Defensive Action

by Jenna Kernan

  She glanced about but saw no one.

  The second man was running toward her now, arms extended. She stumbled backward two steps before falling to her rear end. Only then did she realize that her pursuer aimed a pistol at her. But as he rounded the edge of the cabin Ryan appeared from the darkness, vaulting from the steps and onto the man’s back. She saw the silver flash of a knife blade. Her pursuer dropped to his knees, both hands clutching his throat. The gurgling sound told Haley that something terrible had happened. She scrambled to her feet. Ryan was already moving toward the man who had toppled from the porch. Ryan dropped to one knee and with a quick, efficient movement of his arm slit the man’s throat.

  Haley gained her feet, turned tail and ran. She did not run with a destination in mind. She did not run with a plan but she did run for her life. She was somewhere between the canoes and the Wolf cabin when Ryan caught her and brought her to the ground. His hand went to her mouth and his lips went to her ear.

  “Quiet now, there may be more of them.”

  She nodded so he would know she understood. Slowly his fingers dragged from her mouth. She was choking on sobs as he gathered her close, holding her to his chest, cradling her as he rocked her, whispering to her as she clung and sobbed.

  “It’s okay, Haley. I got you. I won’t leave you again.”

  She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. Ryan stroked her hair, rubbed her back and made quiet sounds of comfort. At last she tipped her head back, looking into dark unfathomable eyes.

  She trembled, clinging like a lost child. “It was them. You told me. You warned me. I didn’t believe. I didn’t believe that they’d come for me. How did you know that they’d find me?”

  She was babbling, rambling, chattering like a monkey, but she could not seem to stop. He drew her gently to her feet.

  “Not the same men, but the same organization.”

  “How did they find me so fast?”

  But she knew. If anyone in the world knew how simple it was to locate, track and intercept a person who was hooked into social media, it should be her. It was how she made her living, finding and exploiting weaknesses.

  Ryan wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and guided her down to the lakeshore, past the canoes on the dock, the kayaks and into the tall reeds where his canoe waited. This time she gave him no argument as he scooped her into his arms and carried her through the knee-deep water, depositing her onto the small seat at the front of the canoe.

  He offered her a paddle. “Ever use one of these?”

  She shook her head, accepting the smooth wooden paddle and holding it upright before her, choking the neck in sweaty hands.

  “Just hold on to it for now. Grab the gunnels,” he whispered.

  “The whats?”

  “Sides of the canoe. I’m shoving off.”

  Haley gave a little cry as the canoe moved beneath her. She dropped the paddle and it banged against the metal frame, the sound loud as a gong in the still night. Haley stretched her arms out to grasp the gunnels as mud and gravel scraped the bottom beneath her. Ryan stepped inside and gave one last push with his foot to send them into deeper water.

  Ryan gained his seat as Haley looked back toward the camp. She saw someone wading out to his hips.

  “Ryan!” she yelled, pointing.

  He turned. Simultaneously, she saw the muzzle flash and heard the pop of a gunshot. Ryan spun on the metal seat, bringing both hands together, and returned fire. The man dropped into the water. At first she thought he was moving behind the dock for cover, but the complete silence had her skin crawling. Ryan waited, pistol aimed and ready, but no target presented itself as they drifted farther along the shore.

  Then she saw it, the large object floating motionless in the water, and she knew that shooter would not be coming after them. Ryan held his position, motionless, patient.

  Finally, he lifted his paddle and scooped it through the dark water beside the canoe, sending them forward and out of sight of the camp and Cabin Muskrat where two corpses lay in the front lawn and one floated in the lake.

  Looked like her adventures were well underway.

  * * *

  THEY HAD NOT been seen but it would not take a mastermind to recognize that three men had arrived in a van but the drivers of the bullet-riddled sedan were missing along with gear and a single canoe. They would be looking for at least one person, likely two. He assumed they would do a sweep of the cabins beginning in close proximity and working outward. Roadblocks would be erected. Vehicles would be searched and identification checked. His most pressing problem was that he was nodding off as he paddled. He had spent the better part of the day tied to a folding chair getting pummeled between rounds of questioning. It had taken time to convince them that he had hidden the flash drive when in fact, he had never collected it from Takashi, choosing instead to lead them in the opposite direction to give the other operative time to make the drop as planned. Then he could return to Lake George to collect the goods. Unfortunately he was the only one besides Takashi who knew where to look and that was only if Takashi had survived long enough to make the drop. His failure to report in would signal trouble but that would not tell them where to look for him, Takashi or the flash drive.

  Ryan pulled for all he was worth. How long until the local sheriff arrived and took his boat out to look for night paddlers?

  He figured he had maybe two hours.

  “You came back for me,” she said, her words drifting to him on the cold, crisp air.

  He glanced toward her position. She sat hunched on the seat, hugging the paddle as her entire body vibrated with tremors. He wished he could take her in his arms again. It had felt right, too darn right, he realized. This little woman was rapidly becoming more distracting.

  “Will they come after us?”

  “The police?”

  “No, the other ones. The ones chasing us.”

  “I don’t know how to break it to you but three more of their guys are KIA. Everyone, from the state police to their guys, will be after us.”

  “KIA?” she asked.

  “Killed in action. Dead.”

  She nodded and then tried to paddle but she had her paddle on the same side as him. If the stroke had been a good one it would have turned them. Instead, it nearly rocked her into the lake.

  She gasped and pulled back her paddle as if afraid to try again.

  “Other side. Paddle opposite me. I’m switching every third stroke. Match your strokes to mine and don’t lean.”

  “No leaning. Got it.”

  And she did. Within three cycles she had the timing down and was doing an effective job conveying them. She had a natural coordination and grace. Even in the starlight, she was a pleasure to watch in motion.

  “Done this before?” he asked.

  “As a kid. My dad used to take me and my sister...” Her words dropped off. He waited but she said nothing more.

  He took them well south of the camp and then out across the lake. Here they would be most vulnerable cutting across the reflective surface of the lake. But he knew the law enforcement officers and first responders would begin their search at the camp and that roadblocks would be erected on Route 9 as soon as the dead were mistakenly identified as DEA agents. It would take a day or so for them to realize these men were not what they seemed but by then the hounds would be back on their trail with everything they had. He knew they had both drones and helicopters at their disposal.

  Ryan headed for the small community of Adirondack on the east side of Schroon Lake. From there he needed to make it the fifteen miles to Lake George. Unfortunately those fifteen miles were rough and rugged wilderness area that would skirt around Pharaoh Lake and up and over Pharaoh Mountain.

  First priority was to hide this canoe and leave it behind. They glided silently along. Only the pull of the paddle made a sucking sound and cr
eated tiny whirlpools in its wake. Water lapped gently against the sides of the metal canoe. This lake was over two miles in length, a narrow finger with two wider knuckles. The inlet was to his north; the outlet was to his south. If he were the one predicting course he would have aimed for the outlets at the south end and set up a perimeter accordingly.

  Ryan dipped his hand into the icy lake water and splashed it onto his face, hoping the cold and wet would help rouse him. His brain felt fuzzy as if his head were filled with cotton. They’d hit him in the head more than once, so he assumed this was the result of a concussion and hoped he wasn’t bleeding into his cranium.

  The dark outline of the lakeshore drew nearer with every stroke of his paddle. Haley said nothing but continued industriously pulling with the paddle. She was naturally athletic and coordinated, recalling the physical motion quickly.

  He drew them alongside a protruding dock. Set in the pines he could see the glint of moonlight off glass. A lake house, he suspected. The canoe slid to a halt as he caught the edge of the dock.

  “Can you step out?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she replied. Haley gathered herself on the seat, gripping her paddle, and smoothly stepped onto the dock. He dragged the canoe slightly forward and asked her to retrieve the packs. Once they were both unloaded, he continued on to the shore, paddling quickly to help drive the front end of the canoe up onto the gravel bank. There he exited the canoe and brought it the rest of the way ashore. Haley waited on the dock for him. He helped her carry the gear to the canoe and instructed her to wait for him. She ducked down low, following his instructions exactly. He had no concerns that she would run off. Not after what she had witnessed—three men coming for her.

  Ryan made a quick perimeter sweep. The lake house was ample. Beside the house was a canoe. He decided to add their canoe to this one. Hoping the removed numbers and the existing canoe would allow his conveyance to hide in plain sight.

  He returned for Haley, upending the canoe and carrying it over his head. Haley carried one pack and followed him. She helped him place the canoe silently beside the house.

  “Are we staying here?” she asked.

  “No, they’re going to search empty buildings for us. They’ll start on the west side but they’ll get around to this place and I need rest. We need to make camp in a place they will not find us.”

  “Where’s that?” she asked.

  “Haley, I need to get back to the place where my contact left the package. He gave me the location this morning in person before we were separated. I have to head for that spot.”

  Ryan collected the second pack and then took them up the driveway, then followed the road that hugged the lakeshore’s east bank, heading north. He used his headlight to consult the map and then flicked it off again. They hiked in silence under the cover of the pines. The road was paved and narrow, created solely to provide access to the residences on this side of the mountain lake. The golf course marked the narrowest part of the lake and a stream that would take them eventually to the Pharaoh Lake trail. This way was rough with no maintained road or hiking trail. Going was slow, but he knew the forest would make them disappear. He continued on until Haley’s lungs heaved like a bellows and she began to stagger and weave.

  “Okay. We’ll camp here.”

  Haley folded at the waist placing her palms on her knees as she gasped. She straightened as he helped her remove her pack. He brought them to the base of a large white pine, knowing its wide branches and thick needles would keep any rain or dew off them. As Haley’s breathing slowed her teeth began to chatter. Without the exertion of the hiking her damp clothes were cooling her skin and making her shiver.

  “Cross hiking off the adventure camp list,” she said.

  He chuckled but Haley’s expression was grim.

  Ryan removed his pack and quickly set to work erecting one of the tents, his vision going in and out of focus. It was designed to be a single-person tent only large enough for one man and one sleeping bag. He handed Haley a water bottle as he turned back to the tent, placing both pads down and then rolling out both blankets. He sat beside her, sharing the granola bars she had discovered. He sipped the water sparingly. When he snapped awake, he realized that he could postpone sleep no longer. He used the last of his waning energy to throw one end of the climbing rope over a branch of an oak tree some fifty feet from their camp and hauled up their packs into the leafy canopy.

  “Why are you doing that?” she asked.

  “Keep the bears and ’coons out of our food supplies.”

  Her body went rigid and her shivering momentarily ceased. “Bears? Did you say bears?” She pointed at his tent. “I’m not sleeping on the ground with bears.”

  “Where would you like to sleep?”

  “My apartment but barring that...” She pointed straight up.

  “I have the guns from three of our attackers and you have the fourth. We don’t have to worry about bears.”

  “Well, that’s one thing off the list. Should I set up the other tent?”

  “If you like, or we can sleep together in this one.”

  She shifted her gaze from the tent to him and then back to the tent. He tried to remain professional as his body responded naturally to the prospect of having Haley’s small, curvy body pressed to his. He thought he did a commendable job of keeping his expression serene as his heart rate and breathing accelerated.

  Haley eyed him cautiously and then looked at the tent.

  “Kind of small. Isn’t it?”

  “Keep the bugs off us and I can keep you warm.”

  “I’d imagine so.” She had her hands on her hips. “I’ll sleep out here.”

  “No, you won’t. The bugs will eat you alive.”

  “There aren’t any bugs,” she said, arms lifted.

  “It’s too cold now. But in the early morning, they’ll come. Biting flies and mosquitoes.”

  Still she hesitated.

  “Haley, you’re cold. I’m exhausted. I need to sleep so you decide. I’m going inside.”

  He crawled into the narrow tent and rolled his blanket poncho as a pillow. Then he slipped under the other blankets. He left the tent unzipped. He could hear her stamping her feet and the sound of the castanets that her teeth had become. He had not intended to drop to sleep but he did, leaving her outside the tent with her indecisions.

  Chapter Seven

  Haley stood outside the tiny tent with her arms wrapped tight about herself and her teeth tapping together as if sending some distress signal via Morse code. She was positive that she would not be able to erect her tent alone in the dark, with or without a headlight. She was also fairly certain that she would be unable to loosen and lower the two packs he had tied so neatly up and out of sight.

  “Ryan?” She waited but received no answer. She inched closer to the tent, listening. From within the flimsy nylon she heard a soft snoring. The man was already asleep. And he had both blankets!

  Above her in the pine tree came the scratching of tiny claws. She flipped on her headlight and searched the tree canopy but saw nothing. Her heart was now slamming into her ribs. She lifted the beam higher and then she saw it. About twelve inches in length with eyes as big and black as twin marbles. The coat was gray on top and, judging from the thin, pink, hairless tail, it looked to belong to the rodent family. Haley blew out a breath.

  “To heck with this.” Haley scrambled into the tent, pausing only to zip the closures. There was no room to sit up. She hunched at the lower end of the tent. The frame held the nylon approximately three feet at its highest in the center above Ryan’s head. She crawled along beside him, stretching out on the padding. It was then she realized that he was using his makeshift poncho as a headrest and had both blankets up to his chin. But she knew his chest was bare under that and the knowledge accompanied the image of his muscular form.

  She exhale
d against the kick of desire.

  “Oh, gosh.” Haley was not inexperienced with men, but all her encounters involved safe, carefully vetted men who were as harmless as bunny rabbits. Now it seemed she shared a tent with a tiger.

  She pressed her lips together and exhaled a long dragon’s breath as she debated the wisdom of yanking the third blanket out from under his head as her shivering grew worse. She shone her light on Ryan’s face. His cheek was bruised and swollen. The gash at his hairline looked painful, the dark scab already forming. His eyes squeezed shut and then one flicked open. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes from her light. Then he lifted one side of the blankets to her. Her headlight’s beam illuminated the pale length of exposed male flesh. The angry purple bruises glowed on his ribs. How had he paddled and hiked and shot an arrow at the guy that came to kill her?

  “Come here, Haley, so we can rest.” His voice was low and sexy.

  She swallowed her reservations, or tried to, only to discover her throat was too dry.

  Haley was certain of his intentions. He wanted to sleep and to keep her warm and safe. It wasn’t his fault that just a glimpse of him made all systems go haywire.

  She flicked off her light and unlaced her boots. Then she slipped beneath the blankets beside him, lying on her side with one leg resting on his muscular thigh and one hand hugging the thick bicep. He smelled of sweat and blood and pine.

  She closed her eyes and wondered if she had ever been this tired in her life. Ryan’s snore reassured. They were safe for the moment.

  “Camping,” she whispered, mentally checking off one more item of the adventure camper’s list.

  Haley smiled and then dropped off to sleep almost immediately, without her iPod playing the Italian opera she used to tempt sleep, without her app to create the soothing sounds of the ocean or rain or a faraway train whistle. She also stayed asleep, missing her customary late-night panic attacks where she woke covered in sweat and trembling. At such times she would rouse from bed, use the bathroom, make a cup of tea and settle in to read in bed until her eyes dropped closed at last. Haley had tried anything and everything to keep herself from dwelling on her sister’s horrific death. Nothing worked except, apparently, exhaustion mixed with Ryan Carr.