Megan's Mark (24 page)

A tight smile curved her lips as she began to move quicker now, heading for a point between the Raider and that particular tree as she kept an eye on the unassuming little splotch of color that almost blended perfectly with the tree.

Almost. Once she knew where to look, picking out the different shade of green wasn’t that difficult. Whoever it was, they were well trained.

As she moved Into position behind one of the thick tree trunks between the Raider and the watcher, she searched behind her, around her. She could sense nothing, no eyes on her, no prickling awareness of a weapon aimed her way. There was more than one, but evidently not within sight of her.

Moving easily, she leveled her weapon at the watcher, seeing just enough of his camouflaged body to know that if she had to shoot, she could take him out.

Now, where the hell was Braden?

———

He was going to beat her ass.

Braden stifled the growl in his throat as he caught Megan inching her way from the safety of the boulders and working her way to the top of the canyon. There were at least two snipers hiding somewhere in the field, perhaps more farther ahead.

They weren’t Breeds. This was military, or at least military trained. Cold and efficient, aware that any hint of emotion would give their positions away. He could sense them, but he couldn’t follow the path of that knowledge to their location.

They were in the pines. He paused as he moved over the rim of the canyon, staring into the pines that hid the Raider from view. They would be in there, most likely in the trees rather than on the ground. The scent was too diluted, to hard to follow for them to be accessible. So that left no place to go but up.

As he snaked his way through the gently swaying grass, keeping close to the scattered boulders and thick vegetation. he watched the trees, narrowing his eyes as he sought any sign of movement.

They were good. They weren’t moving.

He checked Megan’s position and began to push himself closer. The watchers’ vantage point from above gave them an edge on him. They could watch the Raider as well as the field and have a bird’s-eye shot on anything that moved.

But that was okay. He could move pretty damned fast, and once the first shot went off, the watchers’ position would be compromised. Tightening his lips in renewed fury, he watched as Megan quickly made her way toward the pine thicket. She was good. And fast. He could barely catch sight of her as she crawled the distance on her belly.

He moved in line with her, keeping an eye on her until she disappeared behind one thick tree trunk, then another.

Once beneath the pines, she was marginally safer. But marginally didn’t help his nerves much.

He moved quicker now that Megan was beneath the pines, drawing in the scents trapped within the clearing as he made his way to the area. The Raider was perhaps forty feet away, beneath the trees, to the east. That gave Megan an edge in getting to it if the whole deal went from sugar to shit.

Damn her, he was going to beat her ass for doing something so stupid. She wasn’t trained to fight like this. Her mind was too sensitive right now to go against opponents who were better trained and determined to kill.

There he was. The first watcher was positioned on the lower limb of a tree just ahead. The sole of his boots gave him away as he shifted. A rifle barrel was tucked into the pine needles, its dark eye trained on the edge of the canyon behind Braden.

Excellent.

He moved in carefully, gauging the jump to the limb and how quickly he could raise an alarm. Braden knew he would have to be fast.

He slid the knife he carried on his leg free of its sheath, the metal making no sound as it cleared the leather that held it snugly in place.

Wickedly sharp, lethal. He paused as he came within distance of a throw. Wound or wipe? Damn, he hated not knowing, but any friendly took their own chances sneaking up on him.

Turning the weapon, he balanced the blade in his hand before pulling back for a throw.

“I don’t think so, Breed.”

Braden stilled as he felt the movement behind him then.

Son of a bitch.

He raised his hands slowly, calculating the risk.

“Nice looking knife, Bree—” The voice was silenced as Braden flipped the blade with a hard twist of his wrist and went to the ground in a quick roll.

Turning, he jerked the powerful rifle from the gasping soldier before turning and shooting into the pine. Two down.

Bending low, he ran for the pines and Megan.

The shot ricocheted around the clearing as the soldier fell from the pine headfirst to the unforgiving ground below.

Adrenaline surged through Megan’s body the second the shot was fired. The blood also began to race through her body, her senses heightening. the need for action rushing through her like a runaway train on a collision course with every dream she ever imagined.

Instinct kicked in, her mind opening, the sensations, impressions and instant information slamming into it and combining with the excitement that tore through her.

She knew the two fallen men weren’t the only ones, but the others were far enough away to give her and Braden a chance. She sprinted from the trees, running hard and fast for the Raider, her feet pounding against the earth. Adrenaline gave her a burst of speed, a rush of strength she had only ever known the few times she had been in a truly dangerous situation.

She loved it. Craved it. This was living.

She slid against the Raider seconds later, jerking at the door handle as her fingerprints registered with the security and the door flew open. Jumping into the seat, she started the motor and revved it hard as she slammed the door, her gaze scanning the area for Braden. A flash of golden brown ahead had a smile curving her lips as she pushed the gas to the floor. The heavily grooved tires bit into the dirt, rocketing her forward as she headed for Braden. Gunfire was pounding the back of the Raider as she swerved to allow the vehicle to intercept the hits.

Turning the wheel quickly, the Raider blew up dirt and debris as she reached over and flung the passenger-side door open just in time for Braden to throw himself inside, the bullets spraying around them barely missing him.

“How many?” She turned the wheel again, pressed the pedal to the floor and raced through the pines as she headed out of the clearing.

“Three.” Jerking the mother of all automatic rifles from the backseat, he slapped an ammo cartridge into the underbelly before swinging the seat around to face the back.

“Hold on,” she screamed, glimpsing the vehicles racing through the entrance toward them.

A heavily armed Desert Dragoon headed her way. Small, wide and compact, built for speed and handling in desert terrain, the Dragoon was easily the better vehicle. And besides, it had weapons. Lots of weapons. Two laser-guided rocket launchers with heat-seeking specs, an easily maneuverable machine gun mounted to the roof and operated from inside the specially secured interior.

And whoever was driving it knew what the hell they were doing. Following behind were two stripped down, weapon-ready motorcycles eating up the terrain.

“Bastards!” She jerked the wheel, spinning around as ;he instantly gauged the distance between them and the canyon. The Dragoon was good, damned good, but it didn’t jump distance worth a damn. That was why Lance went for the Raiders instead. And to be safe, he had tinkered with both his and Megan’s.

“Hang on,” she yelled as Braden’s curses sizzled the air.

“God dammit, how did they find us so fucking fast.” He vas snarling.

Megan laughed.

“I got your back, baby,” she yelled, stomping the gas and heading for the canyon. “Hang on to your ass though.”

The canyon was almost eight hundred yards away, plenty of room for gaining speed, especially with the special booster attached to the underbelly of the Raider. She flipped open the port between the seats as Braden flipped around.

“Fuck. Megan. What the hell are you doing?” The canyon was wide; she gave him credit for his concern.

“Desert Dragoons can’t jump the cliff,” she yelled back. “The cycles might follow us, but we’ll lose those rockets the Dragoon is carrying.”

“And you think Raiders can jump?” he shouted incredulously. “Holy shit. I’m beating your ass, Megan. I’m telling you. We live through this, and you’ve had it.”

Her laughter met the threat as she began to count. She passed the halfway point. Four hundred feet to go. Her speed was rising fast, but not fast enough to jump without help. She fingered the accelerator switch, watching the speedometer as she held the gas to the floor.

“Laser guidance detected.” The Raider’s automatic defense system activated, the computer’s modulated voice giving the warning. “Firing can commence within three feet.”

Three more feet. If she didn’t keep that Dragoon far enough behind her, then they were toast. She watched the rapidly approaching canyon, calculated the distance of landing and then the two seconds it would take to reach the cover of trees. Almost there.

Her finger itched to hit the accelerator as the canyon loomed closer.

Almost there.

“Laser guidance can commence in two feet.”

The Dragoon was gaining fast, but it couldn’t jump the distance. Easy maneuverability, but heavy on weapons from what she saw.

Almost.

“Laser guidance can commence in one foot.”

She didn’t bother to check rearview mirrors. Speed was hitting one hundred and twenty, almost, but not enough.

Just another second. Another second.

One hundred feet. Fifty feet. Twenty. She aimed the Raider for the natural up-sloped lip.

“Hang on.” She hit the accelerator, her breath wheezing from her chest as the Raider shot the last few yards, hitting the dirt ramp and flying through the air.

“Hell yes, baby!” Braden yelled as the Raider cleared the canyon and slammed down on solid earth seconds later, bouncing them in their seats and activating the quick inflate on the seat belts that held them in their seats, preventing possible injury in the event of such a sudden drop.

“Rocket activation, no lock,” the computer voiced as Megan sent the Raider speeding into the cover of the trees, twisting the wheel brutally to avoid the thick trunks as she headed down the sharp slope to the road below.

“Those motorcycles are on our ass. Their mini rockets will do some heavy damage.” Braden flipped around again.

“Security, disengage window, retain security field.”

The wide back window dropped away as Braden began firing.

Megan activated the link to Control that Braden had programmed in days before.

“Lance. Lance, where are you?” She yelled out the question as she fought the wheel, bouncing over rocks and more than one deep water-weathered gully in her race to reach the flat land below.

“Control, this is Deputy Fields. I need a copter in the air ASAP. I repeat, I need a copter in the air, position Area Six-fifteen, Section A, heading to Twenty-four. Two cycles, enemy fire. Come back, Control,” Megan yelled into the link as Braden fired behind them.

“Son of a fucking bitch, Megan.” Lance was screaming into the link in less than a second, the fury pounding through his voice bringing a smile to her face. “Copters lifting off in three secs, destination Six-fifteen, A. How many?”

“Two cycles, one Dragoon on the north side of Casper’s Pass, approximate pass near twenty-four, R.” She called out the road number she suspected the Dragoon would use to intercept them. “Cycles carrying automatic fire on board,, Dragoon packing launchers.”

“Get in range, you jackal-assed bastards.” Braden was yelling as he fired, his voice feral, enraged.

“Copter’s ETA to intercept three minutes,” Lance yelled, the sound of his Raider whining through the link assuring her he was moving fast toward them. “I’m five minutes from your intercept point, copter B moving in ahead of me. Don’t shoot the friendlies, God dammit.”

“Not me, cuz,” she yelled back, twisting the wheel as the hollow twang of bullets pelting close to the vulnerable outside security port warned her that they weren’t playing with dummies. “Get these bastards off my back. They know my weakness here, Lance.”

“Moving in, Megan. We’re moving in. Copter B is closing in fast,” John Briggins, the department’s best pilot, reported in.

“Right!” Braden screamed out the new direction.

Megan threw the wheel to the right, cursing as the Raider jolted, slamming forward from the blast of the minirocket that exploded too damned close.

“Rocket fire. We have fire. Cycles equipped with short-range rockets, look out for the dust.”

She twisted the wheel, holding down the gas as she and the Raider bounced from the sharp decline to flat terrain.

“Prepare for acceleration.” She hit the button, praying for just a little more. Just enough speed to clear them from the short-range rockets.

“Head for pass two-zero-four,” Briggins ordered briskly through the link. “We’re seconds away. Hang on.”

“Fuckers. Sons of bitches.” Braden was cursing furiously as he sprayed gunfire from the back window. “Those cycles have security shields, Meg. Punch the gas. Punch the gas.”

“Gas out,” she yelled back. The accelerator was dead.

“Lay that foot to the fucking floor. We have one closing in, prepare for fire… Right. Right.”

She flipped the wheel, curses raging as she felt the rocket fire. Too close. Too fucking close.

“Hang on…” The rocket cleared the vehicle, striking to the side, the resulting explosion throwing the Raider through the air, flipping it, then throwing it back to earth with a bone-jarring force that had Megan seeing stars.

Impact protocol kicked in, the padded levers that suddenly extended from the seats taking the force of the blow and holding them in their seats. But nothing could compensate for the violence, or the jolt.

The Raider landed on its side, tires spinning as she heard a roar. Furious, animal rage. The sound echoed in her head as time seemed to slow down, moving with a distant, ethereal quality that had her fighting to breathe.

She searched desperately for the release control to the seats, grunting as the inflated belt and padded grips released her and dumped her against the passenger side of the vehicle.