscilla had been right. His gut had known it. She was the target. What she knew, the evidence in the belly of this plane, it was big enough that someone wanted all of them dead.
They were going to have to go through Brenden first. He wasn’t going to let anyone harm Priscilla so long as he was here. She was one of the good ones. The ones who cared. Who’d suffered enough. He’d be damned if someone snuffed that light out.
FRIDAY. SOMEWHERE IN Gila National Park, New Mexico.
Priscilla kept her hands braced on the cardboard box, her eyes searching the desert surrounding them. She strained to hear another shot, a cry of pain, something. Anything.
“What do you think happened?” she whispered.
Melody radiated n
ervous energy, yet her words were calm. “I think everything is fine.”
“Bullshit.”
“I have to believe they’re okay.” There was a cold note to her voice, a fear that echoed Priscilla’s own.
She reached over and took Melody’s hand in hers. Priscilla was so used to being the one out front, the one in the middle of things. Being back here, waiting, it was tough. The not knowing was the worst.
There were ten people out there. Ten lives she should be thinking about. And yet, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that Brenden was the one she was most concerned about. He was the kind of brave, selfless idiot who would sacrifice himself for someone else.
“They stopped shooting,” Priscilla said.
Melody squeezed her hand a bit.
A bit of shadow to the right of the rocks on their hill moved, becoming man-shaped.
Priscilla’s heart throbbed in her throat. “There.”
“Look.” Melody leaned forward.
Neither of them spoke.
Priscilla hardly dared to breathe.
The man rounded the rocks. It became harder to see him with the hill at his back instead of the night sky. Neither Priscilla nor Melody moved. They didn’t speak. They watched as the man picked his way toward them, as if he knew exactly where they were.
He emerged from the darker shadows of a stunted tree.
Those shoulders.
His height.
Priscilla knew that man.
“Brenden?” she said.
Melody pulled on Priscilla’s arm.
Priscilla didn’t care. She stood, needing to see him better, to go to him.
He lifted his hand and Melody let go of her.
Priscilla jogged forward. It was hard to breathe. Her vision was blurry.
She’d been in some scary situations when she was a teen and then this last week, but nothing like this. The plane crash, this attack, it was because of her. Because she couldn’t leave well enough alone.
People were dying because of her.
Priscilla ran straight into Brenden, wrapping her arms around him. His vest and accoutrements pressed painfully into her, but she didn’t care. She held onto him, squeezing him tight and let a few of those tears fall.
“It’s okay. It’s over now,” he muttered.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 12
