AWOL with the Operative (7 page)

Just as well, Eve decided. It had no meaning this morning. Or so she made every effort to tell herself. After all, this Sam was not the real one. Sooner or later, he would regain his memory. The true Sam would emerge again, the one she wanted no part of, whatever her physical attraction to him.

Suddenly, Eve heard it. The throb of beating blades somewhere above the forest. She halted, dragging at Sam’s arm with a tense “Hear it?”

He nodded soberly. “I hear it.”

“It’s a helicopter, isn’t it?”

“Sounds like it.”

“It could be a rescue helicopter hunting for us.”

“Or that enemy chopper you told me about.”

Eve had already feared that possibility, too. “What should we do?”

“Nothing. Even if it is a friendly craft, there’s no way we can signal it from down here under all these trees. And no way they can spot us either in all this heavy growth.”

Nor did Eve have any desire for such a contact. Not if that helicopter
was
connected with Victor DeMarco.

The sound faded to a hum in the distance, and finally the sky was silent once more. Eve kept listening for it as she and Sam went on, but it never approached them again. The hours passed, the sun moving over to the west. And all the while, as they tramped onward through the snow, the granola bar in Eve’s purse spoke to her.

When she could no longer ignore its call, or the ache in her legs, she demanded a break. “I’m hungry, and I’m tired.”

“You’re right. It’s time for a rest stop.”

They found a thick log around a bend in the trail. Sam brushed the snow off the top of it, and they perched on it side by side. Eve divided the bar and gave him his half of it.

She ate her share with relish, refusing to let herself remember this was the last of their food. Or, for that matter, to worry about slowly starving out here in all this frozen vastness.

Eve resolutely turned to Sam and broached another subject. “Any luck yet regaining your memory?”

The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed the last of his ration. She found something erotic about that sight. No man had ever had this kind of effect on her before. It was exciting, but foolish. Wasn’t it? Yes, of course, it was.

He shook his head. “Just those pieces that still have no meaning for me. When I do have something worthwhile, I’ll let you know.”

She understood him. He was telling her he would prefer she stop questioning him about it. Probably the state of the lump on the side of his head, as well. No need anyway to ask about that. She could see that the swelling had lessened considerably.

“You ready to go on?”

She hesitated.

“What?”

“Sam, what if this excuse for a road doesn’t lead us anywhere? Anywhere useful, that is.”

“Has to. Whoever built that cabin and farmed the clearing would have needed a way in and out to someplace where they could buy the supplies they couldn’t grow. Only makes sense.” He gazed at her when she didn’t answer him. “You’re still skeptical about it, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your eyebrows told me.”

“My what?”

“Eyebrows.” He smiled at her, the amber lights in his brown eyes glinting with humor. “No matter how controlled the expression on your face might be, your eyebrows give you away. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

“No. Just what are my eyebrows saying now?”

“One of them is lowered, the other is raised. You aren’t sure what to believe. Adds up to uncertainty. See?”

She had to give him points for being exceptionally observant. FBI training maybe. From now on, she’d have to try not to let her eyebrows betray her. There were some feelings she’d rather he didn’t know about.

“So, we go on?” he said.

She’d much rather stay right here and lean her head on his broad shoulder.

Not a good desire, Eve. And watch those eyebrows.

She got to her feet. “We go on.”

The afternoon lengthened as they trekked onward. She was tired from this ceaseless tramping, but she refused to complain about it. She tried not to think what would happen when the sun went down. But it was impossible to keep from wondering if they would have to spend their second night out in the open. They might not be lucky enough this time to find another clearing offering a snug refuge.

To her amazement, they did reach another clearing. It was considerably larger than the one that was now miles behind them. And much brighter. Light enough to show them it was not man-made this time, but a natural meadow in the forest. Nowhere in its expanse was there any indication of a possible shelter.

They had no choice but to cross the clearing to the track that meandered on through the endless forest. Sam’s hand held her back at the edge of the woods when they reached that track.

“Let me have your cell phone.”

“Why? It doesn’t display any signal.”

“You haven’t tried it again. We’ve traveled far enough that maybe this time it will.”

Eve dug the cell phone out of her bag and handed it to him.

“Wait here for me.”

“Gladly.” She was more than ready for another rest stop. A large boulder a few feet away beckoned to her. Sweeping away the snow, she sank gratefully onto its flat surface.

Sam took the phone and moved back out into the clearing. She watched his tall figure from her perch as he halted yards away from her, opened the phone, powered it up and squinted at the display. There couldn’t have been any signal. That’s why he held it higher and began to turn around slowly, seeking some kind of signal.

Eve saw the sun, low in the sky now, strike golden sparks off the metal of the upraised phone. It made a peaceful sight. Or did, until mere seconds later the stillness was shattered by the crack of a rifle. To her dismay, the cell phone seemed to come apart in Sam’s raised hand.

Dropping the now-useless instrument, he shouted to her, “Take cover!” Without pause, he sprinted back toward her at top speed, dodging a hail of bullets as he ran. A perfect target, she thought, heart in her throat as she sprang to her feet. “Cover!” he yelled again.

Eve didn’t hesitate this time. She dived behind the boulder, squeezing her knees up to her chest to make herself as small as possible. Her brain was rapidly at work again.

She had seen no sign of the shooter. Or maybe there was more than one of them. Whoever they were, and she was already almost 100 percent certain of their identity, they must have crept up on them and were hidden now in the trees on the far side of the clearing.

To her relief, Sam joined her behind the boulder, dropping flat at her side.

“Were you hit? Please tell me you weren’t hit.”

“I wasn’t hit. But we will be if we don’t get out of here.”

Bidding her to follow him, he led the way, crawling rapidly on his belly into the trees behind them.

“You know who they are, don’t you?” she called to him breathlessly.

“Oh, yeah. The boys from that chopper.”

“They must have finally sighted the wreckage of the plane.”

“More likely the clearing where we spent the night. And if they came in low for a closer look, our tracks in the snow would have been plainly visible. All they had to do was set down there and follow our trail.”

“They’ll come after us, of course.”

“You can bet on it.” Reaching the edge of the lane, Sam climbed to his feet. Eve joined him. “No more talk now. We need to save our breath if we’re going to stand any chance of losing them.”

She fearfully wondered if that was possible when their bootprints would leave another clear trail. And, worse than that, the enemy had the firepower to bring them down.

Grabbing her hand, Sam ran with her swiftly along the trail. With her mounting fatigue, Eve silently questioned how long she could keep up with him. Just how far behind them were their pursuers? Even moving cautiously, it wouldn’t take them long to cross the clearing and find the trail on the other side.

She and Sam couldn’t have gone more than a few hundred yards along the curving trail when he abruptly stopped. She drew up beside him, glad for the opportunity to catch her breath.

“This is no good,” he muttered. “With these tracks we’re leaving, we’re practically inviting them to catch up to us.”

He looked quickly to the left, then the right. They had entered a region where the forest was dominated by tall pines on both sides of the trail. The trees grew so close together that the snow barely penetrated the dense, evergreen boughs high above, and then only laying down scattered patches of crusty white in the forest itself. Most of its floor was thickly carpeted with nothing but dry needles.

Eve understood Sam’s intention. They would leave no tracks in the pine forest. She also understood what he was doing when he began to scuff up the snow from the middle to the edge of the trail on their left where the clean needles began.

She needed no urging to help him. She took the right side. Within seconds, they had created a confusion of bootprints clear across the trail, making it impossible for their pursuers to figure out on which side she and Sam had entered the forest.

“The left side, I think,” he directed her. “Stomp your boots before we go in. We don’t want to shed any traces of snow in there.”

With the towering pines shutting out what sunlight remained,
in there
proved to be as dim and shadowy as dusk. It was also as silent as a church, which was probably why Eve whispered her nervous “Where are they? I don’t hear anything.”

“Wasting time arguing over which direction we took, I hope.”

They plunged onward into the depths of the forest, careful to avoid the rare patches of snow. Eve was determined not to give voice to her weariness as they zigzagged though the endless ranks of the pines. But her strength had already been sapped by a long day of hiking, and the last of it was ebbing fast.

Although she said nothing, her increasingly sluggish steps were a clear indication of her exhaustion. Sam halted them. “You’re ready to collapse.”

“It’s all right. I can go on.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Maybe if we just rest for a bit.”

“Can’t afford to chance it. They could already have picked up our trail, and if they catch up to us…” She could see he was thinking of a solution. Seconds later, looking first left, then right, he was apparently seized by an idea. “Over there,” he said, jerking his thumb toward a shallow hollow a few yards to the right of them.

Waiting for him to explain, Eve followed him into the hollow. He hunkered down, digging his hands into the pine needles.

“The needles are much deeper here,” he said. “They must have been collecting in this low spot for decades, practically filling it up.” Getting down on his hands and knees, he began to swiftly claw away the layers of needles, raking them back like a dog attacking an animal’s burrow. “Help me,” he said.

She joined him on the other side of the depression he was creating, falling to her knees to share in the labor. “What on earth are we doing?” she asked, piling needles behind her.

“We’re making a bed for you.”

“We are doing
what?
”

“Eve, you’re in no state to go on. I’ve got to cover you with needles and leave you hidden here while I lead them away.”

She panicked at the prospect of his deserting her. “Sam, no! We can both hide under the needles! Anyway, maybe they won’t come.”

“They’ll come,” he said with a grim certainty. “And when they do, I want them to keep on coming.”

“After
you
. They’ll shoot you if they catch up to you. Sam, don’t sacrifice yourself like this.”

“Something tells me I like life too much for that. They won’t catch me. No more arguing. This is deep enough and long enough now to fit you. Dry enough, too. In you go.”

Much as she didn’t like his plan, Eve was too spent to make any further objections. She felt like a corpse in a coffin once she was stretched out flat on her back in the depression. Sam began to rapidly mound the needles they had removed over her.

“I’m leaving a little gap up here so you can breathe without trouble. Whatever you hear, don’t move. Not a muscle,” he cautioned.

That would be a challenge, she knew. She heard him getting to his feet.

“I’ll come back for you, angel. Count on it.”

And then he was gone.

If anyone ever asked her what it was like to be buried alive, Eve could tell them. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all. She understood perfectly now the experience of claustrophobia. And a sense of abandonment.

There were two advantages to her situation. She could freely breathe fresh air, and she was warm. Not so odd really, considering the sun had shone down strongly on the area all day, leaving the still air mild in temperature, even late in the day like this. Besides, the blanket of pine needles covering her made an excellent insulation.

She was comfortable enough. Physically. Emotionally, she was something else. Through the long, lonely moments, she alternated between a fear that the enemy would arrive and a hope that they would come and relieve this awful suspense she was suffering.