Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The thick, old-growth forest towered around them as the truck bumped down the narrow logging road, long, spiny branches reaching out from the encroaching evergreens.
Fog wove through the understory, threading around pockets of salal and cloaking the fern-choked underbrush until only the trees pierced the veil.
Sloane sat in the back, alternating her focus between the view out the back window — looking for a suggestion that either the Reaper or another group of mercenaries had tracked them down — and Nick.
Though, her interest in Nick had less to do with the bug out, the bounty, and more to do with last night.
Heat prickled beneath her skin, a warm feeling settling in her gut.
She’d imagined loving Nick a thousand times, but actually touching him — having him looming over her or pounding into her from behind…
He’d blown away any preconceived expectations — replaced them with a benchmark no other man had a hope of ever exceeding.
Which was largely the issue. While he’d claimed he wanted a future — had made it clear this wasn’t a simple one-off — a part of her worried the shine would eventually rub off. That the operative part of him would forever be searching for the next new high.
That, in the end, she wouldn’t measure up.
Nick nudged her foot with his, glancing at Buck and Tierney before shifting closer. “You okay?”
She pushed down the riotous thoughts, the words that didn’t fit the time or the place, offered him a manufactured smile. “Fine. Why?”
“You know you have a tell, right?” He gestured to the corner of her mouth. “It tightens when you’re faking it.” He grinned. “Not a hint of one last night, by the way.”
She swatted her hand across his arm. “You’re an ass.”
“And you’re holding back. What were you thinking because you were staring at me with this odd expression. Like you were happy and sad all at the same time.”
“Nothing.” She huffed when he sat there, arms crossed, gaze fixed on her. “I was just thinking about last night.”
He frowned. “That hopefully explains the happy. Not sure I want to know what made you sad.”
“I wasn’t sad… I’m not sad. I just…”
He sighed, slid closer. “You’re wondering if this is gonna end the way all my other attempts have — which is fair.
I don’t have a great track record when it comes to women.
There’s just one thing you’re not taking into account…
” He reached out and tucked some hair behind her ear. “None of them were you.”
Her breath caught, his words hanging between them like a coin tumbling through the air above a wishing well. She nuzzled into his palm, kissed the heel as the truck shuddered to a halt.
Tierney turned in her seat. “We’re here. Bodie and the others should be arriving any minute. Don’t go wandering off. It’s not safe.”
Buck positioned the truck under a makeshift lean-to, the wood blending in perfectly with the trees. He draped a thermal blanket over the hood to help hide the engine heat, then drew a camo net over the open side once they’d jumped out, making the damn thing disappear.
He moved in beside them, arms crossed, looking over at Tierney as if he wasn’t quite sure she wouldn’t just bolt. “She’s still… working at having people share her space. But this place is secure.”
Nick grunted. “We thought the lighthouse was secure.”
“I hear ya, brother. And it was, we just stayed a bit too long. But, we’re here now, so…”
Nick nodded, his hand hovering over his Sig.
They waited, an uneasy silence settling around them as they all checked the shadows, listening for any hint of movement.
Crunching gravel pierced the quiet a moment before Dalton’s truck appeared beyond the last bend, chassis bumping and grinding as it covered the last section of the dirt road.
Dalton and Bodie jumped out, doors gaping open, the engine still ticking as a fan whirled in the background.
They swept the surrounding area with twin carbines before shifting them behind their backs.
They tossed a similar thermal blanket over the hood, topping the vehicle off with more camo.
Nick and Buck met them halfway, a round of shoulder claps and low conversation marking their reunion. Bodie nodded at something Nick said as another vehicle approached down the same dirt road. Gravel pinging off the undercarriage, mud and stones spraying out from beneath the tires.
Avery stepped out of the nondescript black SUV dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair swept up into a pony, a messenger bag looped over her shoulder.
She shut the door, looking as if she’d spent the past four days running on coffee and spite.
She checked her six, lingering a bit longer than usual before relaxing her shoulders, thanking Dalton when he hid her vehicle with more blankets and camo before she joined everyone else at the gate.
Tierney stepped forward, cutting off any attempt at a greeting. “We should take this inside, in case…” She waved at the path. “Remember to stay on the path unless you want to go home in pieces.”
Bodie looked over at them. “Guess her security measures haven’t changed.”
Sloane stared after the others as they followed Tierney along the path. “She’s serious? She’s got the place wired?”
Nick palmed her back, got her walking. “It’s a whole thing, though, I have a suspicion Buck helped out.”
Tierney led them along the trail as it wove through the forest, finally opening into a small clearing. A cabin sat tucked amidst a few ponderosa pines, moss dotting the metal roof, some high-tech film reflecting off the windows.
She bypassed the main structure, continuing down the side to a smaller building nestled between two towering spruces, the metal walls black against the forest greenery.
An old wooden door barred the way, the entire building looking like nothing more than a shed that would topple with the next strong wind.
Nick sighed. “Guess she’s taking us straight to the war room.”
Sloane blinked. “War room?”
“You’ll see.”
Tierney waved them inside, switched on a light, then moved through the space, checking windows and switches, before finally leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes a bit wild.
Where she’d been distant at the lighthouse, this felt different — a level of paranoia Sloane associated with trauma.
Not that they didn’t all have their share, but Sloane knew a portion of Tierney’s story — guessed at the empty spaces the other woman hadn’t filled in. And it didn’t take a psychologist to see she hadn’t come close to making peace with it.
Buck moved in close, keeping himself between Tierney and the door. An unspoken promise that anyone coming for her would have to go through him.
The room smelled like cedar and gun oil, with a top note of vanilla. Charts covered the walls — coastal metrics mixed with contour maps and logging infrastructure tacked in place. Photos had been pinned to various boards, an image of the lighthouse they’d just escaped from off to one side.
A low hum filled the air, a bank of computers and monitors covering part of the south wall — security Sloan assumed Tierney rarely turned off.
Nick tugged Sloane in tight to his side, kept her close as he addressed his teammates. “I really hope you all have news because we’re quickly running out of options.”
Bodie crossed his arms. “Raven’s Cliff is crawling with mercs. Hell, you can’t throw a rock without hitting one. Greer’s doing her best to run them out of town, but they’re getting restless. Will likely start targeting close contacts, next, in the hopes it’ll draw you both out.”
“Foster and the guys aware of that?”
“They’ve been notified. Are itching to join in the fight, but I’m trying to keep them distanced a bit, seeing as Hill expanded the burn noticed — included everyone at Raven’s Security.”
“Shit.” Nick scrubbed his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Bodie. I never should—”
“Don’t. If you hadn’t been here, you’d be facing this alone, or worse, while on a mission when it would have been easier to have you killed. But the running stops now. I want a way to put Hill in Leavenworth — get my company back.”
Avery stepped forward. “I might have exactly what it takes, though, it’s not going to be easy. In fact, it’s borderline suicidal, but if I remember correctly, your team seems to thrive on that.”
She placed her bag on the table situated in the center of the room, fished out a series of printouts and a lone thumb drive. “I know, it’s old school, but I didn’t trust the networks enough to send it all over the wire. Not with how high up the CIA food chain this goes.”
Nick grabbed one of the pages, held it so Sloane could see the photo, too. “What is this?”
Avery looked up as she raked her hand through her hair. “Everything I’m about to say never leaves this room, or an old friend of mine could lose his job.”
Nick cocked his head to the side. “That goes without saying, Kaine, and we’ve all proven we can keep secrets.”
Avery eyed Sloane as she gestured at Nick. “Are you sure you don’t want to cash in on his bounty, first? Then, stop Hill?”
Sloane smiled. “I’ll keep my options open.”
“Fine.” Avery pushed another sheet toward them. “According to my source, your guy, Kessler, was on a routine USMS transfer when a sniper took out the vehicle. The guy missed Kessler, but two of the three Deputy Marshals didn’t make it out alive.”
Sloane inhaled, staring Avery dead in the eyes. “Oh my god. You called Lachlan Ridge.”
Avery’s eye twitched, her gaze making the rounds, though Sloane didn’t miss how it lingered a bit longer on Dalton.
Sloane blew out a rough breath. “You did. Jesus, Avery, you swore on your brother’s grave you’d never call him, again… Not for anything.”