Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Camp Rilea, Warrenton, Oregon…
Sloane Hart slid into the driver’s seat of her nondescript, government-issue sedan, the fatigue of the past two months finally lifting off her shoulders.
Her current mission — a ‘need-to-know’ data transfer with an embedded DIA contact — marking the end of her joint task force assignment, and the start of a couple of overdue days off.
She blew out a slow breath as she let her head fall against the seat rest. She was scheduled to head south, make her way to Raven’s Cliff, Oregon’s idea of a sleepy little coastal town in the heart of the Pacific Northwest. Nothing but relaxation and fog-covered scenery on the agenda.
Two days with Nick.
A shiver wove down her spine.
She hadn’t really seen him in person since she’d walked out of his apartment that night after Prague — the one where she’d all but admitted she’d fallen ridiculously in love with him — and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.
They’d talked, occasionally chatted over video.
Not as often as she’d hoped, but between her job and his — the chasm of unspoken words between them — it had been awkward at best. And she couldn’t quite crush the thought that she’d missed her chance.
That by taking her suggestion and saving himself, he’d left her behind.
She shook her head, reached over and grabbed her personal cell out of the glovebox. The screen winked on, the map to Nick’s office launching as soon as she opened it. What she’d been staring at since he’d asked her to drop by if she had time.
A chance to reconnect, he’d said.
She just wasn’t sure if it was the start of something new or the end of what they’d had.
Her cell buzzed, a text flashing on the screen a moment later. She glanced over as she shoved the key in the ignition, snapping her gaze back at the single word staring up at her from the screen.
ECHO.
She blinked, looked again, the codename glaring up at her. In all the years since they’d initiated the protocol, she’d never imagined she’d actually see the word stamped across her phone. That Nick would willingly send it. Not when she’d suspected he’d had a subconscious death wish. Seeing it now…
It meant he wasn’t just calling for help.
He needed a lifeline. And he was out of options.
She hit the text, activated the decryption algorithm on the embedded packet — dissolved the message into a digital grid, showing his location in the coastal hills north of Raven’s Cliff, what looked like unforgiving terrain — timestamp current.
A tap, and the location hit her GPS, had the fastest route outlined as she shoved the car into reverse, peeled out.
Smoke billowed up from the tires, burnt rubber mixing with the suggestion of rain, as she spun the wheel, hit the gas.
She managed a quick reply as she raced toward the main road, instructing Nick to hold tight — not die on her — that she was on her way.
The guy at the gate gave her an arched brow as she slowed enough to follow protocol before jumping ahead, the scenery passing in a disjointed blur.
She gauged her distance, dumped anything the CIA could use to track her into a Faraday bag she kept in her kit, then hit Bodie’s number. She’d only talked to the guy a handful of times, but if Nick had sent out an SOS, Bodie would have the most intel.
He answered on the second ring, voice rough, clipped, a siren echoing in the background. “Sloane? I assume Nick sent you some kind of cryptic message?”
She snorted. “More like a damn plea. What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t have much more than you. Just a short text that their consultation got hit, he’d been separated, wounded, and was going dark.”
Wounded.
The word hit her gut like a hammer. She coughed, forced down the initial punch of panic, running through the options in her head.
He continued, the words cutting in and out. “I’ve tried to reach Buck and Dalton, but someone’s jamming their end. I’m headed to the lodge now, but with a possible civilian in the mix, and showing up as a deputy, I need to verify their situation, first.”
“Understood. When was their meeting?”
“Nearly an hour ago.”
“What about Raven’s Watch?”
“Already been dispatched, but they’re on a call — van hanging off the side of a cliff. They’ll reposition as soon as they’re free.”
“ETA?”
Bodie sighed. “Forty minutes.”
Which was about thirty more than he probably had.
“I’m on my way. I can reach him in under fifteen.”
It wasn’t a lie. Ambitious definitely, but with Nick’s life on the line, she’d push the boundaries.
“Sloane. I know you’re farther out than that.”
“You let me worry about how I manage time. Just get whoever’s free headed that way. The fact he activated our failsafe…”
“Understood. I’ll check in as soon as I hear anything just… Watch your damn six. Something’s seriously off.”
Sloane mumbled a quick, “Ya, think?” then hung up, hitting Avery’s number next.
Her best friend, Special Agent Avery Kaine, picked up immediately. “Hey, you decide to ditch Nick and hang with me instead? Because I approve of that audible.”
“Nick’s in trouble. He activated the ECHO protocol.”
Avery’s voice changed instantly. “What do you need?”
“I need you to ghost anything with Raven’s Security tags as well as my sedan.
I’ll send you a photo of the registration once I’m off.
I can’t afford to have State Police caught in the middle when I have no idea what I’m up against. If this is a new issue or tied to the CIA.
Bodie’s already dealing with the deputy side of things — has our old FBI colleague, Sheriff Greer Hudson, in the loop.
But she knows, better than anyone, not to push anything with Nick.
That this could have immense consequences. ”
Tapping echoed through the phone, Avery’s sigh heavier than usual. “I’ve already got BOLOs out on Nick’s truck, as well as Bodie’s, but they came in an hour ago.”
“Which means it was called in right before the attack was launched.”
“An ambush?”
“Sounds like it. Regardless, I’ll bet my best laptop this is CIA related.”
“I’ll bury everything. Introduce a glitch if I need to. I can’t buy you too much time, but I can give you an hour or two.”
“If I haven’t grabbed Nick by then…”
She didn’t elaborate. Didn’t need to. Avery knew the score.
A chair scraped back. “I’m heading your way.”
“Avery, you don’t…”
“Shut up and accept my help. Because I know damn well, you’d be the first to drop everything if our positions were reversed.”
“Thanks. Call Bodie when you get close. He’ll have the most up-to-date intel. I’ll share my location, just in case, but…”
“Don’t rush in, without looking first. I know the drill.” Avery breathed into the phone. “I know you’re a pro, but… You did go dark, right?”
“First thing I did. I suppose the motor pool could track the car, but I’ll ditch it if necessary. And I am… a pro.”
“But this is Nick. We both know you tend to play it a bit loose where he’s concerned.”
“Loose’ll get him killed, assuming…”
She pushed the thought aside. She wouldn’t jinx it. Put it out for the universe to twist into reality.
Avery sighed as a door chimed. “Nick’s like a damn cockroach. Guy can’t be killed. But check his beacon.”
Sloane glanced at the location. “Bastard hasn’t moved for nearly six minutes. That’s not good.”
“I assume you told him to hold his position?”
“You know I did, but…”
This wasn’t like him. Waiting. And Sloane knew it either meant he was pinned down or bleeding out.
Avery’s SUV growled in the distance. “Maybe he just knows how pissed you’ll be if he disobeys an order.” Avery paused, hesitation evident in her tone. “You got enough supplies?”
“Only what was in my go-bag.”
Which irked the hell out of her. If she’d been in Langley she’d have her carbine, an assortment of frags, some high-tech devices that could cripple enemy forces.
Instead, she had her Glock, a few extra mags, a decently stocked med kit, a multitool, and her ruggedized tablet.
Hardly enough to take on the forces she suspected Nick had encountered.
“Shit. Just… No heroics. This is simply a snatch and grab. We’ll deal with whoever’s targeting Nick once you’re both clear.”
“Nick’s the one with the hero complex.”
Avery snorted. “He’s not the only one. Stay safe.”
Avery ended the call, the eerie silence settling hard in Sloan’s chest. She glanced at the dot again. He still hadn’t moved, and that singular thought sluiced ice through her veins.
She forced in a soothing breath, reminding herself lethal was a mindset, not a weapon — that she’d faced worse with less and still survived — as she pushed a bit harder, the needle closing in on ninety. Of course, she’d always had Nick to watch her six. Going it alone…
She rounded a corner, passed a merge lane, when a black Suburban shifted in behind her, heavily tinted windows, no front plate.
It sped up, then matched her speed, following her when she veered onto a winding two-lane heading into the forest. The driver didn’t rush her, staying a few car lengths back as she took the turns a bit fast, left some rubber on the pavement.
The dot on the map drew nearer, the time edging close to the limit when a second SUV pulled out from a side road up ahead, tried to box her in.
She didn’t flinch, just aimed for a gravel pullout just ahead of the other vehicle, yanked up on the parking brake as she spun the wheel, executed a dynamic one eighty.
The sedan shuddered, spitting out rocks and dust as she punched the gas, headed back toward the Suburban. A deadly game of chicken she had no intention of losing. The other driver balked, turned to avoid a collision, then bottomed out in a shallow ditch off the right side.
The other SUV peeled out, picked up the chase as she wove back the other way, took another road off to her right. It doubled back, coughed her out farther south on her original path, shadows already covering the pavement.
Too long.
And Nick hadn’t moved. Hadn’t replied. Just that dot, pulsing on her screen.
She couldn’t lose him. Not like this.
The thought played in the back of her head as she rounded a blind corner, stared at the massive logging truck parked diagonally across the road, completely blocking it. A couple men in tactical gear standing next to the bumper.
No time to think, she just hit the brakes, then spun the vehicle, skidding the sedan sideways, looking as if she planned on scooting beneath the trailer.
Gravel shot out from beneath the tires, a choking dust cloud swirling to life.
She unclipped her belt, grabbed her supplies, then dove out before the car had even rocked to a halt, slipping beneath the trailer.
Stones bit into her skin as she rolled to her feet, gun already tracking the first guy.
In that half-second of hesitation — the men all waiting for the dust to settle, her to pop out of the car — she fired, caught the first bastard in the thigh, then his buddy center mass.
She didn’t waste any ammo, each shot a surgical answer to a threat.
The men dropped, voices shouting behind her as more assholes poured out of that trailing SUV — a spray of rounds bouncing off the rig, chewing up the rows of logs piled in the trailer.
She took a graze across one biceps — a hot stinging line of pain as she circled to the rear, climbed onto the stacked wood.
The men moved in close, dust still swirling in the air, the setting sun casting shadows across the road.
She waited for two of the men to sweep past, gazes focused on the other side before slipping down, moving in close, ghosting through their ranks the way she’d watch Nick do a thousand times.
The last guy dropped, groans mixing with the echoed reports when tires screeched along the road, a second wave of vehicles closing in.
Blood stained her jacket, sweat and dirt lining her brow.
She checked her mag, intimately aware of how many bullets she’d fired but needing the simple action to ground her.
Memories of Prague danced in her head. A repeat of being outmanned, outgunned. And just like that night, she couldn’t win against a sustained firefight here, either. Better to continue on foot — get lost in the trees.
Except where Nick couldn’t wait for her to drag her ass several miles through the dense undergrowth. Bleed out what precious few moments he likely had left. She chanced a quick glance at her cell, her breath stalling, a punch of fear hitting her full force in the gut.
Nothing.
No pulsing dot, no coordinates, just an empty map openly mocking her.
She scrolled, checked if he’d moved.
Still nothing.
Her chest heaved, one glaring truth screaming in her head. Either he’d somehow smashed his burner or…
No.
She wouldn’t accept it. Wouldn’t entertain the thought that she was already too late.
That the men hunting him had gotten to him, first. That she’d let him down.
Not when he’d taken all those hits in Prague to save her.
While she didn’t doubt her assessment had been right — that he was headed for an early grave — she couldn’t deny that she’d been part of the problem.
The reason he pushed the boundaries until they barely remained.
That he’d been a breath away from saying he loved her, too.
That got her motivated. Burned fire through her veins. She’d face any number the men — down every last one if she needed, but she was reclaiming her car — getting to Nick regardless of what the damn map said.
She waited for a lull, working through how she’d go vertical — take out a few front runners until enough shadows darkened the area she could push forward — when a pair of headlights sliced through the dusk, twin beams lighting a swath through the gray.
A dark, heavy-duty pickup barreled down on the men, clipping the SUV’s rear bumper, spinning it into the far ditch with the screech of twisting metal.
The driver jumped the shoulder, landed on a narrow patch of grass and moss bordering the road, tires spinning before they found purchase, lurched the truck forward.
A few rounds popped out of an open window as the vehicle side-stepped the logging truck, trading some paint and the passenger mirror with a lone pine, before it swerved to a halt several feet away from her.
Sloane dropped into a crouch, pistol up, sights trained on the door as she waited to see who, or what, got out.