Colorado Fire - Colorado Heart 2 (17 page)

"Good idea," Grant said.

They found two sticks and tied the flashlights to the branches, pointing them so they looked almost like people were walking round carrying them. Billy stayed behind to man the branches, acting like he was multiple people. They loaded quietly into the truck, Zander sat between him and Duff, his hands shaking as they rumbled down the dirt path. The rest of the guys were piled in the bed of the truck. They were silent on the way back, each of them probably thinking about killing a friend.

Grant knew it would be hard for Zander to stay behind, but he would be a danger to them all. Grant only hoped they could save Marshal before Craig took his life. He had doubts that Marshal was still alive. It would be too much to hope for with Craig already having killed other innocents. He hated this, hated that his friend was in danger. He should have taken Craig out when he had a chance.

*~*~*

Tucker went through the possibilities, weighing each alternative. By the time the truck got back to the main house, he was sure they would be able to save Marshal if he was still alive. They unloaded from the truck and went into the house, staying quiet as they moved.

When they were all in the kitchen and everyone was assembled around the table, Tucker spoke. "First things first, we need someone to scan all of the video surveillance, checking to see if anything was caught."

"I'll do it," Duff said.

"Thanks. Now, Zander, this is where you come in. I need you to take the night vision telescope and a communication device up to the barn. You'll be positioned in the tower. It will be cold and you'll be up there all night most likely, plan accordingly. You are our eyes. I need you to watch for any movement on the mountain. It will be tedious and frustrating, but we need you in this position."

"Mike, you and Billy are the only ones who will have bullets that will kill. I was thinking it would only be you as a sharpshooter, but I want Billy on that task too. Everyone else will be using rubber bullets. I don't want us to kill Marshal by mistake."

"I'm going to go prepare my gun," Mike said.

That left Grant, James, and himself to do the tracking. "We need night vision equipment, tactical headsets, Glocks with rubber bullets, and our flack jackets." He pulled up a plat map of the area, checking out the back side of the mountain. Grant looked over his shoulder and James came around too.

"What do you think?" Grant asked.

"We have to follow the trail that Craig left. The mountain is too big," Tucker said.

"I agree." James stood and headed to the den. "I'll grab the guns, the bullets, and the headsets."

"I'll get the night vision set up and flack jackets," Grant said.

Tucker was left alone to stare at the map. He wondered how the hell he was going to do this. What if they were going at this all wrong? He hated having one of his friends in danger. It was no different than other missions, easy actually, but in reality, this was the worst situation he'd ever been in.

"I'm ready," Grant said.

James came in right behind him and handed Grant and Tucker a Glock. "Rubber bullets are in these clips."

Tucker took the gun and checked the chamber, finding it empty. He grabbed night vision goggles and a headset. Grant and James suited up, grabbing a flack jacket and strapping it on. They'd grabbed enough equipment for Billy and Tucker prepped Billy's rifle, making sure it was set for him. Billy might need to make minor adjustments, but he should be okay.

His heart felt heavy as they moved through the kitchen to the exit. They loaded in a truck and took off. This could all go to hell so quickly they could end up dead. He didn't want any of his men to die tonight, but Craig needed to be stopped.

When they arrived back in the field, they climbed out of the truck and headed to the fence line. The flashlights moved up ahead, looking like they were still searching the area. Billy was a trouper for keeping up the ruse. Of course, with the truck back in the field, Craig would know they were going to come after him. Or at least he should know, but maybe he was already on the other side of the mountain.

Billy pulled on a flack jacket and put on the headset. They did a mic check then moved out, Grant leading the way. They stepped through the barbwire fence, bending and stretching it so they didn't snag their pants on the sharp points.

Following the trail proved difficult. If it were daylight, they'd be able to see better, but in the pitch-black under the trees, footprints on the hillside didn't show up very well. Slowly they progressed but hadn't made it far. Tucker felt like they'd made a huge mistake doing this. Getting Marshal back was priority but he doubted if they'd ever catch up to Craig.

Chapter Fifteen

Craig saw that the guys were headed up and he climbed another ten feet with Marshal before the man woke. At first, Marshal was disoriented. Then, he seemed to focus and his brows bunched.

"You fucker." Marshal's words were slurred.

He tried to stand but Craig pushed him back easily. Furrowed brows and a severe frown were aimed at Craig. He almost laughed, but he held it in. He needed to appear strong in front of Marshal because he really needed the man to comply with his wishes. It wouldn't do for Marshal to think for himself if Craig wanted control.

"Get to your feet," Craig commanded.

"I don't think so." Marshal's shoulders dipped before he lowered to the ground, lying on his back.

"Really. You don't have a choice. I have the gun and your hands are tied." Craig had debated about using the wire to bind Marshal's hands behind his back or in front of him and ultimately chose the front. It was a risky move, but tying in front would allow Marshal to climb on his own, at least somewhat.

"Fuck you," Marshal spat out.

"No thanks. Though, I do find it interesting that you're fucking my leftovers. How is Grant?"

Marshal narrowed his eyes then looked away, his face heating. He figured Marshal was the type of guy to gloat. That he'd finally scored Grant should have Marshal crowing.

Craig had hooked up with Grant to gain more access to sensitive documents. He'd seen that Duff favored the man early on and he wanted what Grant had. It had been easy to manipulate Grant into a relationship. He'd been so pliable. Of course he'd matured, becoming less pathetic as time wore on. Grant had actually grown a set and started telling Craig he couldn’t share some of the stuff he and Duff talked about. But that was the whole reason he'd gotten in to a relationship with the sniveling little brat.

"What, not going to brag about how much better you are in bed than me? You not interested in telling me how good Grant says you are?"

"Craig, you're clueless about relationships and what makes them work. You didn't deserve Grant when you had him, and you sure as hell don't deserve to hear what's up with him now."

"Get to your fucking feet and get moving." Craig had had enough. He no longer wanted to listen to Marshal yammer on. Something was happening below. The flashlights had been moving and he'd thought the men were still far away, but it seemed like they were closer. He looked over the small ledge they'd perched on, searching for movement. Being on the mountain sucked.

Craig pulled Marshal to his feet, steadying him as he swayed. He shouldn't have knocked the guy out, but he'd been surprised. Now he almost regretted taking Marshal hostage. It had been a spur of the moment thing, forcing him to improvise.

*~*~*

Marshal's legs wobbled and he almost fell to the ground. His head throbbed and his stomach churned. He had no idea if the guys were looking for him or if they just thought he was out riding the range, trying to get some privacy. He wondered what had happened to Dusty. He hoped Craig hadn't hurt him. The horse was good, older and a bit slow at times, but he was sweet.

Craig's hand on his arm repulsed him but also steadied him. As he climbed, he tried to work his hands free but the wires around his wrists were too tight. The circulation was being cut off. He'd need to figure a way out of this or risk losing sensitivity in his hands.

They walked for about ten minutes before Marshal lost his footing and came down hard on his right shoulder. The air whooshed out of his lungs and he groaned as he rolled to his back.

"Get up."

"Give me a minute. The wire is too tight. I can't feel my fingers."

"Get the fuck up and move."

"I can't," Marshal roared. He was getting sick of being pushed around but Craig did have the upper hand. Marshal just needed to stay alive long enough to find the one thing he could use against Craig. Then he'd have a clue how to get out of this mess.

Craig dropped to the ground beside Marshal and pulled his arm back, ready to hit him but the punch never came. They were both breathing hard, the darkness hiding Craig's expressions. He let his fear and confusion play out, hoping to make Craig think he was more upset than he was. Craig had always underestimated him. Of course, back when Grant had paired up with Craig, he'd been emotionally wrecked. That would work for him. Craig would think he was still upset, maybe gloating a bit because for some reason Craig thought he was with Grant. This could work to his advantage.

"Loosen the wire. It's too painful and I can't go fast," Marshal whined.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm not putting any slack in that wire. You'll try to escape."

Marshal thought about staying calm, but he changed his mind, choosing a different path. "Come on. Please. It freaking hurts."

For a moment, Marshal thought he'd pushed Craig too far then his gaze softened. It was good that Craig thought he was weak. He could use that to get the man to slip up.

Neither the moon nor the stars were visible through the tall pines. He had no idea how long he'd been out here. The sun set close to five at this time of year and the moon had been full two days ago. If he got a look at the moon he might be able to figure out how long he'd been in the wilderness with Craig. He was cold and his arms and legs were chilled. His fingers were beyond numb.

Craig toed him with his boot, pushing him to get up. Marshal slowly stood, taking a long time pretending to be unbalanced on his feet.

"Quit messing around." Craig got close and pushed him again. This time Marshal caught himself before going down, but Craig swung, catching Marshal on the jaw. He fell, his arm going down hard on a rock. The crunch of bone registered before the pain blossomed. Marshal lay still for a long moment as Craig raged at him, aiming a few well-placed kicks to his back and shoulders.

When Craig slowed his punishment, Marshal stood on shaky legs, his head spinning. The growl grew in his throat but he suppressed it, fighting the anger that threatened to overwhelm him. If he had any chance of survival, he needed to appear meek and afraid. Craig's confidence would build and Marshal would be able to take him by surprise.

"Get moving," Craig barked.

Marshal shuffled his feet, unsure how he continued to move. The pain was almost unbearable. Craig prodded him and he would shuffle forward a bit, but he was moving slowly, hardly making any headway.

The urge to get free still played in the back of his mind. They had already covered a huge distance and were almost at the top of the hill when he heard a noise behind him. Craig must have heard it too because he stopped and turned to face the path they'd just come up. They were on a flat space about twenty feet by ten. If he was going to act, this would be his best bet.

Marshal glanced around then moved. Bending at the waist he butted Craig in the back. Weakness and dizziness made him slow, and he hadn't used enough force. Add to the mix that they weren't as close to the slope as he thought. Craig didn't fall, but Marshal dropped to his knees, leaving himself vulnerable. In that one moment, he really thought he was going to die. Craig spun around and hit Marshal across the face. The dirt and rocks came at him and he didn't fight it. He cried out as pain flashed through his body. Burning hot pain raced through him, leaving him almost unconscious. If he could just hold out a bit longer, he knew his guys were close behind him. The crunch he'd heard earlier had to be them sneaking up the mountain. Craig knew they were close too, unless that noise came from a wild animal, which if it was a deer, or worse a bear, he was screwed.

"Shut the fuck up," Craig hissed.

"Fucking hell. It hurts. I broke my fucking arm."

"Shut up," Craig yelled. He swung back his leg and let it fly, striking Marshal in the ribs.

The pain wasn't as bad as in his arm, but the burn was sharp. Marshal was at an extreme disadvantage. His right arm was broken and bound to his left one, making him move both when he really only wanted to move one. Nausea welled inside. He growled and reached for Craig's foot when he swung again. His broken arm slowed him down and he missed Craig's foot, but somehow the foot struck him in his injured arm, taking away Marshal's breath and his sanity. He screamed and wailed, his whole body drawing in, leaving him in a ball on his side.

Craig kicked him again, this time hitting his head. He needed to stop the assault, but there wasn't much he could do. Craig would beat the shit out of him, and he'd probably die up here if the asshole didn't stop soon.

Chapter Sixteen

Grant heard the noise and rushed forward. The darkness wasn't his friend and he almost ran into a low hanging tree branch. At the last minute he ducked but it didn't stop him from falling to his knees. Billy rushed ahead, cresting the rise and disappearing from his view. Grant scrambled to stand but the dirt gave way. The sound of gunfire knocked him on his ass. Everyone paused then they surged forward. Grant raced up the rest of the way, his blood pumping hard. James and Tucker were right behind him.

His flashlight illuminated the path and he wondered if he was creating a target, but he needed to find out what happened. Then the ground leveled off and he saw Billy in the dirt. Marshal was beside him. Grant searched the area for Craig coming up with nothing. They were still at risk. Even though he hadn't found Craig, the bastard could be hiding in the trees, waiting to pick them off one by one.