Trinity: Military War Dog (39 page)

Deep in the Hindu Kush
18 Klicks from Chinese Border

M
ove!”

A weight plowed into her back. Darci pitched forward. Her palms poofed the new fallen snow. Though they’d stuffed her in a heavy jacket, it was several sizes too big and made movement awkward at best.

Gentle hands helped her up.

Though inclined to accept the help, she shoved away. Surprise rippled through her—she’d thought Jianyu had shot him. Thought it was over.

“Hey,” Toque said. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Help by staying out of my way and mind.”

“What in blazes does that mean?”

Shouts collided with their argument. Two of Jianyu’s men pried Toque away from Darci. As they supported her, she eyed Toque. Though not an enemy, the Brits had been notoriously antagonistic and arrogant in their presumptions about Americans. She had no reason to trust him. Considering he’d hidden his identity from her, infiltrated her mission, she had all the facts to hold him in contempt and as an enemy.

Spies didn’t trust other spies. When one lives a life of constant vigilance, it does not lend itself well to relationships. But oh, she’d like to change that. This mission—she didn’t think she’d make it back alive. Not this time. Escaping Jianyu last time had been a miracle. She spent a lot of time in church, thanking God. But she wanted to make it back this time. She had something she wanted to explore. Heath. A relationship.

Jianyu sauntered toward her. Though he had the looks, behind his eyes lay malice. Why hadn’t she seen it before … before it was too late? How had she ever seen anything desirable in him? Stark and startling, the differences between Heath and Jianyu were like winter and spring. One icy cold and brutal. The other warm and inviting.

“Can you walk, or must I shoot you like an injured cow?”

Indignation flared across her chest, but she batted it aside. “Please.” She tightened her mouth. “Do me the favor.”

With a flourish, he whipped out a Type 92 heavy machine gun and aimed it at her.

Darci quaked inside but could not show that he held any power over her. “If you shoot me, you can’t drag me back to throw at your father’s feet.”

A small twitch flickered through his lips.

“That is what you’re doing, isn’t it? Right after you make this rendezvous?”

Raising his chin, he stuffed the weapon in its holster. “Do not try to bleed me for information, Meixiang. I have none after what you did to me in Taipei City.”

“You would do no less in the name of China.”

“I would not have condemned the one I loved to humiliation and dishonor!”

“Don’t be a fool. Of course you would have—you do it now!”

His hand flew, the slap stinging against her cheek.

Darci stumbled back into a steady hold. A face appeared over her shoulder. Toque. Again. She shrugged out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“See?” Jianyu gloated. “She treats even allies as enemies.” He swung his arm toward the front. “March.”

“We don’t have the supplies to make it over the pass.” She needled his confidence, at least she hoped she did. Darci thrust her chin toward the slope of the mountain. “That’s where we’re going, right? Over the pass into China?”

“Move, or I will drag you.”

Darci plodded onward, using the steep incline on her right for support. The cold pouring out of the rock seeped into her fingers. Traveled up her wrist and all the way into her heart. As the sun lay to rest in the embrace of the Hindu Kush, she lost all feeling in her hands. Her toes. Her heart.

“You’re being idiotic,” Toque muttered as they slowed.

“I don’t care what you think.”

“I’m your ally, Darci. Let me help?”

“An ally in what? Death?” She pushed away from him, shoved her hands in the deep pockets of the coat, and burrowed into herself. Focused on staying alive. Getting better wasn’t an option right now. They’d wrapped a stiff bandage around her waist, but she could feel something deeper sinking into her. Maybe it wasn’t the broken ribs that bothered her, but the wound in her soul.

Darci planted one foot in front of the other. That was her only goal. But with each step, her legs grew heavier. Her mind slower. Her heart emptier. Somehow, without her permission, her thoughts drifted to a handsome handler and his energetic war dog. He had strength in a way few men did, but something had buried it beneath layers of self-doubt. Still, she could tell he’d once been a no-holds-barred warrior. The way he’d called her out, been unafraid to challenge her halfhearted attempt to shove him out of her life.

Oh, she’d wanted anything but that. In a whirlwind life of betrayals, deception, distance, and loneliness, a warm inviting wind blew during her time with Heath Daniels. He’d noted her throwing arm, a skill she’d honed and few cared about. It was silly, but he seemed to approve.

“Thought so.”
Those gray eyes of his had caressed her face as he stared down at her after she’d … chased after him. Chased? Since when did Darci Kintz, military intelligence officer,
chase
after anyone except a mark?

Darci, you’ve lost it
.

No, no she hadn’t. There’d just been something about him walking away, thinking she wasn’t interested.

Not that she could pursue a relationship.

Why not?
Being human gave her that right. And she was free.

You’re an operative. United States Government Issue. Property. Owned
.

Did that mean she couldn’t have a life?

Hesitation caught her by surprise. Until now, she would’ve said yes because her moral obligation was to her country.

Darci shook her head. Insanity. Here she sat, thinking about the possibility of a romantic relationship with a man who probably just wanted a casual date. Who said he was looking for more?

Besides, none of that mattered right now, considering Jianyu held the reins on her life and intended to drive her straight into Taipei City.

What if Heath came after her? Came to rescue her?

What? Now you’re a damsel in distress?

“Might want to drag your head out of those clouds and pay attention.”

Darci scowled at Toque.

“Something’s happening.”

Elbowing past him, she regained her bearings. Unfortunately, he had a point. They’d slowed, and Jianyu now stood with another man at the crest of a hill, radio held near his ear.

Radio? Up here?

Dread swiped through her.

A radio meant two things: He had contact with someone in the area.

And that meant his allies were within range.

A chorus of cheers shot up from the others.

“What is it?” Toque asked.

Darci urged herself forward, and when she reached the edge, a wide valley swept out below them. Several small, dark plumes snaked up across the bed of white. A village. Small but inhabited.

What haunted her was not the half dozen huts huddled against the storm. Nor the smoke rising from offset roofs, but the disturbed snow leading into the village. Tire tracks. Large, wide tire tracks that rushed right up to a gathering of trucks.

Russian military.

        Twenty-Nine          

Deep in the Hindu Kush
25 Klicks from Chinese Border

H
eath froze as he stared at the blackened rubble that two seconds ago had been an opening. Indecision gripped him tight. Should he dig his way through or …?

He looked to his left and killed his torch. Was that …? He squinted and waited for his eyes to adjust. Was he seeing things? Pulling himself off the wall, he heard shouts muffled by the avalanche of rock and debris from behind. Ahead the darkness seemed to surrender its power to a light source.

Heath bathed the tunnel in light. Two eyes glowed back at him. “Trinity, seek.” The eyes vanished, and he knew she’d looked down the far length of the tunnel. Her claws scritched over the rocks. Heath moved fast and with as much stealth as he could muster, deeper into the belly of the mountain. He’d heard about these tunnels, as vast as the blades of grass and rock that peppered the terrain. Taliban had hidden themselves, hidden high-value targets effectively. Too effectively.

Ahead, darkness lost its power. Heath turned off the lamp as he rounded another corner. Light stretched into the tunnel and embraced him. His pulse thrummed at the sight of the opening. Silhouetted by the light, Trinity stood at the mouth.

“Trinity, heel,” Heath whispered.

With a flick of her ears, she turned and trotted back to him.

Inching closer, he drew up his weapon. Pressed himself against one side, unwilling to become a block of swiss cheese, compliments of the Taliban. Or any other well-armed, terrorist-minded Afghan.

Heath peered out, breathing a little easier when only a strong wind and a stomped path met him. Easing out, he scanned left, then right down the scope. Footprints matched his theory that this path had been traveled recently. Dark spots pulled him to a knee. Blood.

“Daniels,” came an echo-laden call.

Heath shifted and glanced back to the tunnel. “Here. Just around the corner. It’s clear.” Once more, he scanned the area. No more than four feet wide, the path disappeared in a northeasterly direction, and if he missed that path, the valley floor would be a jagged, painful hundred-foot drop to another swirl of paths ringing a lower, rocky peak.