In Enemy Hands (20 page)

Vandergriff whistled while he walked the perimeter of his estate, cheered by his last call from Cahill. He’d felt a rush of relief when Cahill confirmed they were safely back in the air. The fuel stop had been his only worry, the only weakness in his plan. He wasn’t worried in the least about California. He had enough men in place there to rout Andreakos’ pitiful crew, but Kansas was different. He’d barely had time to assemble a skeleton crew on the ground, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Andreakos simply hadn’t had time to react.

Vandergriff barked orders into a walkie talkie. Tonight, Andreakos would hit, and hit hard. He had to be ready to take advantage of it.

Despite the battle he knew was coming, Vandergriff felt jovial. His bounty hunter had blindsided Andreakos. How delicious to imagine the agony and frustration his enemy suffered at this moment.

His cell phone rang. Vandergriff lifted it and stared in puzzlement at the number glowing in the green LCD light. What was Cahill doing calling again? He answered the call.

“Surely you’re not in California yet,” he said, glancing at his watch.

“No, sir. We’re still in the air. Uh, Mr. Vandergriff … we have a problem.”

“Problem?” he demanded. “What, with the plane?”

On the other end of the line, Cahill fell silent.

“What is the problem?” Vandergriff asked.

Cahill cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “The girl is gone.”

Vandergriff heard the words, but he couldn’t comprehend them. “Gone?
Gone?
Are you trying to tell me she’s dead?”

Cahill didn’t respond.

Vandergriff’s last strand of patience snapped. “Cahill, if you don’t answer me, so help me, I’ll-”

“She jumped out of the airplane, sir,” Cahill blurted. “She took Peterson’s gun away from him and jumped out of the airplane. I’ve never seen anything like it. She, uh, she wasn’t wearing a parachute.”

Vandergriff’s mind whirled and he leaned against an oak tree. He scrubbed his eyes with his fist. “Okay, so she’s dead,” he mumbled, more to himself than Cahill. “It’s still okay. It will still work.”

This wasn’t what he’d planned, not yet anyway, but regardless, it would be a swift, crippling blow to Andreakos. Now, he only had to capitalize—

“No, sir,” Cahill said quietly, snapping Vandergriff’ attention back to the conversation.

“No what?” he asked, confused.

“She’s not dead. She jumped. The bounty hunter jumped from another plane and … he caught her. They parachuted to the desert floor.”

For a moment, Vandergriff stood there, utterly stunned. Utterly frozen.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“What?” he screamed, and was shocked by the madness he heard in his own voice. “What?” he squawked again, like a deranged parrot, but he couldn’t seem to force anything else out.

“I’ve got a parachute in the cockpit,” Cahill offered. “Do you want me to go after her? We’re circling the landing area.”

“Of course I want you to go after her, you idiot! I’m calling in reinforcements. Don’t even think of coming back without that girl.”

“Sir-”

“Cahill, dead or alive. Find the girl and the bounty hunter and bring them to me.”

Nadia gasped his name as Dante’s lips found the hollow of her throat. His hand stole beneath her shirt.

Slowly, Dante became conscious of another sound, a distant roar that wasn’t quite drowned out by the pounding pulse in his ears. He looked up to see the yellow plane circling the sky above them.

A few yards away, the ground exploded into a plume of orange smoke.

“What is that?” Nadia shouted.

“A marker,” he said, already scrambling to his feet.

He reached for Nadia, and another one exploded on the other side of them. More orange smoke. But it wasn’t just smoke. It was a thick, paint-like substance that coated the surface around it. He’d only seen them used in military training.

“Is it gas?” Nadia asked when Dante hauled her to her feet and grabbed the backpack.

“No. It acts like a flare, to show them where we are. Like a big, orange bullseye. They’re coming after us.”

Grabbing her hand, he began to run, heading for the rocky hills on their left. He looked at his wrist, at the tracking device Nick had given him.

It would all come down to which group found them first, because there was nowhere to hide. The place was wide open.

They scrambled up a red-streaked hill, and Dante scanned the area below. A narrow, rocky valley lay between the surrounding hills. Then he saw the aging structures built into the sides of those hills.

Maybe. Just maybe there was something to work with.

Dante started down the hill. The loose rocks rolled underneath his boots and he lost his footing. He let go of Nadia’s hand to keep from dragging her along with him when his feet skidded out from underneath him, and he began to slip down the steep incline on his back.

Another orange cloud exploded to his left. Trying to right himself, he couldn’t slow his mad descent as he went skating along the rough surface on his behind. He landed with a thump on the valley floor, slapping his injured shoulder against the rock.

The pain was bright and sharp and he clutched his wound, emitting an agonized groan. He blinked through the dust in his eyes, looking for Nadia.

A red cloud of dust rocketed toward him. Nadia was sliding too.

There was no way to catch her. No way to cushion her fall. Dante winced at the sound of her body smacking against the desert floor.

He scrambled over to her, clutching his shoulder as he ran. “Are you okay?”

He was relieved to hear her muttered curse.

Nadia lay flat on her back, blinking up at him. Then she held out her hand. Dante hauled her up. Her arm was scraped, bleeding, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy laughing.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, grinning despite his pain. “That
hurt!
”

She snickered. “You got a seat left in those pants, Slick?”

“I doubt I’ve got a butt left in these pants,” he replied, rubbing his hip. “And you weren’t exactly Ms. Grace and Finesse, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. It was your fault. I was doing fine until you tripped me. Hey, what’s this?” she asked, finally noticing their find.

The shadowy spots he’d seen from above were exactly what he’d hoped they were. Mine shafts. Old, abandoned mine shafts.

Perfect hiding places.

A couple of weathered boards covered the entrance of the nearest shaft. Planting his boot on the doorframe, Dante grasped one of them and pulled with all his might, even though it made his shoulder scream.

He had overestimated the rotting wood and the rusty nails that held it. The board gave way easily and he tumbled backward on his rear.

“Don’t know your own strength?” she smirked.

Nadia stepped around him and was about to walk inside when Dante grabbed her ankle.

“Wait, babe. We need to check it before we go in there. Rattlesnakes like it in these things.”

“Rattlesnakes?” Nadia asked, and took a step backward.

Her eyes looked greener than ever in contrast with her dirt-smudged face. Dante found it amusing that, even covered in dust, Nadia was still the most beautiful, breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. He managed to tear his gaze away from her long enough to dig one of the flashlights out of the backpack, along with a revolver.

“And scorpions. And bats,” he said. “You’d better let me go first.”

“Hey, be my guest,” Nadia muttered, stooping to peer into the dark space. Then she jerked backward, covering her nose with her hand. “Oh, man … it stinks in there!”

When Dante touched her elbow, she jumped.

“Easy there,” he joked. “I’ll protect you.”

Smoky eyes shot daggers through him. Dante winked at her and played the light on the gray-brown floor of the shaft.

“Watch that rock pile you’re standing by,” he said, pointing at her feet. “Snakes like those too.”

Nadia moved instantly, coming to stand behind him.

After a cursory examination, Dante gingerly walked inside. Nadia was right. Something did stink in there. The shaft smelled musty, but there was another smell beneath that. Something foul.

Dead.

Dante backed out of there in a hurry, nearly tripping over Nadia in his haste to get back outside.

“Did I mention mountain lions?” he asked.

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re lying.

“If I’m lion, I’m dyin’,” he replied, before he thought better of it.

Nadia punched him in the stomach and stuck her head back inside the shaft. This time they both heard it. A low, feline growl. She raised her head abruptly and rapped it on the rotting gray board above her.

“Ow, ow, ow!” she moaned. Her hand clutched at the injury that Ronnie had so recently patched for her. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Get over there,” Dante said. “I have an idea.”

After mashing around a small sagebrush with the toe of his boot, he grasped the prickly thing and pulled it out of the ground. Stepping carefully over to Nadia, he used it to brush away the footprints leading from the shaft.

Now all Vandergriff’s men would see would be their tracks leading into the shaft. With any luck, they’d barrel in after them.

Nadia laughed. “You’re good.”

“The best.”

“We’ll see about that.” Nadia gave him a bawdy wink that made him want to prove himself to her right here, right now. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

She wanted him too. It was in her touch, her smile. In those wild green eyes.

Did she have any idea how crazy she made him feel?

The roar of the plane faded in the distance and Dante looked up in surprise. Where were they going?

Even though they’d marked the landing area, he couldn’t believe they wouldn’t circle around, watching them.

Then Dante saw him. A tiny dot in the sky.

They had company. The plane was simply going back for reinforcements.

“Come on,” he said, anxious to hide somewhere before their visitor landed.

They hurried to the next cluster of shafts, with Dante scrubbing away their tracks as they went. This shaft had no barriers nailed up. Dante inspected it carefully, his ears tuned for the soft whir of a rattlesnake or the growl of a cougar. He took Nadia’s hand. She gazed across the way at the first shaft they’d entered.

“Aren’t all these things connected?”

“Not necessarily.”

“What if the cat finds us?”

“What if Vandergriff finds us?” he replied. “Don’t tell me the fearless Nadia Branson is chicken.”

“I am not. And if you say that one more time, I’m going to smack you,” she said, and grabbed the flashlight out of his hand. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

Dante smiled behind her back and followed her through the entryway.

They moved silently through the shaft, alert for the warning sound of any predator. Dante had his revolver in his hand, but he wasn’t sure he could use it in here. Any shot could ricochet off the rock walls. He dug through the backpack and pulled out another light, curious about his surroundings.

They turned the first corner and the sunlight from the entryway disappeared completely. The darkness was thick, oppressive, and Dante felt a little claustrophobic. The beams from the flashlights stopped dead a few feet in front of them, swallowed up by the inky blackness beyond.

Dante played his light on the thick slabs of wood that acted as support beams and wondered how old they were, how stable. Even the air in the place smelled old. He was suddenly very conscious of the weight above them. Cracks snaked across the rock ceiling and Dante wondered how much movement it would take to bring the whole place down on top of them.

His heartbeat picked up when the shaft abruptly narrowed. Dante extended his arms and his fingertips brushed both sides. He had to duck to keep from hitting the low ceiling. Wondering how Nadia was doing, he played the light over her left shoulder to illuminate her face.

She was smiling.

Dante chuckled and shook his head. Everything about this girl surprised him.

“What?” she whispered.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Being alone with a totally hot, although somewhat clumsy guy in the dark. What’s not to—whoa! “

Nadia stopped and reached behind her to place her palm against his chest. She shone her light down at the floor in front of her, at the deep fissure in the earth. It was narrow enough to cross over, but several feet deep. Deep enough to hurt a person if he stumbled into it.

He was really going to have to start paying attention to more than Nadia.

“Maybe we could—set a trap,” Nadia suggested.

Dante shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ll trap the wrong ones. Your father is tracking us too. With this.” He held up the GPS device on his wrist for her inspection. “I’m not high on his list of favorite people right now. I’m pretty sure a broken leg wouldn’t help my case any.”

“I bet he and Maria are going insane,” Nadia said ruefully, and leapt over the fissure before Dante could help her.

“You should’ve seen his face when I told him I wanted you to jump out of that plane without a parachute. I thought he was going to shoot me.” He hesitated and said, “Nadia … I meant to tell you before … I’m so sorry for everything … for all the trouble I’ve caused you.”