Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Jenny’s lips felt soft and warm as they pressed against Rick’s cheek. He sighed turning his head until he could kiss her full on the mouth. Her tongue pressed against his then ran its way across his face leaving a wet trail. “What the hell?”
His eyes darted open as Axe’s whiskers tickled his nostrils. The kiss had been a dream. All except the part with the tongue. He shoved the dog away. “Thanks, bud.”
He remembered he was lying next to Jenny and gently eased himself away so he could wipe his face and check his watch. It was a little after five in the morning.
“Good morning,” said Jenny as she sat up.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Surprisingly.” She gathered up the bedding, emptied out the leaves and stuffed it back into her pack.
Rick rose and checked the traps they’d built the night before. Everything was still intact. He picked up the shotgun and rifle then shouldered his backpack. “You ready for this?”
Jenny handed her pistol to him and checked her shotgun. “Let’s do it.”
They followed Axe through the woods until they reached the edge of the drug plantation. The sun was rising casting a soft glow across the crop.
“You sure about this?” he asked. “I can do it alone.”
She turned and placed a hand on the side of his face. Leaning in she kissed him softly.
For a moment Rick was somewhere other than the drug plantation. The location was irrelevant, all that existed was the taste and feel of her lips and mouth.
“We’re a team now,” she said when they parted. “Now, let’s rescue your friends.”
He grinned. “Fuck yeah.”
She kissed him again. “Get into position.”
Rick left her at the edge of the plantation and made his way between the rows of waxen green plants. He felt elated, partially because of the pending action, but mostly because Jenny liked him. He felt like a teenager giddy with first love as he stalked through the marijuana crop. Pausing he exhaled and focused. This wasn’t about him. This was about freeing Mike and the boys and then exacting a little revenge on the criminals holding them.
* * *
Harold and Ed led the hunting party. Hank, without his dog, and Carl, with his arm bandaged, had been relegated to supporting roles. The four men left the cabin at first light armed to the teeth with shotguns, pistols and two AR-15 assault rifles. Ed had a walkie-talkie attached to his belt.
“We’ll skirt the plantation,” said Ed as they paused at the edge of the clearing. “Harold can track a field mouse through a parking lot. Shouldn’t take us long to pick up their trail and run them down.”
“What if they legged it out of the park?” asked Hank.
“Then our buddies would have picked them up. Damn, do you two just play stupid or are you actually thick as shit,” snapped Ed.
Harold stood peering into the forest as his partner ripped into the other men. “Guys, I think I see something.” He pointed through the bushes.
Ed raised his AR-15 and peered through the scope. In the soft morning light he spotted something fluttering in the breeze. “This way.” He gestured for the others to follow.
The four men moved swiftly into the thick undergrowth that bordered the camouflaged plantation. Harold took the lead, scanning the soft ground for footprints.
He found a food wrapper stuck in the branches of a bush. Plucking it free he rolled the plastic between his fingers and sniffed it. “This is new.” He dropped to a knee and examined the ground. A trail of boot marks led into the forest. “They went this way.”
The path their prey had taken became even clearer to the tracker as they moved deeper into the woods. His experienced eye was drawn to broken twigs, scuff marks in the leaves and indentations in the soft soil.
Ed was the first to spot their quarry. “Down there,” he whispered, gesturing through a gap in the trees. A figure was walking slowly away from them. It disappeared into a thick patch of bushes.
Weapons held ready they gave chase, sliding through the leaf litter that covered the steep slope.
Ed spotted their target again, long brown hair and a feminine build revealing it was the park ranger. She turned, saw them and started running.
A weapon fired alongside his ear and a bullet blew a chunk out of a tree.
“What the fuck!” Ed screamed at Hank who held the smoking rifle. “It’s just the girl. If we bring her in alive Carter might let us have some fun with her.”
Harold pushed ahead, sprinting through the scrub like a dog on the scent of a rabbit. Ed wasn’t far behind his eyes peeled for any sign of the SEAL or the dog.
“She’s on her own,” hollered his partner.
They covered a hundred yards through thick undergrowth, closing the gap between them and the girl. She wore a backpack, but as far as Ed could see she was unarmed. He raised his AR-15 in the air and fired.
Terrified the girl slipped, fell to the ground and clambered back to her feet.
“Hold it right there sweetheart!” yelled Ed.
She was a dozen feet in front of them when she stopped and turned. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Ed eyeballed the empty holster on her belt as he came up alongside Harold, who had her covered with his shotgun. “Where’s your SEAL buddy?”
Hank and Carl caught up, skidding to a halt behind them.
“He went for help,” she managed through her tears.
The four men stood in a semi-circle not more than ten feet from their quarry. Like a pack of hyenas confronting a lioness they tentatively edged forward. Ed’s eyes darted from side to side as he searched for any sign of the SEAL or the dog.
The ranger swayed slightly, reached out and grasped a tree.
Hank lowered his weapon. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”
She pulled at something and suddenly a rope snaked through the leaves alongside them. Ed frowned as his eyes followed it. Then a noise behind him caught his attention. He turned at the same time as the others.
“Fuck,” was all he managed as a three hundred pound log swung down toward them. It hit Carl and Hank with a sickening crunch as he dove sideways. The two men and log slammed into Harold, knocking him off his feet. It caught Ed a glancing blow sending him sprawling, his rifle flung from his hands.
He hit the ground with a thud, pain shooting up from a bruised thigh. He rolled over to see the park ranger standing over the crumpled heap of the other three men with a pump action shotgun in her shoulder.
“You fucking whore,” he said as he reached for his rifle.
A savage growl filled the air and he froze. He found himself staring directly into the bared fangs of a mean looking dog.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” said the ranger. “That’s a trained attack dog. One word from me and he’ll tear out your throat.” She tossed something into his lap.
He glanced at the roll of tape and then at the men lying under the suspended log. Hank and Carl were out cold. Harold stared silently into the barrel of her shotgun.
She flashed him a smile. “Now, how about you crawl over here real slowly and tape up your buddies.”
“How about you go to hell.”
The dog let out a loud bark and another savage growl.
“Pardon me?”
Ed swallowed, picked up the tape and slid slowly across to the others. The dog followed him its eyes locked on his throat.
Behind him in the leaves, his radio hissed. “Ed, what the hell’s going on down there?” demanded Carter.