Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Rain drizzled from the sky. Not hard, just an annoying, steady mist that soaked through clothes, left the vertical scree field a slick, unforgiving mess.
Fog lifted off the rocks as if it had been born there, barely rising more than twenty feet before leveling out, covering everything in a thick, eerie gray mass.
Early dusk painted the hillside in hints of indigo, the shadows washing into the creeping darkness.
Neve scrambled up the sheer face, her vision limited to the wet rock and rotted root-ladders sliding beneath her hands.
Every handhold shifted within her grip, teetering on the side as if waiting for the right moment to succumb to gravity.
Wet lichen covered half the stones, the light green color providing a hint of depth in the surrounding gray as they switchbacked through the boulders, the scent of crushed pine coating the cold, alpine air.
Scout had taken point, her silhouette a dim shadow amidst the mist. Zadie and Wynn followed, keeping pace as Scout inevitably picked the best line as if she saw a route etched along the rocks.
Coulter brought up the rear, an ever-present anchor on Neve’s six.
He moved in perfect sync, his rhythmic breathing like a physical tether behind her, keeping her grounded despite the way his simple presence gnawed at her senses.
Like a low-frequency hum only she heard.
It took her back to their years of missions together. The familiar cadence of his stride. The comforting weight of his massive body behind her, guarding her six. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having him as part of the team until right now.
And she wasn’t sure if she could go back to living without him.
The wind gusted over the exposed ridge, every subtle change swirling a hint of cottonwood and aged leather around her, rearing fleeting memories of their kiss in the hallway.
How his fingers had smoothed over her skin, holding her captive as he’d claimed her mouth.
He’d tasted like coffee and promise, and she’d been reeling ever since.
She gave herself a mental slap. She needed to focus on the mission, on the cold press of the rocks, the way the fog wove across the ridge line. Not on the lingering memory of his hard body pressed against hers, how he’d made her feel safe for the first time since that clusterfuck of a mission.
Scout veered left, cresting a hint of a ledge that wove along the cliffside, bypassed a nasty section of jagged rock. She waited until they’d all clambered onto the narrow path, then headed off, one side skimming the ridge, the sheer drop-off on the other fading in and out of view amidst the fog.
They continued for another hundred meters when the ledge vanished, remnants of it spread across the lower half of the ravine.
Scout peered over the edge, eyeing the drop, before breaking out a length of webbing — knotting it around a hemlock branch.
She added a length of cord, wrapped it around her wrist then took a few running steps, swinging across the opening and landing smoothly on the other side.
Zadie glanced back at Neve, looking as if she wanted to cap Scout in the ass, before copying her approach, nearly tipping over the edge when her momentum didn’t quite reach the other side.
Scout snagged her belt, tugged her the last few inches onto the rock.
Wynn went next, barely giving the dizzying height a second look as she swooped over, swung the line back.
Neve handed it to Coulter, holding it hostage for a moment. “You sure your ribs can take this? We can bypass it. Find another way.”
He looped the cord around his right hand. “Not my dominant side, but I think I can manage.”
He tested the line, grimaced when he twisted to accommodate his massive shoulders, then jumped. No extra steps, no hesitation, just a push and his body flying across the opening. He landed without a sound, his mouth pursed tight, no outward emotion cracking his stone facade.
And she hated that his unyielding resolve impressed the hell out of her. That having him as part of the team felt more than right.
It gave her hope.
Coulter returned the line, barely giving her any space to land as she gripped the cord, slipped over, the rush of dangling above the fog-choked chasm quickening her heart rate. He hooked her arm, holding her close, as he stared into her eyes, the blue in his edging toward more of a slate gray.
He held his ground, wrapped the rope around a boulder. “Your right shoulder looks a bit stiff. Have you been hurt?”
She forced herself to swallow, his gray gaze focused on her. “You know what it’s like to go up against those men. They tend to leave a mark.”
He moved with her, glancing over his shoulder at her teammates for a moment. “You went toe-to-toe with them?”
“We can discuss this later. Mission. Ramsey.”
He twisted, leaning in as she squeezed past. “I know we want Ramsey alive, that he can’t give us Finch if he’s dead, but if I have to choose between him and any of you…” He eased back. “I don’t care how important he is, the bastard won’t see the bullet coming.”
Coulter waved her ahead, returning to his position as anchor, again, staying close enough he could grab her if she slipped. Scout wove through one more patch of slick scree before raising a fist as she crouched beside a large boulder.
Neve closed in, taking up position on Scout’s left, Coulter shouldering in beside her.
Neve peeked over the smoothed edge, staring at the large bowl stretching across the other side — what looked like a graveyard of carbon fiber and scorched foam.
The scent of ozone and burnt electronics cut through the thick air, one shredded wing flapping like a dead bird in the wind.
A heavy layer of fog curled through the wreckage, swallowing some of the debris before spitting it back out as the breeze changed directions. Several figures were spread out amidst the wreckage, picking through the twisted remains, tossing most of the broken pieces back on the ground.
A lone shadow moved into view a hundred meters above them, shoulders back, head held high. “Find that damn case. I’ll start sanitizing the debris.”
Coulter stiffened beside her, his breathing kicking up as he clenched his rifle a bit harder. “Ramsey.”
Neve looked from the guy over to Coulter. While she didn’t doubt Coulter’s assessment, the guy’s face hardly registered through the fog. “Are you sure?”
His left eye twitched, his gaze never swaying from the other man’s silhouette. “No doubts.”
Neve nodded, placing the guy’s head in her crosshairs before she scanned the field, put the other men’s locations into her memory. “I count eight other soldiers. And I bet my ass they’re all enhanced.”
Coulter clocked each of their locations. “We need the high ground. So we have a chance at keeping those others at bay once we grab Ramsey.”
Neve nodded, pointing to the far side. “If you and Scout cut beneath, then up the other side, I can climb higher, be your overwatch. I should be able to drop a few of them once you have Ramsey. Even the odds.” She glanced at one of the men already moving toward the lower part of the field.
“That guy might be a problem, though. I can drop him, but…”
But stealth was their only advantage and even suppressed, the shot would disturb the air, emit a hollow thump the others might pick up on.
Coulter narrowed his eyes, and Neve knew the man was puzzling it out. “I get these guys shake off most wounds like it’s nothing, but a knife between the eyes?”
“They’re not immortal. Heart and head will drop them, like anyone else. I’m sure a good carotid or femoral bleed won’t go unnoticed either. Harder to hit, though, when they react twice as fast as anyone else I’ve ever faced.”
“I only need a second.”
Neve swallowed. This was the Coulter she remembered. Disciplined. Lethal. Not an ounce of uncertainty. He simply noted a problem, then addressed it.
She nudged him. “You got enough knives?”
A hint of a smile.
She placed her eye back against her scope. “I’ll cover. Just be prepared for company if I have to take the shot—”
“Hey, boss?” The guy they’d been talking about bent over, grabbed a charred and dented Pelican case out from beneath a chunk of fuselage. “This it?”
Ramsey appeared at the top again, his face misting in and out of the fog as if it bent to his will. “Good. Now burn it. They can send another batch to test. But I want concrete proof we haven’t left anything of value on the board.”
Coulter fisted one hand. “I don’t know what’s in that case, but if Ramsey wants it destroyed, I’m pretty sure we want it intact.”
Neve held firm as the guy slipped a disc out of his vest. “Bastard’s got a thermite puck. If I take the shot, they’ll all know we’re here. Doubt we can grab it and get Ramsey.”
“Ramsey’s our priority. But we need to move, before—”
“Hello.”
Neve inhaled as she panned toward the side of the debris field. A woman in a light-blue rain jacket stepped out of the forest, picking her way along the boulders. Blonde hair braided at the sides, with a backpack sized for a multi-day trek, she moved with the confident rhythm of a seasoned hiker.
She stopped, gaze scanning the field. “I heard the crash. Made my way over in case you need help—”
Movement.
Streaking across the rocks. Swirling the fog as the man’s wake eddied out behind him.
The same soldier Neve had been watching appeared in front of the woman a heartbeat later, one hand wrapped around her neck, the case still gripped in the other, that puck already dripping out liquid fire.
The hiker inhaled, fingers clawing at the guy’s muscled arm as he hoisted her into the air, tossed her across the rocks.
She hit hard, a sickening thunk shaking up through the scree, as her pack cracked open, shooting gear and clothes across the ground. She didn’t move, everything limp as the creep raised his weapon, pointed it at her.