Defensive Action

by Jenna Kernan

  Was she injured?

  The driver of the Jet Ski reached out his empty hand.

  “Give it to me,” he ordered.

  “What?” Ryan gripped the paddle.

  “We saw you collect the envelope.”

  Had they? Why didn’t they move in then? And then Ryan remembered the police and DEA circling the neighborhood. They’d tried and failed to find him. Until now.

  He glanced at Haley, seeing her strong legs rhythmically churning the water.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Give me the envelope,” he repeated.

  Ryan shook his head. “Listen, buddy—”

  The man leading the inquiry turned to his partner.

  “Kill the girl.”

  Ryan felt a cold flash of terror. He shivered with the panic that rocked him. He lifted a hand from the paddle.

  “All right.” Then he reached behind himself and unzipped the pocket in his bag. The shooter kept his pistol aimed at him now, off Haley, at least for the moment.

  He watched Haley leave her hiding spot and swim away, toward the men who confronted them. She had discarded the yellow flotation vest and now glided like a seal under the first Jet Ski and disappeared from his line of sight. What was she doing?

  Ryan retrieved the envelope and held it out. The man extended his hand and Ryan grabbed his wrist, planted his feet and pulled. They both went into the water, but his attacker fell into the kayak on his descent. By the time Ryan hit the water he had already shrugged out of his vest.

  His combatant came up and shouted to his partner. “Kill him.”

  Ryan turned toward the shooter and swept both arms upward, which forced his body down. The last thing he saw werewas the silver streaming tails of the bullets penetrating the clear lake water above his head and beyond. At the surface, Haley stepped onto the back of the shooter’s Jet Ski and launched herself at his extended arm.

  Ryan forgot the envelope, directive and mission as he swam toward Haley. He emerged beside her as she hit the water. Ryan grabbed the shooter’s waistband from the opposite side of the sled, planted his feet on the side of the Jet Ski and pushed off. They both went into the lake. Ryan jabbed him in the throat and both his opponent’s hands came up as his airway went into spasms. He’d dropped the gun.

  Ryan surfaced and glanced about. Haley was beside him, gripping the Jet Ski. A motor roared and the second man jetted away, sending a rooster tail spray over them all. Beside them the shooter surfaced, choking and coughing on lake water. Gasping as he tried and failed to breathe.

  “Go get the drive!” Haley shouted.

  “What about you?”

  “Go, Ryan, or he’ll get there first. He has the envelope!”

  Ryan climbed onto the Jet Ski from the back and offered his hand. Haley scrambled up behind him. A moment later they were flying over the water. Ryan hunched and Haley clung. Behind them bobbed two abandoned kayaks, paddles, a vest and one would-be assassin.

  They almost made it, too. Then Ryan saw the sheriff’s boat drawing parallel to them. The young officer motioned for him to stop.

  “Keep going,” Haley said. “I’ll slow them down.”

  “What?”

  Before he could ask what she intended, Haley straightened and fell backward off the Jet Ski. The sheriff cut his engine. Ryan glanced back to see Haley flailing in the water, making a very good impression of a distressed swimmer.

  They’d take her in, he was certain. How long until the men pursuing them came after Haley?

  The Sheriff’s boat drew alongside Haley, and Ryan sped away toward the agent carrying Takashi’s message. These were new players. He was certain that he had not seen either of them before and he was unsure if they were with the agents impersonating DEA or perhaps ones from the Chinese government where Takashi had stolen the information.

  Why did he feel this tugging urge to turn around and go get Haley? She’d chosen to help him escape. Going back would only mean his capture. And he knew that his mission was bigger than either of them. But that knowledge didn’t change the recognition that something had changed inside him. He wasn’t ready to give up everything for the mission anymore. He still believed in the importance of his duty, but his responsibility to see her safe now seemed more urgent. Ryan sped on as inside himself an internal battle raged.

  * * *

  HALEY WATCHED IN shock as Ryan sped away from her.

  She prayed that he reached the target before his competition. She did not know what was on that flash drive. Only that it was classified, stolen intelligence and that men were ready to kill and die to obtain it.

  She’d given him his shot, taken a risk. She’d provided him the location of the flash drive and created the diversion that allowed him to escape. One that might land her in jail. What had she been thinking? Had she lost her mind? The only thing that might kill her mother quicker than losing another child was seeing her only surviving child go to prison.

  But she knew she would do it again, if given the chance. She was no longer that fearful young woman who had set off for adventure camp. Her time with Ryan had forged her into something tough and selfless and, yes, brave.

  The female officer stared down at her from the controls of the boat.

  “You are in a lot of trouble, ma’am.”

  Haley gave a rueful smile. “Don’t I know it.”

  “Grab the towline,” she said, tossing Haley a rope. Once she had a hold the officer hauled her in and then picked up her radio, reporting two fugitives.

  Haley was assisted on board the police vessel and handcuffed before being deposited on the rear bench of the craft. A second vessel arrived with a blue flashing light affixed to the bow and Marine Police emblazoned on the side. It sped past them toward the spot they had left their stranded attacker.

  Haley was taken to the marina and efficiently arrested, read her rights and escorted off the dock. Her first arrest and every tourist with a camera phone was there to witness her humiliation.

  Along the road were vehicles from the New York State Police office, the sheriff’s office, local village law enforcement professionals and one from Fish and Wildlife.

  Haley burned with embarrassment as she was transferred to the back of a police unit. She was shivering and soaking wet, leaving a puddle on the floor mats behind the wire mesh that separated the front from the back of the patrol car.

  Once at the station she endured the intake procedure including fingerprinting, breathalyzer and a swab for gunpowder residue. Then she was placed in a cell and the door firmly locked.

  She had stopped shivering and her tank top was nearly dry before anyone appeared to check on her.

  “I want to speak to a lawyer,” she said.

  “I’ll bet you do. But right now we are transferring your custody to federal authorities. Drug enforcement agents are en route. They seem very anxious to speak to you.”

  “I need to speak to your chief of police.”

  “No lawyer?”

  “No.”

  “All right then.” The young officer departed and returned with a woman in her middle years, plain clothes in business casual, her hair dyed an unnatural shade of red that clashed with her lipstick.

  “You wanted to speak to me?”

  Haley didn’t know what she expected a small-town police chief to look like, but this wasn’t it.

  “Chief?”

  She nodded. “You want to make a statement?”

  “No, I want to tell you that the agents who are coming for me are not with the Drug Enforcement Agency. They’re imposters.”

  “And you know this...how?”

  “They’re foreign agents posing as US officials. They tried to kill us.”

  Haley could tell how well her story was going by the chief’s expression, which went from startled to som
ething that might have been pity.

  “The guy from the lake. He’s one of them.”

  The chief’s brow quirked.

  “Where is he?” asked Haley.

  “The one man we pulled out of the water has a bruised trachea. I released him to seek medical attention, but before, he presented me with his ID. He’s a Kingston police officer.”

  “He’s not. He tried to shoot me.”

  “Why would men, posing as law enforcement, be after you?”

  “Not me, but the man who I was with.”

  “You mean the armed fugitive who left you behind after he stole the officer’s Jet Ski?”

  Haley bit her lip. “Can you just keep me here and not let them take me?”

  The chief pressed her lips together as she shook her head. “Much as I’d like to toss you into one of our very fine jail cells, it seems I’m outranked. Even if I wanted to keep you, and I do, but not for your benefit, I have no choice.”

  “Can you at least confirm they are who they say they are?” asked Haley.

  The woman’s brow wrinkled. “First, that’s just protocol and second, are you really telling me how to do my job right now?” She turned to the officer beside her. “We’re done. Get her some dry clothing, courtesy of the village of Lake George.”

  * * *

  RYAN FELT AN ache in his stomach as he left Haley behind. She deserved better. Should he waste the advantage she had given him or heed her wishes?

  He didn’t usually have such conflicting emotions. The mission came first, above everything up to and including his life. Or it had. Now he tried to think of a way to make this right.

  Once he completed his delivery and spoke to his supervisors, Haley would be freed from any charges the locals might want to slap on her. If he could complete it and recover what Takashi had hidden before his competition figured out the clue.

  He thought of the agent reading the note, if it were even possible after it was soaked in lake water. Assuming his competition couldn’t decipher it or was unable to gain any useful information, what would be his next move?

  It should be to go after the thumb drive, but if he didn’t know where to look...

  Haley!

  He had to go back for her, right now, before the flash drive. Before anything else.

  It wasn’t just about the big picture. It was about the little picture, the one that involved keeping Haley alive and seeing if she could forgive him for doing what she had asked instead of what was best for her.

  If he didn’t get there first, they’d pick her up and...

  Ryan thought of his short time in their captivity as he ran the Jet Ski up onto the lakeshore and took off running.

  He had to get to her before they did.

  * * *

  HALEY SAT IN a chair across from the chief in an interrogation room. Her hands were secured before her in handcuffs and she held them still to keep the metal from rattling when she spoke. The chief sat before an open laptop across from her, as she went over Haley’s statement again. The chief was interested in specifics, details that could verify some of what she claimed or catch her in a lie.

  There was a knock and a young officer stepped through the door.

  “DEA officers are here with a van to take custody.”

  Haley’s eyes widened. “You can’t let me go with them.”

  The chief ignored her, still looking at her computer. “That was fast.”

  Haley stood up and backed away from the table. The chief spoke to her officer. “Bring them on back.”

  The young man stepped out and the door closed.

  “It’s not them. You can’t release me.” Haley was babbling. She knew it but couldn’t seem to stop.

  The chief lifted a hand.

  The young officer appeared again, holding the door as two men in plain clothes stepped in. She recognized the beefy one immediately. He was the one from the cabin and also the accident.

  “Hornet,” she said.

  He did not even glance her way.

  She lifted her joined hands, pointing a finger at the large muscular man whose shoulders stretched the suit fabric.

  “That’s him. He’s the one from the crash. They called him Hornet and that one is Needle,” she said, pointing at the shorter, balding man with light brown skin. “I hit him with my thermos. He has a scar or scab up here.” She placed two fingers on the crown of her own head.

  Needle ignored her and spoke to the chief. “You have the release papers?”

  The chief nodded and nudged a clipboard on the table in his direction.

  “You guys work out of Albany?”

  He nodded and scrawled his signature on the form.

  “I have a cousin down there. I think I’ll just give him a call.”

  She extracted her phone from a side pocket of her blazer and glanced away to enter the pass code. That was why she didn’t see Hornet draw his knife. He stepped forward and punched multiple holes in the chief’s torso.

  Haley screamed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blood welled up on the chief’s clean white blouse as she dropped to her knees, the phone sliding from her hand and clattering to the floor.

  Hornet seized Haley’s arm and dragged her out. The young officer stepped into the hall before them.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “Just fine,” said Hornet.

  “He just killed your chief,” Haley shouted. “Go look!”

  The young man’s hand went to his pistol but he just stood there as she was dragged past him followed by Needle.

  “Quiet,” said Hornet, propelling her out of the secure area, into the hall that led to the street and to the waiting black SUV. Needle waited by the exit, preparing, she supposed, to cover their escape.

  By now they should have discovered the chief. Would she survive so many puncture wounds? Haley’s entire body felt cold and her legs had turned to wood.

  Hornet jostled her to his side as he opened the rear sliding door of the black GMC Terrain. She glanced into the SUV’s interior and looked down the barrel of a gun. Her gaze flashed to the gunman, turned sideways in the driver’s seat, and recognized Ryan.

  Her captor noticed just a fraction of a second later. It was enough time for her to step away from Hornet and him to try, unsuccessfully, to draw his pistol.

  Ryan fired and Hornet fell backward to his seat as his shot went through the metal step beyond the sliding door.

  “Get in!” Ryan shouted. “He’s wearing body armor.”

  Haley scrambled through the opening.

  “There are two of them,” she said as Hornet grasped her ankle. She glanced to Ryan, who held his gun aimed toward their attackers, clearly unable to get in another shot. Haley spun on her seat and kicked with her free foot. Hornet released her and she scrambled into the vehicle, not stopping as she was rocked from side to side when Ryan took off. Needle ran at them from across the wide sidewalk. The sliding door slid half closed and banged open as she dove headfirst over the central console dividing the two front seats.

  “You came back,” she said, her voice breathless.

  “Are you hit?”

  She checked herself, but it was hard to see past the specks of white light flashing before her eyes.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Was she going to faint? She righted herself in the passenger seat and lowered her head to her palms. The handcuffs slid farther down her wrists.

  “They got escaping armed gunman on that adventure list?” he asked.

  She was looking back at the way they had come, breathless and gasping.

  “He stabbed the chief. He hit her multiple times. We have to call for help.”

  “She’s in a police station. They are in the same building as paramedics and fire rescue. If she’s alive, she’s
got the best care anyone could hope for.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m going after the flash drive,” said Ryan.

  “You don’t have it yet?” She blinked at him in astonishment. Did she understand that he’d come after her first?

  “Go!” she said and thumped the dashboard for good measure.

  * * *

  RYAN SET OFF toward the highway where the village dropped away and a water park, amusement park, ice-cream stand and two eighteen-hole miniature golf courses awaited.

  They had to hurry. Collect his package, contact the Company and set up an extraction operation. After that, he needed to get them both into safe hands.

  Since his last attempt to contact his handler had coincided with his cover being blown, he was suspicious of the lines of communication. He decided to use the safe number, following a well-ordered protocol.

  They reached the miniature golf spot, leaving the Terrain parked in the lot between a minivan and a hybrid wagon with a rubber raft tied to the roof. He and Haley collected two putters from the stand and waited by the exit for a family who had completed their round and were still arguing over a hole as Ryan and Haley slipped past them. Together they sauntered in the opposite direction around the holes as if in no hurry at all. Haley was a natural, if you overlooked the trembling hands. She blended in perfectly among the tourists here.

  They moved past the families at each hole until they reached the one with the enormous yellow sombrero. Then Haley pretended to be lining up her shot. Even without a ball she was convincing. Meanwhile, he circled the sombrero.

  “Honey?” she called. “Is there a hole or anything I have to hit through?”

  He inspected the exterior, looking for the possible hiding spot. He noticed an electrical box near the bottom at the back. Once the group of three moved on, he stepped onto the wrinkled, worn green carpet and behind the cement representation of the iconic hat. He flipped open the cover of the box and found nothing.