Lost in Shadows (20 page)

Woman was prepared for anything and everything, he thought as he bounded through the snow.

Chase was shouting at him to hurry, but Lucky’s entire attention was concentrated on the flames crawling over the belly of the helicopter, racing toward Vinnie’s precarious position balanced on top of the overturned machine. 

His left hand shook as he raised the heavy extinguisher, a sharp pain tore through his shoulder. Lucky ignored it, aiming the foam fire retardant at the flames nearest the fuel tank. Jet fuel burned at his eyes, they teared uncontrollably. His face heated as he got closer to the flames.

“KC is inside,” Chase yelled from behind Lucky. 

Frustration and fear filled his friend’s voice, but there was little Lucky could do. If he tried to climb on top of the wreckage, it could very well topple over, crushing him, Chase, and Vinnie beneath it.

As soon as he extinguished one area, a new one would blossom with the intense blue fire. He wiped his eyes clear and looked up to check on Vinnie’s progress. 

To his horror, she was crouched at the hatch, her arm snaking into the small opening she’d created. Reaching for the emergency release handle, he assumed. Her eyes met his, and he could see that she wasn’t having much success. 

“Vinnie,” he shouted. “Get down, now. I can’t stop it!”

She frowned and shook her head, not bothering to waste energy on a reply. A look of grim determination filled her face as flames crept ever closer to her position.

Lucky’s fire extinguisher sputtered and died. He threw it to the ground in disgust. All he’d achieved was to give Vinnie enough time to trap herself further. He reached for the mangled strut that hung overhead, determined to haul her off the wreckage before the fuel tank blew.

“Now, Vinnie! Get out of here! I’ll get KC.”

The flames reached the fuel tank. They licked the surface hungrily, poking and prodding for a way into the tank. No more time left.

Before he could grab Vinnie, pull her out of danger, the helicopter door flew past him, quickly followed by the figures of two women. Lucky turned. Vinnie and KC scrambled to drag Chase out of danger.

Now it was his turn to run.

Lucky bolted toward the cabin, following close on the footsteps of his comrades. They had only made it halfway across when an ominous hush filled the clearing, as if a giant were inhaling, preparing to blow out his birthday candles. 

“Down!” he called out to the women. He threw himself at Vinnie, hoping he could protect her, as KC covered Chase’s body with her own.

A loud whoosh accompanying a blast of heat blew across the clearing, shaking through the trees. There was a teeth-jarring wrenching noise as the helicopter completed its fall to the ground, toppling the tree it had hung from, followed by an explosion that screamed through the air and into Lucky’s brain.

The earth shook around him as several smaller blasts followed. Flaming debris rained down on them, but nothing large enough to cause any serious injury. Lucky shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears and saw that Vinnie lay with her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers gripping his arm with bruising force.

“Hey, it’s all right,” he tried to reassure her. His voice came out louder than intended, echoing in his head. “The worst is over.”

He cradled her head into his chest with his good arm, her tears seeping beneath his clothing, warming his own chilled skin. God, he had come so close to losing her—to losing everything. 

He was shaking, tried to tell himself it was adrenalin, not fear.

“I could use a little help here, if you guys can spare a hand.” KC’s voice cut into Lucky’s momentary reprieve, yanking him back to reality. 

Reluctantly, he loosened his hold on Vinnie, allowing her to ease back into a sitting position. Vinnie wiped her tears and refocused her attention on her patient. Resourceful and resilient—he was learning to love every aspect of this woman, this Good Samaritan events had set in Lucky’s path.

No such thing as coincidence, he reminded himself.

“Where’s The Preacher?” Chase asked from his position on the ground.

Lucky laughed. Trust the Marine to be single minded about his mission. 

“Tied up on the porch. Looks like neither one of you is going anywhere soon,” he said, his stomach rebelling at the sight of Chase’s right leg, twisted out at an unnatural angle above his boot top. This was why he preferred his nice, clean demolition lab. 

Vinnie didn’t seem to be bothered at all by Chase’s gruesome injury. In fact, she was in her element, immediately taking control of the situation, barking out orders like a drill sergeant. She soon had Chase’s leg splinted to prevent further damage as they used her cot mattress as a makeshift stretcher to move him inside.

The women dealt with Chase while Lucky did a quick reconnaissance of the cabin. The Preacher and his men had smashed Vinnie’s radio. A pot of coffee simmered on the propane stove and a large fire roared from the fireplace that heated both rooms. Climbing, skiing, and kayaking equipment hung from the rafters and pegs on the walls. 

What amazed him was the number of books. The small two-room cabin held more than most local libraries. Books on every topic from Amazon deforestation to Zen meditation, all stacked neatly and looking well-loved.

Lucky returned to the porch, securing the weapons and ammo from the guard he had killed. Then he turned to deal with The Preacher.

The sun had set, sending the temperature outside the cabin plummeting. Lucky was half tempted to leave the maniac where he was, let him take his chances with the elements. The Preacher seemed to follow his thoughts, smiling up at Lucky in the dim light emerging from the cabin windows.

“So nice to see you again, Agent Cavanaugh. We have unfinished business, you and I.” The Preacher spoke as if they were casual acquaintances met by accident rather than lawman and prey. 

Or predator and victim, if you looked at it from The Preacher’s point of view, Lucky thought, his mind reeling back to that ghastly night last month. His jaws clamped together. Never again, he vowed.

This time The Preacher’s fate lay in Lucky’s hands.

CHAPTER 30

Vinnie finally had a second to shed her parka once she got Lucky’s friend moved onto her bed. 

Chase’s fiancé, KC, was making herself at home, lighting the propane lamps. Vinnie frowned as she hung her parka on a coat hook, the back was singed in several places, one shoulder ripped open, Thermaloft poking through the opening, and the hood hanging on by a few threads. Although the coat had been one of her favorites, it wasn’t the reason for her frown.

A known terrorist with legions of rabid followers was tied up on her porch, who knew how long it would be before his people came to claim him, she had an injured man in her bed who might lose his leg if she couldn’t re-align the fractured bones and restore circulation to the limb, and they still had to warn the authorities about The Preacher’s planned attacks. 

A ruined coat was the least of her worries.

She moved to the bed. Chase had fainted while they carried him inside. Probably for the best, what was to follow was going to be even more painful. 

She unsheathed her knife and cut the laces of his boot, trying hard not to jostle his leg. He moaned, drawing KC immediately to his side.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Vinnie looked up at the petite woman with her dark curly hair ringing her face. KC’s voice was level, asking for facts more than voicing criticism. A tough one, Vinnie thought. Good, she was going to need to be tough for what came next.

“I can’t find a pulse in his foot,” Vinnie told her. “I need to reduce the fracture, splint it and then get the swelling down.”

KC’s lips tightened, but she nodded. “You’ll need help. I’ll get Lucky while you get ready.”

Vinnie watched her brush back Chase’s sweat matted hair and kiss his forehead tenderly. It was an incongruous image compared with KC’s military fatigues and body armor. Not to mention the very large gun holstered at her hip. 

Vinnie wished she could give the two more time, they were so obviously in love. During the short time Chase was conscious, his only words had been concern about his mission and KC’s welfare.

“I’m sorry about your wedding,” Vinnie offered. Small solace, but it drew a wry half smile from the other woman. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her eyes locked on Chase’s still form, her fingers combing through his hair. “It was all Chase’s idea anyway. Still,” her voice caught and Vinnie glanced away, busied herself with arranging items from the large first aid kit she had opened on her dresser, “it would have been nice. Dancing at our wedding.”

Vinnie glanced up to see KC staring at her in appraisal. “Looks like Lucky found himself a winner.”

“We just met yesterday,” Vinnie stammered. “Anyway, he’ll be going back to the city—”

KC nodded and her smile widened. “Yeah, that’s how it was for us. All those clichés, falling head over heels and all, finally made sense. I’m still falling, don’t think I’ll ever hit bottom.” Her fingers caressed Chase’s cheek, then she straightened. “I’ll get Lucky.”

“You’re not going to kill me, Agent Cavanaugh,” The Preacher crooned, his voice as hypnotic as a cobra’s. 

Lucky’s grip on the Taurus he’d taken from the dead guard tightened. 

“I know how you think. All of you.” The Preacher nodded to the cabin. “So brave, so ready to sacrifice, even jeopardize your women. And for what? A government riddled with corruption, that has betrayed its own pledge to the people that it belongs to. It’s all so pathetic how easily the weak are brainwashed into blind obedience.”

“Like your followers?” Lucky snapped, immediately regretting it. 

This man was his prisoner; there was no reason for him to be conversing with him except to learn information about the attacks The Preacher had planned. 

“I noticed several of your actions tomorrow are essentially suicide attacks. Aren’t you betraying your people by sending them into a battle you know they won’t return from?”

The Preacher merely smirked. “I’m not sending them anywhere. They volunteered, giving their lives for the greater cause, an America free from the tyranny of a bastard government.”

“And just how are your fanatics going to feel when they realize you sold them out? I’m sure the Al-Qaeda cell in Miami wasn’t counting on being manipulated into an attack planned by the same man who also controls The Crusade, not to mention your other nutjobs in PETA and ELF and the rest. What did you do, tour every psych ward in the country, searching for fanatics you could twist to serve your needs?”

“The ones who die will die happy, in the service of their cause. The others will also rejoice once the Second Revolution is upon us. Then,” his eyes gleamed in the dark, the whites showing, “I will be ready to achieve my destiny, lead this country back to its former greatness.”

Lucky shook his head in disbelief, the man was so far gone he couldn’t accept the fact that he had already lost. 

The Preacher seemed to follow his train of thought. “They’re coming for me, Agent Cavanaugh. You’d best behave yourself—remember what happened the last time we met? When my people get here, we’ll have some more fun. Maybe we’ll start with the resourceful Mrs. Ryan, and you can watch.”

“Shut up!” Lucky whipped his hand up, ready to smash the smile from The Preacher’s face. “Don’t you ever—”

“Lucky!” KC grabbed his arm before he could complete the action and strike the defenseless man. 

Lucky’s hand shook as he lowered it. He took a step back, out of range of The Preacher’s mesmerizing gaze. 

“Get him inside, we have to help Chase.” KC gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

Lucky crouched down to loosen the climbing rope he had used to secure The Preacher to the porch railing. The Preacher stood and gave KC a small bow. 

“Thank you, Agent Zdzieba,” he said as he rubbed his wrists. “It was getting a bit cold out here.”

“Don’t thank me,” KC snapped. “Unlike Lucky, I don’t waste time talking. I tend to shoot first instead.” 

CHAPTER 31

KC prodded The Preacher into the bedroom where she stood guard over him while Lucky bound him hand and foot to one of Vinnie’s sturdy rough-hewn wooden chairs. 

Lucky turned the chair to face the corner, a particularly lethal toddler in time out, so that they could watch their captive’s hands while they worked on Chase. And saving Lucky from the continuous temptation of smacking the smirk from The Preacher’s face.

Vinnie had prepared splinting materials, a bag of snow to numb Chase’s ankle, and was finishing dressing the minor scrapes, burns and lacerations that peppered Chase’s arms and head. Chase mumbled a few times as she cleaned a deep abrasion and batted her arm away.

“Sorry,” Vinnie said. “I know it hurts.” 

KC left Lucky to finish securing their prisoner and moved to kneel at the head of the narrow cot.

“What the hell’s everyone looking at?” Chase demanded. “Did someone contact Rose?”