Chapter 34
“ H ow on earth did Dulcie carry two little girls, a mama goat, and her two kids?” Callie asked, not bothering to suppress a soft chuckle.
She and Gabriel were back in their cabin, once again lying on the big bed, facing each other, telling stories.
Well, Gabriel was telling stories. His were much more interesting—and fun—than the ones that went on inside her head if he didn’t distract her.
“He has three younger sisters. He’s a sucker for little girls.
The second they told him they couldn’t leave their goat and the kids behind, he made it happen,” Gabriel answered, his voice a low rumble in the dark.
With the moonlight streaming in through the open curtain, she could see the general features of his face but not the details.
No doubt his eyes were twinkling at the memory, though.
“If you want specifics, he draped the goat around his shoulders, handed one of the kids to each girl, then picked the girls up,” he added.
“And they made it?”
“Would I tell you a bedtime story with a bad ending?”
No, he wouldn’t. When he didn’t continue, though, she realized he wanted her to say it. “No, you wouldn’t.” She felt, more than saw, him smile, and a terrifying kind of hopefulness rolled through her.
“We got out of the village, the whole team and the family of twelve our targets had been holding hostage?—”
“And the goats.”
“And the goats. Dulcie still gets letters from the father—he was a professor before the conflict broke out. Now that things have, well, not settled, but calmed down, he’s back to teaching.
There’s only one university and he didn’t want to move his family back to that city—bad memories—so he teaches at a local college.
Not a US-type ‘college,’ but the last two years of schooling before the students go to university.
The girls are grown now. One is married to a doctor and is a teacher herself and the other is at university. ”
“That’s a good story.”
“It is. They don’t all have such good endings, but I like that one.”
She hesitated. “How bad was it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He didn’t answer right away. She remained silent, giving him the space to choose what, if anything, to tell her.
“It’s not like the movies. Or even most of the books.
Don’t get me wrong, there were some shitty days.
And some days, beyond shitty. I lost four friends in the time I served.
And one more in a stupid training accident.
I saw a lot. A lot of things I could never have imagined, even if someone told me to imagine the worst of the worst. But we had a lot of training time, too.
And time training others—other newer teams, ally teams, that sort of thing.
That was my favorite part. I knew I wasn’t a lifer, so training the younger teams, or the teams who didn’t have access to the programs we did in the US, felt like a way to give back that was different.
Different from what most people think when they think about serving our country.
Maybe it wasn’t, since we all ended up as cogs in the war machine.
But I liked seeing those guys—and it was all guys—grow their skills and confidence. ”
“Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher now that you’re out?” she asked.
He inhaled, as if to answer, then startled her when he popped up on his elbow. “What the hell?” he mumbled, followed immediately by “Oh fuck.”
Her chest seized as she turned to see what he spotted, but strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as he spun their bodies.
To her everlasting chagrin, she let out a yelp of surprise as they kept rolling. The sheets twisted in their legs, her forehead connected with Gabriel’s collarbone, and still they kept rolling until she dangled off the edge of his side of the bed.
“Gabe—”
A familiar thud followed immediately by the shattering of glass cut her off.
“Fuck,” he muttered again, then twisted even more. They fell, spinning so that she landed on top of Gabriel.
Behind the protection of the platform bed, they stilled, listening for any clues as to what their attacker might do next. Her hands rested on his chest, and like hers, his heart beat out a rapid tattoo.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.
She nodded. “You?”
“Let’s unwind from these blankets. I don’t much like the idea of being shot at again while wrapped up like a mummy.”
It didn’t escape her that he didn’t answer, but rather than spend time arguing or asking again, she joined him in unraveling their cotton bondage.
The patio remained quiet as they untangled themselves.
No more shots, no shuffling of feet, just silence.
Keeping their heads below the mattress, Gabriel reached over and slid the drawer of his bedside table open.
He reached in and when he pulled his hand back out, he held a gun.
They’d each packed their weapons, but she’d thought his, like hers, was in a safe in the closet.
She glanced at the clock as he repositioned himself beside her. Less than a minute since she’d asked him if he’d ever thought of being a teacher. A nice reminder—one she could have done without—about how quickly circumstances could change.
“Someone came over the ledge,” he said.
“The little drop-off about forty feet from the end of our patio?”
He nodded. “We haven’t heard anything since that shot. I’m going to have a look.”
She wasn’t about to let him have all the fun. As he positioned himself to peek over the top of the mattress, she rolled to the side and poked her head around the corner.
“You see anything?” he asked.
“Nothing. We need to get out there. We need to go after him.”
She sensed his hesitation but ignored it. Rising to her knees, then onto the balls of her feet, she launched into four long strides, taking her to the closet. Three seconds later, he joined her.
“The ground’s uneven right outside our patio,” he said as they started digging for their clothes.
“A head and torso popped up and caught my attention. Then he rose and started directly for us.” He turned to tug on a pair of sweats.
She didn’t waste time arguing with herself about whether she should snag a quick look at his backside as he bent over, and her gaze slid over him as she pulled on a pair of leggings.
Her heart stuttered at what she saw, and she dropped to the ground. “You were hit!” She wrapped her hands around his calf, stopping his movements. Blood covered his leg and halfway up his calf, right in the meatiest part of the muscle, a dark gash marred his skin.
“It’s a scratch, Callie,” he said, twisting his torso to look down at her.
“It’s more than a scratch, Gabe,” she shot back, debating whether he’d need stitches.
His hand came down and wrapped under her upper arm. Gently, he pulled her up, using his other hand to bring his sweats up at the same time.
“I promise you,” he said when she stood in front of him, eye to eye.
“It’s not serious. I’m not saying that to be macho or whatever, but I’ve been shot and nicked enough times to know the difference.
It burns like an inferno. I will get it looked at because it might need stitches.
It definitely needs a professional clean.
But right now, we need to focus on the shooter. ”
She took a deep breath, then another, then nodded. His eyes softened as they held hers, but a heartbeat later, he let her go and grabbed a sweatshirt.
“I guess he wasn’t out for a midnight run,” she said, pulling on a long-sleeved athletic shirt. Gabriel responded with a snort.
“It looked as if he came from the north and was heading south,” he said. “He glanced that way before he started walking toward our cabin.”
“So we head south?” she asked, reaching for the gun safe that held her weapon.
“Sound carries in this part of the world. Let’s see if we hear anything. But if we don’t, that would be my bet for which direction to go.”
“What’s south of here?” she asked, pulling out her weapon and doing a quick safety check.
“Two more cabins, but if they keep going, they’ll meet the road,” he said.
“Which winds back to the resort,” she said, sliding her gun into the slim pocket of her legging. “Or into the canyons.”
“Where are they going? We’re in the desert. They might stay hidden for a while, but…”
“The road is too visible. If they head to canyons and they’re familiar with the area, someone could stay hidden for a long time,” Callie replied.
“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.” He arched an eyebrow at her as he tugged on his sneakers.
“Fine, we’re not,” she conceded. Their shooter had used a suppressor, not something an amateur would normally have access to or care about.
Whoever had come after them had a strategy.
And this was no random attack. “What are they planning? Are they after just us, or?—”
“Whose cabins are past ours?” he asked as they moved to the door. Talk would carry across the open desert, so they had mere seconds to plan before leaving the safety of their cabin.
“The Horvats are right next to us,” she replied. “Oh shit.”
He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at her.
“Joe is in the second.”
They were out the front door, running to his cabin seconds later.
They had no reason to believe that Joe would also be a target, but she knew, as did Gabriel, that he was.
And that it was all tied to his father. They pushed all the questions aside, though, as they raced toward his cabin, the last in the row.
They were forty feet away when a familiar muffled thwump filled the quiet night. This time, a muted grunt, not the sound of breaking glass, followed.
“He’s in the back,” Callie said as Gabriel veered off the paved path and onto the manicured desertscape.
“Fucking suppressor,” Gabriel said, anger lacing his tone. Whoever shot at Joe—at them—meant business.
They reached Joe’s cabin and, as silently as possible, they put their backs to the side wall. Inching their way toward the far end, they paused at the corner. Once they turned, they’d be looking right into Joe’s semi-enclosed patio area.
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at her. She gave him a sharp nod. Without hesitation, he rounded the corner, his weapon down, but his finger on the trigger. She covered him, her eyes scanning the vast open area behind them.
“Fuck,” Gabriel said.
She turned, catching a glimpse of the youngest Nolan lying on a chaise longue, his right hand resting on his chest. But movement to the south caught her attention. A figure gliding swiftly through the dark.
“Stay with Joe,” she said. Then, without another word, she took off toward the canyons.