by Jenna Kernan
“Haley? Eat. We aren’t stopping for lunch.”
She lifted her oatmeal, stirring the congealed mess. Her appetite had fled with her sense of security. This man was as dangerous as wandering away from your friends on Bedford Avenue. She believed what he said but she needed to get away from him. His mission was not hers. Her mission was to get back home alive.
She choked down the oatmeal as Ryan deconstructed the tent and rolled their bedding. He had the packs ready before she had even finished washing her cup.
She followed Ryan through the forest for most of the morning until they emerged on a trail, marked with a yellow plastic disk nailed to the trunk of a tree.
“Is this the trail you wanted?” she asked.
“Pharaoh Mountain. Yes. We can take this to Graphite and from there follow the road to Lake George.”
“I’ve been there! Big cold lake. The Minne-Ha-Ha, that’s a paddle-wheeler, and mini golf. Oh, the town is cute, with ice-cream shops and nice stores.”
Ryan was looking at her with an odd expression.
“They may have captured my courier. He may be in their hands right now. We aren’t going mini golfing.”
Haley nodded. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“We may see hikers. So if we do, you and I are dating. I lost my shirt by hanging it over the fire to dry and it fell in.”
“What about the bruises? All those abrasions?”
“I’ll keep them under wraps. We are making a circular hike to the summit and then back to the Crane Pond parking lot.”
“All right, Crane, like the bird.”
“Yes. Your name is Anna Parker and I’m Don Gill.”
“Unimaginative.”
He adjusted his shoulder strap. She could only imagine how that heavy pack felt rubbing against his raw skin.
“The point is to be completely forgettable. No bright clothing, no interesting stories, just as dull as we can possibly be.”
“That’s no problem for me. But we’re in trouble,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
She shook her head. “Any female who sees you is unlikely to forget.”
His grin was wide enough to show dimples proving her point. Forgettable, Ryan Carr was not.
Chapter Nine
Haley did her level best, but even the flats were difficult for her with the heavy pack. He’d sprayed down her pack and her T-shirt in an effort to keep the blackflies from biting. Instead, they swarmed at a distance, coming in to bite and swerving away, repelled by the scent of the spray. She spent most of the morning either stumbling along or waving her hand before her face. In the sunny places the mosquitoes did not trouble her, but in the shade of the trees and the thick pine groves they seemed to lift from the forest floor and find any tiny place that bug spray had missed.
At noon they stopped at a spring to refill their water bottles and to scratch her bug bites. He instructed her to only drink from the water bottle through the filtering straw so as not to get any nasty little stomach bugs that would make her walk even more miserable. They ate the last of the granola bars and the fruit he had stolen from the cafeteria of the adventure camp.
Her shoulders throbbed. Her lower back ached. And she had never been so sweaty in her entire life.
But that wasn’t quite true. She recalled hiking Lake George with her father and mother and sister back when they were a family, complete and whole. She let her gaze wander about the clearing, catching glimpses of the lake through the trunks of the trees, and realized she’d missed being outdoors. Haley remembered a similar trip with Maggie, a day hike at Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York State with the most amazing views.
She missed searching for the spotted orange salamanders she’d spied in the early spring along the way. Missed the soft loam of pine needles under her feet and the fresh, crisp snap of the air here. But she would never ever miss this backpack.
They continued on through the heat of the afternoon taking only one break for water.
“Ryan?”
He lowered the bottle and handed it to her, brows lifted.
“You were a Marine, right?”
He nodded, his expression going blank, but his eyes narrowing.
“Did you ever lose someone?”
Now his lips went bloodless and he stared off at the path before them, but she felt he was seeing something far away.
“I was a unit commander. And yes, I lost men, men who trusted me to keep them alive.”
Men he cared about, clearly. So he understood loss. But instead of building a protective nest and crawling inside as she had, he took on the most dangerous missions possible.
“Drink,” he ordered.
She did and then he retrieved the bottle, capping it with unnecessary force.
Why had he acted so differently? She puzzled over this as they set off again. Eventually she reached a logical conclusion. Haley grieved her sister, but did not feel responsible for her death because she wasn’t a unit commander whose men trusted him to keep them alive. Ryan was experiencing survivor’s guilt. She’d lay money on it, if she gambled. Which she didn’t. Too risky.
The sounds of female voices brought Ryan to a stop. He flashed his dark eyes at her and reminded her that her name was Anna Parker. A moment later, a tall blonde woman appeared on the trail but her companion was not yet in view. The woman slowed at seeing Haley and Ryan. The second woman stepped out to peer at them. She had light brown skin and hair ironed straight. The rosy glow on her cheeks and the clear skin radiated good health. The perfectly applied liner made her eyes look golden and dramatic.
Both carried similar packs but unlike her they seemed to not notice the weight and moved gracefully along instead of using the rocking tread of a beast of burden that Haley had adopted sometime in the middle of the day. They called a greeting and then drew up before them.
“Heading for the summit?” the blonde one with the blue pack and the socks asked.
“Yes. That’s the plan. We’re going to climb to the summit and then camp at one of the lean-tos on the way back down. Then finish the climb tomorrow back at Crane Pond.”
“We’ve been there and are just heading back,” said the second woman.
Haley didn’t like the looks of either of them. It wasn’t just that they were cheerful or slim or athletic, though that was enough. It was something else, a niggling unease that she could not explain. She turned to Ryan.
“I’ll just go use the little girls’ room.” She did not wait for his permission or response but spun away, leaving her pack and the three chatting about their hike. She moved behind the boulder that they had chosen to rest against. Moved deeper into the woods, making her way behind the two women. She watched them from her hiding place. And then she realized what it was that troubled her.
She and Ryan had spent only one night out in the woods and her hair was a mess. She wore no makeup. Her clothes were wrinkled and damp and she was quite certain she had circles under her eyes. But those two women looked like they had just stepped onto a movie set, one where they were pretending to be hikers. She studied their hair. She was willing to bet that both of them had a natural wave but their hair was ironed straight as dried linguine. Now, where would a woman plug in a straightening iron out here?
Haley selected a stout branch from the forest floor and crept forward. Perhaps she was wrong. But the insistent unease had grown, making her stomach clench as she made her way gingerly from one large tree trunk to the next.
* * *
RYAN WANTED TO be on their way, but Haley had not yet reappeared.
“Let me show you,” said the brunette. She easily swung her pack down before her and reached for the side pocket, presumably to show him a map and the route that they had taken. But what he saw in her hand was no map. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of a pistol. She did not have time to draw it becau
se he had her wrist captured and behind her back, dragging her before him as he relieved her of the gun.
When he lifted his gaze to her partner, it was to find she had her pistol out, arms extended, pointed at his chest in a stance that told him without words that she knew what she was doing.
“Where is it?” she asked.
“I’ll kill her,” Ryan warned, moving the pistol to her friend’s temple.
The woman shrugged as if that threat was of no consequence. “Where is the flash drive, Mr. Carr?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She arched a sculpted brow and her crimson lips curled. “You told my colleagues that you knew where it was. But you left the job unfinished.”
“My contact never delivered it,” said Ryan.
“No?” She shook her head sadly. “We are quite sure Mr. Tanaka does not have it. So either you have it or you know where it is.”
Ryan’s stomach tightened. They knew Takashi’s last name. His brows lowered as his frown deepened. “What did you do to him?”
“You should be worried about what I will do to you. Call your friend.”
Ryan caught movement behind the blonde in his peripheral vision but did not redirect his gaze, maintaining eye contact. The woman in his arms struggled and tried to speak, tried to warn her friend. But Ryan tightened his hold on her throat and she went limp, choked out.
Behind the blonde, Haley wound back like a heavy hitter in a baseball lineup and swung her modified bat. The clunk of wood striking bone was sickening. The blonde’s arms dropped slack to her sides as she sank to her knees and then fell forward to the ground. Ryan kicked the legs out from the woman he had captured. Then pressed a knee to the center of her back.
Haley stepped into the clearing, dropping the sturdy branch as she inched forward.
“Is she dead? Did I kill her?”
“Get her gun.”
Haley stooped to check the woman’s heart rate using two fingers at the base of her throat. Ryan wondered where she learned to do that.
“Still breathing,” she said and sank back onto her heels, to blow away a breath as she squatted beside his attacker. “I thought I killed her,” she whispered to herself.
“Gun,” he said again. He glanced about listening for any approaching hikers.
This time Haley did as he asked, lifting the gun by the barrel and bringing it to him. He stuck it into the waistband of his cargo pants and then asked her to check inside the woman’s pack.
“What am I looking for?” she asked.
He wasn’t sure but he knew he would know when he saw it. From the side pockets came maps, a compass, a whistle knife and an extremely expensive tactical walkie-talkie.
“Keep looking,” he said. The woman lying facedown under his knee roused and began to struggle. “Move again and you can join your friend.”
The woman turned her head to see her blonde partner lying prone and limp, her face turned away. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was dead. She would be if Haley wasn’t here. But killing was new to her and he was glad, even if it meant keeping these two killers alive.
The woman stilled as Haley searched through the pack.
“It’s nearly empty. Just a baggie of food and something that looks like some kind of packing foam.” She met his gaze. “I knew they hadn’t been camping.”
He cocked his head and wondered how she’d been able to perceive what he had not. At the bottom of the pack she found a kit. Inside was duct tape, rope, wire, zip ties and a black hood.
“What in the world?” she asked.
“Abduction kit. Bring it.”
She did and he used the zip ties to secure the woman’s wrists and ankles. Then he did the same to the unconscious woman. Finally, he pressed strips of tape across their mouths and dragged them both out of sight behind the boulder.
“You can’t leave them here,” Haley said.
“I am leaving them. I should kill them first.”
“No,” she said.
“That’s the response I expected. You do know they were planning to kill you.” He held up the single hood.
Haley swallowed, said nothing, but looked at the female agents.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “That one will be free before we make a quarter mile. But without weapons and her communication device, she’ll need to return to base for new instructions.”
Ryan searched the second woman’s pack and came up with a similar radio, satellite phone and two mobile phones, all of which he would leave behind. He wasn’t letting them track him with their equipment. But he wasn’t letting them use them, either. He gathered the devices and methodically crushed each piece of electronics in between a rock and his boot heel.
Haley watched. “You know, you can keep the data from those phones and, without a power source, they can’t track us.”
He paused and glanced her way, boot raised. “Okay, do it.”
Haley began collecting components from the shattered devices.
“Let me disable the rest,” she said.
He stepped back. “Quickly. We need to get out of here.”
He took a moment to rearrange their gear while Haley worked, offering her the hatchet. Then he left behind the cooking gear, two fuel cylinders, blankets, the tent, shovel and some of the food. He took the weapons, radios, water bottle filter system and the kit the women had packed. Then he shouldered the single pack.
“They were going to take me and call for backup. That means they’re not alone. They have a recovery team nearby. Possibly a helicopter. That is the logical way to transport me out of this area. We have to make time. You ready?”
Haley gathered up the CPUs from the devices and he stowed them in a pocket of his cargo pants. Then she offered the hatchet.
“Leave it.”
Ryan extended his hand and Haley took it. He set a brisk pace. How did she know about Takashi? Was that a bluff or had they captured and killed him? If his contact was dead, had he died before or after making the drop? He just didn’t know. Possibly he was taking Haley into danger for no reason. He might very well reach the drop site and find nothing but more trouble.
* * *
EVEN WITHOUT A PACK, Haley was breathing hard as they climbed up the trail for Pharaoh Mountain. She read the sign and saw that they would ascend only 1,457 feet from the lake trail, but she never expected to do it at a near jog.
Ryan stopped twice. The first time was to refill their water containers and drink heavily through the blue plastic filtering straw designed to protect them from protozoa. Trotting along was bad enough. She could only imagine the added misery of digestive problems. His second stop was on top of the mountain.
“Those are the high peaks, the mountains with the highest elevation.”
She had folded at the waist to suck much-needed oxygen into her lungs but straightened just enough to admire the blue vista. The view was magnificent. “You mean this isn’t even a tall mountain?” she wheezed.
He gave a laugh.
“Uh-oh,” he said, lifting the field glasses he had taken from the brunette’s pack.
Haley didn’t like the sound of that and straightened.
“We need to get off this rock and back under cover,” he said, jogging away before she had a chance to ask why.
She glanced in the direction he had been looking, seeing nothing but a black speck. But then she heard it, the sound of a motor. Haley pinched her aching side and plunged after him.
“What is that?” she called.
“Helicopter. Our two hikers haven’t checked in. That’s probably their ride.”
“We can’t outrun a helicopter.” Well, she couldn’t, at least.
“Don’t have to outrun it. Just have to get under the tree canopy where they can’t spot us and hope they don’t have infrared.”
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She was suddenly very glad that his backpack was a forest green rather than the bright blue and red carried by their attackers.
Ryan reached the tree line and stopped.
He glanced at her. “How did you know they were covert operatives?”
“I didn’t. But I knew they weren’t campers.”
He cocked his head to the side. “They had all the right gear.”
“I carried my pack for less than half a day and I was sweating so hard my shirt was sticking to my skin. My hairs were sticking to my face and if I was wearing any makeup it would be running down my cheeks in rivers. Meanwhile, they had time to apply their makeup, perfectly style their hair and shave their legs. Plus neither of them were sweating. They stood as if their packs weighed nothing at all, which was nearly the case.”
“Huh. I’m paid to notice those sort of differences but I didn’t see any of that.”
“Perhaps that’s why they sent two stunning women after you. I think I can guess what you did notice.”
He had the good manners to flush at that. His embarrassment made him look even more charming. Haley gritted her teeth against the lure of this man. He was bad for her and might very well get her killed. The least she could do was not be yet another female to fall under his spell.
She pointed at the tree where the yellow marker was fixed above a blue one.
“Is that the trail we need?” she asked.
He glanced to the marker. “Yes. This one leads toward Graphite. From there we can take the road to Lake George.”
“That’s where you were supposed to get that package?”
“Yes, but if what they said is true, they found my contact already.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. The disgruntlement was replaced with worry.
“It means they don’t have the flash drive yet. That might be because Takashi escaped the initial ambush or because they are lying. Whether he made the drop is an open question. If he was captured after making the drop, he might have convinced them that I’m the one carrying it.”
