Dead Aim (16 page)

But he didn't respond with a double entendre as she'd thought he might. "Suppose you let me try to see the best in you."

"What?"

"I said I wouldn't draw you unless you gave me permission."

"You're not going to get it. I hate sitting still."

"Then don't. But you're still weak enough to let me have time to occasionally catch you at rest. You give me my time and I'll take you with me when I go scouting every day. That should allay the boredom for both of us."

"Aren't you afraid I won't keep up?"

"Maybe. But then I'll just have to slow down. Because I won't leave you here alone."

"Give me back my gun."

"It's in my duffel. Get it whenever you like. But what good would your gun have been against that rocket Jurgens lobbed into the lodge? Our best bet is guerrilla warfare if they find we're here."

"Not run and hide?"

"Run, stop, strike, run. Doesn't that suit you better?"

She was about to tell him no and then decided he was right. "If it's the only way to survive. I don't want to be caught like a rat in a trap. It's not fair."

"What is?"

"But this arrangement's a little lopsided. If you draw me, I want a favor from you."

He shook his head. "No photographs."

"I wouldn't even try. You're not that pretty."

"Jesus, I hope not."

But a face that held that many secrets would be fascinating to try to capture. "I'd probably end up with a photo that resembled a stone wall. No, you once told me that if I got away from you that you'd track me, that you were good at it. Well, I want you to teach me how to do that."

"Why?"

"I've been in a couple situations where it would have come in handy. I'm not a complete novice. My dad took me hunting from the time I was a little girl. I'm pretty woods savvy."

"But why tracking?"

"I remember a few years ago in Turkey there was a child who wandered away from the village when I was photographing her parents. It took us four days to find her. She was dead. She'd fallen down a slope into a river. If we'd been able to find her sooner, it might not have happened."

"I should have known. Another way to save the world."

"No, just a three-year-old little girl. Deal?"

"You can't grasp much in a few days. I had an Apache teacher who devoted months to teaching me, and it still took--"

"I'll learn what I can learn. It might help. Deal?"

He smiled. "Deal."

"Then I'm going to bed." She turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good idea. You've had a big day."

"A terrible day."

"I wish I could tell you that the worst is behind you. I won't do that."

No, he'd offered her comfort, but not at the expense of honesty. "I didn't ask you to. Good night."

She didn't turn on the light in the bedroom as she took off her pants. The shirt was too much trouble with her bad shoulder and she was too tired to bother. She just pulled the cover over her and plumped up the pillow.

It had been a terrible, frightening day, as she'd told Morgan. A day of terror and revelation and a wild mixture of emotion. A day that had drawn her closer to Morgan than she was comfortable with.

She shouldn't be that surprised. In life-threatening situations, sexuality often raised its head. She had experienced it once before with a young doctor on the flooded plains of Bangladesh. It had vanished as quickly as the danger.

But it hadn't been this strong.

It didn't matter. She could handle it. And Morgan was clearly not going to pursue that intimacy. Jesus, she was actually disappointed, she realized in disgust. All she needed was to jump into bed with a man like Morgan.

Except there was no other man like Morgan. She had never met anyone this complex, and the more she learned about him, the fewer weapons she had against him. His ways were not her ways, but it was difficult to condemn a man who--

Stop thinking about him. If she had to stay awake, think of something that would help her get out of this predicament.

Z-1. No, the picture was bigger now. Bigger and more bewildering. If Z-1 was Arapahoe Dam and that target had been destroyed . . .

Wouldn't Z-2 be next?

"What's the progress on Z-2?" Betworth asked. "You haven't got much time, Powers."

"No problem. We'll meet the deadline."

"But with what kind of success?"

"I think you should know that I'll follow through. The only reason there's been any delay is that you told me to go after Graham."

"But that's not an excuse now. I gave that assignment to Jurgens."

"And he hasn't been too successful, has he?"

"He'll get her. You concentrate on Z-2." He hung up and leaned back in his chair. Keep calm. Everything would go as planned. He was handling all the details with his usual skill. Jurgens would find Graham and Morgan and take them out. Everything would be--

His phone rang.

"I can't find him, Betworth."

Runne.

"For God's sake, why haven't you returned my calls?"

"I need to find him. I've run out of leads. You get me one."

He drew a deep breath. No excuses. The arrogant, fanatical bastard was giving him orders. "Perhaps if you'd returned my calls, I could have given you some assistance."

"Can you?"

He wanted to hang up on him. That would be a mistake. Runne was a wild card, but Betworth had plans for him. Besides, he might be the one who could bring in Morgan. "He was in Colorado a few days ago. He might still be there, but I doubt it. Wherever he is, he's with a woman, Alex Graham."

"You're sure?"

"Oh, yes."

"Can you send me a photo of her?"

"I don't have to. Pick up a newspaper. Don't you ever read a newspaper or watch television?"

"No."

"Well, she's very hot. So it won't do any good to give you addresses or phone numbers."

"Then what good is she to me?"

"It's pretty obvious Morgan isn't going to abandon her, so that makes her an albatross. She'll slow him down. He doesn't have to slow down much for you to catch him, does he?"

"No, but fax me the information anyway. I'll call you back and give you the fax number in the town I'm in. I might be able to go through her people to locate her."

"I told you, everyone's searching for her."

"That doesn't make any difference. They'll stop, they'll hesitate, they'll wonder if they'll get caught if they go too far. I have the advantage. I don't care." He hung up.

"Okay." Judd gazed out over the mountains. "I'll give you fifteen minutes' head start. You take off and hide from me. Get going."

"You're tracking me?" Alex said. "How am I going to learn anything?"

"You make the trail and then we go back over it and see what you did wrong."

"What I did wrong?"

"Sorry, wrong phrase. I'm used to hunting prey who don't want to be found. But it's the only way I know how to teach you. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it." She took off running down the slope.

"Found." Judd pulled Alex out of the brush. "You must be getting tired. You were really clumsy that time."

"Thanks." She grimaced. "That's the third time. I'm getting depressed. If it's that easy to track someone, why couldn't we find that little girl?"

"It's not easy. It takes practice. There are all kinds of things that obscure signs. She might have wandered in the shallow part of the river for a while. Rain could have washed the signs away. Children don't weigh much, and her feet probably made little impression in the grass. If she walked for a long time in the mud, she might have picked up enough of it on her shoes to form a pillow of mud. That makes it almost impossible to identify a human footstep except by the stride. A large animal might have walked over her prints and destroyed them. Or maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What does that mean?"

"The angle of light." He studied her face. "You're tired. We'll go over your mistakes and then go back to the house." He turned away and moved up the slope. "You dislodged rocks over there." He pointed. "You flattened ground cover when you first started down this hill, and the color is a little different." He pointed again. "You broke the stem of that plant when you went into the bushes." He knelt down. "And here's a clear footprint."

"It doesn't look clear to me."

"See the curve where your toe pushed into the ground?"

She nodded. "It's like learning a foreign language."

"Your eyes just have to train themselves to see the signs. There are four indicators to watch out for. Flattening, when dirt, rocks, or twigs are pressed into the ground by the weight of a foot. Regularity, which is an effect caused by straight lines or geometric shapes or anything not generally found in nature. Color change, which is a difference in color or texture from the area that surrounds it. Disturbance, which is a recent change or rearrangement." He moved ahead of her. "Come on, we'll go to the first place you hid and we'll go over the signs there."

She hurried to keep up with him. "I might as well have left a sign pointing to where I was."

"Well, yes. But I didn't have to look at the ground when I got near those shrubs."

"Why not?"

"I smelled you."

She missed a step. "What?"

"Deodorants, toothpastes, shampoos are the scents of civilization. But nature gives everyone their own individual scents."

"You're saying I stink?"

He looked at her. "No, you smell intensely female. It couldn't be more enticing."

She glanced quickly away from him. "Or identifiable, evidently."

"I'd know you in the dark."

She inhaled sharply and searched wildly for something to say. "And did your Apache friend educate your nose as well as your eyes?"

"No, it's a talent. I just had to refine it."

"Sarah's dog, Monty, has a wonderful nose."

He started to laugh. "You're comparing me to a dog?"

The tension was gone, she realized with relief. "Well, he's an exceptional dog."

"Then I guess I'll have to accept that as a compliment." He knelt down and pointed to a spot some forty yards away. "Here's where I first picked up your trail. Do you see the shine?"

She squatted down beside him. "Yes, how did I do that?"

"Your footprints pressed into dirt particles, which formed a reflective surface. But you can only see them in an oblique light angle."

"As shine."

"But you might miss them if you were right on top. That's why distance is good."

"Well, you're definitely an expert on distance."

"I'm not bad on top either."

She didn't make the mistake of looking at him this time. She quickly rose to her feet. "Let's go. I can't wait to see what else I did wrong."

"You're pretty incredible out there." She stared into the fire as she slowly sipped her hot chocolate. "How did you meet this Indian who taught you to track?"

"The Army sent me to him. It was part of my training." His pencil moved swiftly over the sketch pad. "You never know when you're going to have to seek out and find. Actually, it took me longer than it should have to become proficient. At first, I didn't like hunting. I had to learn to block out the thought of the final kill and concentrate on the chase itself. You know, you look really good in the firelight. . . ."

"You'd better draw fast. This heat is making me sleepy."

"Just a little while longer. . . . You said you went hunting with your father. That surprises me. I can't see you with a rifle."

"We didn't take rifles. My father didn't like shooting animals. We took cameras."

"Now I understand. Much more in character."

"Do most people in your profession have problems learning to"--she searched for a word--"hunt?"

"Kill. Say it." His gaze remained on the sketch. "Some do, some don't. Occasionally, you find someone who loves it. Loves the hunt. Loves the kill."

"Not you?"

"No."

"But you've known someone who does?"

He nodded. "And for a short while he infected me with his enthusiasm."

"Was he as good as you?"

"No, but he came close." He put the sketch pad on the end table beside him. "Go on to bed. I've captured the essence. I'll fill in the rest tomorrow."

He didn't want to answer any more questions. Well, she probably shouldn't ask any more. She wasn't sure whether those moments in the cold mountains or these last hours beside the blazing fire were the most intimate.

She rose to her feet. "You may have the best part of our deal. I have a hunch I'm not going to be very good at this tracking business."

"You'll be good. You have good eyes. You're smart and you learn fast. Tomorrow you'll remember everything I've said and it will be harder for me to find you."