Chapter 10 #2
He searched the guy, pocketed his cell phone, his handgun, and a sheathed knife, and left him in the bracken before scanning the surroundings again. Aside from the linebacker, who was still moving forward, Asher didn’t see any more enemies. The guy must not have seen Asher take his buddy out.
The thug was getting too close to Cici.
Asher got low and eased toward him, picking his way around bushes and over fallen limbs and tree trunks.
He was about ten feet away when the man turned toward where Pretty Boy should be. He froze. Then scanned his surroundings.
Their eyes met.
The man’s mouth opened to yell.
Asher sprinted forward and barreled into him.
They both went down.
They wrestled for the upper hand, but this guy was huge. And strong, and trained.
Asher aimed for his eyes, but the guy jerked away and kidney-punched him.
Pain momentarily blinded him, but he couldn’t give in to it. He fought hard, punching and kicking, but the guy was made of iron.
Nothing fazed him.
In seconds, Asher was on his back, the linebacker’s meaty fist poised to put Asher’s lights out.
There was a thwack, and the man’s eyes widened. He slid off Asher and landed in the dirt.
Behind him, Cici held a tree limb like a baseball bat. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” Because of her. Holy cow, that could’ve been…fatal for both of them.
He shoved the heavy man off and stood.
The guy was out cold.
“Good hit.” Who knew the prom queen had such a powerful swing?
“Now what?” she asked.
After ridding the thug of his cell phone, ammunition, and guns—he’d carried two—Asher looked around again but didn’t see any more enemies. Either Baldie and the boss were waiting back at the burning barn, or they’d searched in the other direction.
He returned to the boulder for his duffel, then handed Cici one of the handguns. “You know how to use that?”
She checked the magazine for bullets, popped it back into place, and engaged the safety like a pro.
That was a yes.
“Let’s move.” They continued to the south side of the pond, where he tossed both thugs’ cell phones into the marshy water before they continued into the woods.
He prayed they would reach people and cars—houses, a town, a strip mall—and soon. “Don’t slow down, and don’t look back.”
Cici kept pace, barely breathing hard, even though he moved fast. She was in good shape, not just slender but strong. He liked that.
“How are we going to get to the airfield?”
“We aren’t.” They’d been so close to safety, to the end of this mess. “I don’t know how, but they knew where we were going.”
“If we could just—”
“What?” He stopped to face her, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Please, if you have an idea, I’d love to hear it.”
“It’s just, if we made it to the plane…” She blinked up at him.
He didn’t say the obvious, that the problem lay in that small word. If.
If they hadn’t been tracked, they wouldn’t be in this situation, but they had been tracked. And like at the train station the night before, Asher doubted these four were the only ones looking for them.
Likely, more enemies were on the road, ready to ambush them if they got anywhere near Hanscom.
Cici and Asher were moving again when distant sirens told him somebody had reported the fire. He hoped it wouldn’t be hard to put out, that it hadn’t done too much damage.
Why not add arson to the growing list of charges against him?
At least a mile from the burning barn, he slowed to a more comfortable pace. No sense in either one of them falling and getting injured. “We have to get another car.”
Her green eyes glistened with frustration. “We’re driving?” Though she didn’t cry, emotion overflowed in her words.
“I’m doing my best,” he snapped, then felt immediately guilty. Danger wasn’t her life, her world. He felt alive in these situations. Competent and strong.
She was clearly terrified, and for good reason.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I wish we could hitch a luxury ride with your boyfriend, but that’s off the table now.”
“What are you talking about, my boyfriend?”
“Derrick? The guy who owns the jet? Is that not…?” He realized he’d jumped to conclusions. Again. “It belongs to somebody you know, right?”
“Derrick is my cousin. He’s a pilot, owns a charter business.”
“Oh.” Asher’s stupid heart did an equally stupid little jig, as if that were the best news it’d heard all year. “Well, anyway. I wish we could take his plane, I really do.” But they’d been found, again. Obviously, their enemies had known their destination.
Which made no sense, unless…
The answer seemed obvious.
There had to be a leak in Forbes’s operation. That was the only option.
Someone working for Forbes was also working for the bad guys.
It ticked Asher off that he had no idea who the enemies were, a fact he needed to remedy ASAP.
He scanned between the trees for buildings or the glint of a vehicle. “We’ll locate another car.”
“Steal, you mean.” She didn’t bother to hide the censure in her voice.
“Open to suggestions, Cici. So far, all you’ve offered is criticism.”
“I didn’t mean… I’m just saying…”
He gave her a few moments to finish her thought, but apparently, she had no decent defense.
Though her purse had a strap, which she’d slung over her shoulder, she clutched the bag in front of her as if afraid it might blow away. “You’re right. You know what you’re doing. Whatever you think.”
That was a nice change. “Just keep up.”
Asher moved on. He needed to unravel this mystery, but first, he had to get them out of this alive. One skill at a time, one mile at a time, until they were free of this mess.
Asher’s boots sank into the squishy earth, the dense canopy overhead blotting out most of the midday sun. The ground was marshy, the air thick with the sounds of birds and insects and frogs, the scents of sweet wildflowers and bitter water.
They’d entered a nature reserve south of a ritzy neighborhood. He’d vetoed cutting through those manicured streets—too many Ring cameras, too many security systems itching to catch a glimpse of a guy in tactical black and a woman toting a purse stuffed with a million-dollar necklace.
Best stay off everybody’s radar until he figured it out.
Cici had been quiet since she’d caught sight of a luxury home and suggested they knock on the back door and ask to use a phone. “We can just tell them we were in an accident, and our phones were broken or something. We can call for an Uber to take us to Hanscom.”
“No.” He’d added a quick, “Sorry, but we can’t go to the airfield, even in a clean car. They’ll find us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You don’t know they won’t. Are you really willing to risk both our lives?”
That had silenced her.
He didn’t trust anybody right now, certainly not strangers in big fancy homes. And besides, where would they wait until help arrived? In the fancy house? How could they trust the fancy-house people not to call the cops, and then what would happen?
An hour passed before she spoke again.
“Asher, we can’t just wander through the woods forever. Unless you’re planning to hike all the way to Maine, we need a plan. When we find another neighborhood, we should knock—”
“We can’t.” He didn’t break stride. “No doors. No people. You’re wanted, Cici, for arson and murder, and I’m on the hook as your accessory. Let’s not forget grand theft auto. And the barn we just burned down—another arson charge. One call to the cops and we’re both in cuffs.”
“Whatever.” A few beats passed. “My feet are soaked.”
God forbid the prom queen got wet feet.
That wasn’t fair. Wet socks scraped against tender skin, and her skin wouldn’t have toughened up the way his had, thanks to all his training, then all his missions. “We’ll get you some dry shoes and socks.”
“How?”
He didn’t know, but it wasn’t an unsolvable problem. A solution would present itself, eventually.
They walked a few yards more before she said, “Let’s rent a car. There’s got to be a place nearby. I’ll pay—”
“No credit cards. They’ll trace you in a heartbeat.”
“You can use yours. They don’t know who you are.” Her tone was sharp, challenging, like she’d caught him in a logic trap.
He ducked under a low branch and held it up for her. “I’m not so sure.” He muttered the words, mostly to himself.
“What?” Her voice pitched up. “How would they?”
They moved away from the swampy land onto firmer ground, now back in a forest thick with underbrush.
“They found us on the train in Springfield, tracked the stolen sedan, and then the SUV. How? It all happened too fast. It was too…precise. Even with serious tech, they can’t be tracking you.
We ditched your cell in Philadelphia. So maybe… ”
He’d powered his cell phone off, but with the right kind of equipment, that wouldn’t make a difference.
Could be that the bad guys were waiting at the next road.
He hated to do it, but he had no choice. He pulled his own cell from his pocket, turned, and threw it back toward the swamp. He was rewarded with a faint splash.
“What are you doing?” Cici stared at the place where the cell phone had disappeared. “How are we going to—?”
“They could be tracking me.”
“How?”
“I don’t know!” He hadn’t meant the exasperated tone and felt a twinge of guilt when she winced and stepped back. “Just…let me think, please.”
“Think faster, because I’m freaking out here.” She dodged a root, her purse thumping against her hip. “Maybe there’s a bus station? There’s got to be one somewhere. Of course, we can’t find it because you just tossed your phone. We’re totally…lost.”
“I’m not lost.” He wasn’t. He knew basically where they were and what direction they were walking. They’d hit civilization soon. When she said nothing, he glanced back and caught her swiping a finger beneath her eye. Was she crying?
“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Her words were squeaky and barely audible.
They were a couple of miles from town. More importantly, when he’d been in the military, none of his teammates had cried.