“Just shut up. If you’re going along for the ride, Colonel, try to keep your mouth shut. This is not Afghanistan and we’re not dealing with the Taliban, okay? This isn’t some mission that I’m screwing up. This is my story, my job...I know what I’m doing.” She drove from the parking ramp, heart slamming so hard against her ribcage she wondered if he could hear it.
“It is exactly like Afghanistan. Just like it. You’re rushing in where you don’t belong.”
“Shut-up.”
“What’s the code word?”
“What?”
“The code word you were supposed to give Wulf. What is it? Might be helpful if I know what it is, too, don’t you think?”
“No, because you’re not going anywhere near the construction site. I’m parking down the road, far from the security cameras. I know where they are from the other day.” She braved a glance at him, unable to believe they’d been making love an hour ago. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Yet here I am.” He looked out the window, tension emanating from him like a heat wave.
“The code word is Angel.” She shook her head to rid herself of the image of the woman’s brutalized body.
“Angel. Got it.”
“You won’t need it.”
“Of course not. I’ll be hanging out in the jeep like a dutiful lookout.”
“Lookout?” She glanced at him, catching his grin.
“I brought snacks, too.” He nodded over his shoulder to where he’d shoved his wheelchair and a bag of chips. “And these,” he held up the walkie-talkies she used when skiing. “You can put one in your pocket. I’ll make it vibrate if I see someone coming along the road.”
She hated that he made sense. With an accepting sigh, she drove onto the freeway leading toward the mountains. “Sneaking into my car is unacceptable. I’m going to be very pissed off at you if something happens to you, you know that right? I’ll never forgive you if you die on me.”
“Good to know.” He squeezed her thigh. “I don’t plan on dying today, babe. It felt good sneaking around again, though.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop the smile. This was definitely not a situation to smile about. No way. She curved her fingers over his for a minute without looking at him. Maybe it would be okay. They’d been in worse situations than this...and how many people on earth could say that?
For once in her life, she trusted the Feds to do their job and refused to look in the rearview. In her mind, she remembered the layout of the construction site. The empty vehicles and buildings. The limo that had come from there. What hadn’t they seen that day? What if they’d been close to finding the truth days ago, before Becky had gotten hurt?
Putting the jeep into 4-wheel drive, she took it off-road and parked in the trees. Michael would have a clear view of approaching vehicles, but hopefully wouldn’t be seen himself. She sighed and allowed herself a moment to simply stare at the towering pine trees swaying against the steady snowfall.
“I’ll leave tracks,” she said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Stay off the road, walk in the trees. You’ll be good.” He leaned his elbow against the side of the door and stared at the forest surrounding them. “Seems pretty remote up here.”
“It is, especially this time of year.” She tied the yellow scarf around her neck, before reaching for her bag. She couldn’t look him in the eye, too much emotion threatened to bubble over.
“I don’t see any sign of the feds.”
“They’re not supposed to be seen. We have a plan, don’t worry. It’s all worked out.” She suddenly felt like this was good-bye, that she wouldn’t be coming back.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She’d never felt like this before, not even on that last day in a war zone. She swallowed the anxiety. No time for fear. Not now.
“You don’t have to do this.” He caressed the side of her face with his knuckles. “Let the feds go in alone...”
“They don’t have probable cause or a search warrant.” She opened his eyes and found his face only an inch from hers. “It’s gotta be me.”
He frowned before closing the space between them and kissing her with such tenderness that it broke her heart in two.
She shoved him away, put the walkie-talkie in her bag and opened the door without saying another word. She couldn’t afford emotion right now. She needed focus.
McGee stepped out from behind a tree, gun trained on her.
“I planted a GPS on your Jeep days ago, Shane.” He shrugged his shoulders before letting his gaze slip to Michael.
With a twisted grin, he shot her without breaking eye contact with his former commanding officer.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” he asked McGee as he landed face down against a dirt floor.
“She watched you die once, figured the least I could do for her was to let you do the same. Payback of sorts.” McGee and two other men stood in the room, one of whom had tossed Hope’s lifeless body into the dirt next to him. Another man dumped out her bag, looking for a flash drive.
“Do you really think she’d carry that information with her?” he asked the guy after working himself into a half sitting, half leaning position against the metal wall. His hands had been zip tied behind him. “What happened to you, McGee? How’d you get involved in all of this? Why are you doing this to Hope and me?”
“It’s not about you.” McGee looked away from his gaze and kicked at the overturned messenger bag. “I had no idea she’d come back to Denver and pick up this story. If she hadn’t, none of this would be happening. Hell, why did she leave the network anyway? For you? And why did she need to come to Denver? She should have stayed put.”
“So you’re blaming her for you shooting her? Am I hearing you right?” He kept his gaze locked on McGee’s face.
“Shut-up. Neither of you were supposed to be involved in this, Colonel, but when my boss asked me to dig up her weaknesses...” Again McGee averted his eyes toward Hope’s unmoving back. “So much for loyalty. Whatever happened to death before dishonor, McGee?”
“Like you, I’m not a Marine anymore. It’s hard getting a job with my skill set.”
“So human trafficking suits your skill set?” He spit dirt from his lips.
“I’m just the muscle.”
“Yeah, right. No matter how you look at it, you sold out the two best friends you’ve ever had. All kinds of hell is about to reign down on you. Guarding me...you suggested that to her, didn’t you? Would you have killed me if you’d been given the order?” Adrenaline pumped through his blood. Heartbeat echoed in his ears. Focus like he’d had in combat zeroed in on his former Captain. His hands curled around the butt of the gun he’d stuffed in the waistband of his jeans, hidden beneath the sweatshirt.
“Yes.” McGee nodded, gaze locking onto his. “You’re not exactly a shining example of loyalty, Colonel. I’m sure Hope would agree.”
“She uploaded the story to her station, told the feds everything. No matter what you do to us, you’re too late.” He let the loyalty comment go. Now was not the time for guilt or doubt.
One of the men—one who also looked like former military, probably another mercenary without a soul—hauled her up against the wall by her braid and slapped her awake.
Her eyes opened to slits.
“Stop this, McGee. C’mon...are you honestly going to keep this going?” he muttered with a final look at his so-called buddy. “You stood with us at our wedding, fought along side me in the war. Semper Fi, Captain, does that mean anything to you?”
“Shut-up.” McGee shook his head as if trying to tune out his words.
“Who else knows where you are?” The other man growled against Hope’s ear.
“Everyone,” she answered with a grin, her voice sounding like a wheeze. “I have a posse...coming for me.”
“Is she lying?” The man asked McGee who backed toward the door, gun poi
nted directly at Michael’s head.
“Probably. She’s a lone wolf, reckless to a fault,” McGee answered. “We’ll go back to her loft, I’ve got a key and the feds won’t think anything about me showing up there. Let her go. She’ll be dead before anyone knows she’s even missing.”
“Knew...I should have...hit you.” Her breath came at odd spurts as she slid down the wall opposite him, her gaze locked on McGee. “Rot...in hell...Captain Scott...McGee.”
He squinted at her, remembering the wire she wore and wondering if it was still working. She was making sure she named names while she had the chance.
“Let’s go.” McGee motioned for the other men to leave the room before making eye contact with him one last time. Without saying a word, he gave him a mock salute with his gun before backing out of the room.
“I’m not gonna...make it...my Marine,” she said, voice so quiet he could barely hear her.
No one was dying today, not here in a dusty room in the Rocky Mountains, not now that they’d finally made it home. He fought against the spasms beginning in his lower back, regretting not taking those pain pills before he’d left the house, and resenting his condition for the thousandth time. No. No one was dying today.
They’d shown no mercy in hauling him from the jeep and into this building, knowing full well he’d cooperate as long as Hope’s life hung in the balance.
He shifted onto his back and, using his elbows and right leg, inched toward her through the contents of her bag. The room smelled like gasoline, something he hadn’t noticed earlier. He tilted his head back and noticed the other door at the far end of the room. Bars covered the high windows. He heard dogs barking in the distance, probably German Shepherds.
He reached her side and collapsed for a minute, eyes blinking at the metal ceiling.
“Angel,” he heard her saying softly, over and over. She gave the code word on her wire, something McGee had failed to search her for.
“Hope, I’m going to get you out of here.” He fought off the spasm that seized his back.
“You’re gonna be...okay. Wulf will...come.”
He squeezed his eyes closed as another spasm ripped up his spine. Now was not the time for helplessness.
Gritting his teeth together, he glanced to his right over the contents of her bag and noticed the flashlight. He twisted with all of his strength until he held it in his hands behind his back. Unable to see, he unscrewed the top and shook it. Sure enough, a knife fell into his fingertips.
“That’s my girl,” he said with a grin.
“Wulf will...come,” she said again.
Ignoring her, he sliced open the plastic bonds on his wrists before shoving himself to a sitting position. He crawled to her side.
“Okay, babe, let’s see what’s up with you. Look at me.” He framed her face with his hands until she opened her eyes again. “Stay with me. Focus.”
“You moved...across the room.” A familiar taunting light flashed in her eyes. “Faker. Knew...you could...do more.”
“Who knew I needed a life or death situation to push me? Keep that ballsy attitude. We need it right now.”
“Not always?”
“Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass. Keep your eyes on my face, okay? Don’t look down.” He grinned to reassure her as he slowly unzipped her leather jacket.
Her blouse was soaked with blood. He used his fingers to find where the bullet had entered the right side of her chest. Sliding his hand behind her shoulder, he couldn’t feel an exit wound. From the looks of the wound, she had a punctured lung. She needed surgery. Fast.
Still grinning, he met her gaze. “You’re gonna be okay, babe. Just a little blood. You’re gonna be fine.”
He grabbed the yellow scarf from around her neck, shoved it into a ball, pressed it against the wound and zipped up her jacket to hold it in place.
“I’m sorry. You should have...stayed home, shouldn’t be...here.”
“Liar. You’re glad I’m here.” He smiled and slid his thumb across her lips. “Admit it.”
“My Marine...stubborn...ass...sneaking along.”
He reached into his waistband and produced the gun she’d given him at the institute. “I came prepared, I’ll give you that.”
She leaned heavily against his shoulder, her arms sliding over his hips. “I smell...gas.”
So did he. He looked over his shoulder toward the door at the back of the room.
“You’re gonna need to be my left leg, babe. We need to move. Let’s go that way.”
“I’m not doing so well.” When she looked at him, the fire in her eyes had dimmed to a slow burn. “I don’t know...if the wire works.”
He gripped her chin with his fingers and held her gaze. “You’ve always been the optimist. C’mon, Shane. I need you now. We can do this, hear me? Remember how you dragged me from a burning humvee and got me to safety? Don’t give up now.”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his for a minute. Without saying anything, she stumbled to standing before reaching down for him.
He pushed with his right leg, demanding more of himself and those muscles than he had in months, while she pulled him as hard as she could. Wrapping her right arm around his back while his left moved around her shoulders, she grinned up at him once they had their precarious positions stated.
“Deja vu, babe,” he said looking down at her. “We can do this.”
“Sorry...I got you into this,” she said, eyes half-closed, words slurred.
“McGee and Gannon got me into this, not you.” He clenched his teeth together. “C’mon. I know we’re gonna be slow, but we need to move.”
They shuffled toward the door, him leaning on her as much as she leaned against him. Both paused for breath once they reached that back door. He supported himself with a flat hand against the wall while she dropped her head against his chest. Nothing about this situation looked hopeful, but he knew he didn’t need to tell her that.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the locked door, noticed the dragging imprint his lifeless left leg had created through the dirt. They had a long way to go.
* * * *
Every breath felt like it was being torn from her lungs by fishhooks. Coldness sunk into her bones. She felt the blood sticking her blouse to her skin like glue. She looked up at Michael before turning the knob. It wasn’t locked, surprisingly. And that could be bad, very bad.
She opened the door without loosening the hold on Michael, knowing full well that he’d fall without her. A long corridor stretched in front of them with doors leading off in every direction. They were obviously in some type of warehouse, something she hadn’t noticed the other day. They slid along the wall, both needing it for support.
His left leg dragged lifelessly between them. She focused solely on putting one foot in front of the other. Inches at a time. Where she got her strength, she didn’t know. She hoped against hope that her wire worked and that the feds were outside.
Crying from behind one of the closed doors stopped them in motion. This was it. This is where Gannon had kept the girls. She looked up at Michael.
“I hear it, too. Go. Take your knife, it’s in my pocket. Free them. Isn’t that the point of all this?” He grinned and nodded toward the door.
“If I let you go, you’ll fall.”
“Then you’ll pick me up again. Go on.” He held the gun in his right hand as he braced his back against the wall. Slowly, he let her go and slid down the wall.
Dizzy, she weaved toward the door. A deadbolt on the outside of the door proved the girls were locked in, but at least it was an easy obstacle to handle. She slid it free and slung the door wide.
Inside were two mattresses and two women, beaten, half-naked, and dirty. A toilet and sink occupied the middle of the windowless room. They stared at her in shock, obviously not expecting a rescue.
Not that she felt much like a hero in her current condition. She motioned for them to follow, not trusting her Spanish at the momen
t when she could barely construct a sentence. She looked over her shoulder toward the door they had come from before putting a finger over her lips to caution the women into silence. As a unit they moved from one door to the next. More women, some barely in their teens. All abused, filthy and terrified.
The last room is where she discovered Marshall and Devon, still with their hands tied and mouths gagged, but eyes wide open. They squirmed on their mattresses at the sight of her looming in the doorway. She looked back down the hall to where Michael sat against the wall, his gaze focused on the door with his gun in his hand.
She hated the wheezing sound coming out of her mouth and the dizziness wracking her brain.
Unsteady, she cut her friends loose. Gratitude flooded her that they lived. She’d experienced too much loss in too short of at time and wouldn’t have been able to handle anymore.
“I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life,” Marshall said.
She couldn’t respond, it took too much energy to speak.
“What’s wrong with you?” Devon pushed her hands against the side of Hope’s face when she refused to speak. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
“Later,” she managed to say as she stumbled to stand and look at the mass of abused women staring at her from the dark, dusty room. “No time.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely hurt.” Devon glanced toward Michael once they were in the hall. “Well, I see this time we have the backing of a Colonel in the Marine Corps. Good to know.”
Fire. She smelled it even though she couldn’t see any smoke.
“Burning us alive,” Marshall said before locking his gaze on hers. “We need to move. Fast.”
She stumbled her way back to Michael’s side, wrapped her arm around his waist and looked into his face. Fast wasn’t an option.
“What’s with these assholes and burning people up?” Devon muttered as she motioned for the women to line up and not panic.
“Any way out the back?” Michael asked Marshall.
“Not that I saw. Only one way out.”