Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
E ven with the headset on, the rhythmic thump of the helicopter rotors echoed in her ears.
Jenna scanned the road below for Olson and the blue Toyota.
Nothing.
Where the hell was he? There weren’t loads of roads around this area of Alaska. Frustration cut through her. He could be hiding somewhere. He could have hidden the SUV and was laying low.
She looked over at Owen and touched her headset. “Any word from the police or state troopers on the ground? Has anyone spotted Olson’s vehicle?”
Owen shook his head.
Dammit . She ground her teeth together.
Fingers touched hers. Park was sitting still and quiet beside her, his eyes closed.
“How can you be so calm?” she asked.
His eyes opened and he raised a brow. “Me looking out the window won’t help find him. You have people searching for him. It’s best I conserve my energy for when we do find him.”
She blew out a breath. “I can’t rest.”
“Just takes practice. I used to be able to take a nap in the middle of a warzone when needed.”
“I think he’s holed up,” she said. “He’s found a barn or some dense trees…”
Park shook his head.
She swiveled to face him. “Why not?”
“It’s too hot. He knows you’ll keep hunting him. His face is everywhere, and he wants out of Alaska.”
She chewed on her lip and looked down at the road again. “Where will he go? Anchorage?”
Park shook his head. “Anchorage is too busy. He wouldn’t be able to get through the airport.”
She nodded slowly. “So, a small airport. Or?—”
“A boat,” Park said. “There are lots of commercial fishing towns along the coast.”
“And plenty of boats willing to take on an able-bodied man who’s fit, no questions asked.” She waved a hand. “Owen, I need a map. We need to see the main fishing towns between Drifter Lake and the coast.”
A moment later, Owen unfolded a map. With a marker, he started circling the towns along the coastline.
There were more than she’d hoped.
Park pressed a hand to her knee and squeezed. “We’re going to get him.”
They would. They wouldn’t stop until they did. And she knew Park—with his steady presence and support—would be with her all the way.
But what if Olson killed again before they did? He was on the run, but the urge could get too much for him to ignore.
No . There would be no more death.
The helicopter continued to follow the main road from Drifter Lake heading toward the coast. There was no sign of Olson.
They stopped to refuel, and every second felt like a damn week. Once they were back in the air, Jenna prayed that they’d find him.
Owen tapped her shoulder, excitement on his face.
“A man had his Subaru Outback stolen near Copperville. It’s on the road to the coast. Troopers found the 4Runner stashed nearby.”
She snatched the map and ran her finger along until she found Copperville. “He switched cars. Get the troopers looking for the Subaru.”
“I can do one better than that.” Owen smiled. “The Outback was spotted in Valdez.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. She looked at the map. Valdez was one of the fishing towns they’d circled.
“Valdez is a fishing port.” Owen looked at his phone. “Both commercial and sport fishing. Plus, freight moves through the port into Alaska. The town is located on a deep fjord in the Prince William Sound, and surrounded by mountains and glaciers.” He flicked the screen. “The town sits at the southern end of the Trans-Alaska Oil Pipeline. There’s a dedicated oil terminal across the bay from the town where the oil is loaded onto ships.”
“This is where the Exxon Valdez disaster happened, right?” Park said.
Owen lifted his chin. “The ship was loaded in Valdez. It ran aground and spilled its cargo in Prince William Sound, and although hundreds of miles of coastline was affected, Valdez itself wasn’t.”
“Tell the pilot to get us there fast.” Jenna looked up at Park. “We’re closing in. We are not letting him get away.”
“Marshal Sheridan, I’d never bet against you.” His lips quirked. “I suspect you always get your man.”
“I do.”
But the hunt for Olson aside, she knew the man she really wanted was this one. This loner who held everything in. He was good and honorable, and lived with the scars of the things he’d seen and done. And had done to him.
She clenched her hands together and looked out the helicopter window. She barely saw the mountains below. She wondered if this time she’d get her man.
Now is not the time, Jenna . She pulled in a steadying breath.
Once Olson was in custody, then she’d turn her formidable skills onto Parker Conroy.
Soon the coastline came into view. Valdez was located up a fjord, the blue water ringed by wild mountains. It was beautiful.
“We’re coming into land,” Owen said.
Jenna spotted the airport. It was just outside the town.
“The troopers are meeting us with vehicles,” Owen said.
It wasn’t long before Jenna was leaping off the helicopter and striding toward one of the black SUVs waiting for them.
“Owen, I need you to stay here and coordinate with the state troopers.”
He jerked to a halt. “I want to help chase down Olson.”
“I know. I need you to get a roadblock set up on the highway out of Valdez. And talk to the harbormaster, and stop any boats leaving.”
He pressed a hand to the back of his neck.
“I know you want to be in the action, but this is important.”
He nodded. “I’m on it.”
She slid into the driver’s seat, and Park climbed into the passenger seat beside her.
“The Subaru was spotted parked downtown,” Owen said. “Not far from the boat harbor.”
She nodded and studied the map of Valdez. “This ends today.”
Her fellow marshal nodded. “Be careful. Both of you.”
Jenna started the engine and pulled out.
Soon, they drove into the town, passing under a large arch that proclaimed, Valdez, Alaska . The town wasn’t big, with wide streets and buildings spaced out. If she hadn’t been so focused on finding Olson, she would have taken more time to admire the stunning mountains that ringed the water.
She drove past the harbor, noting all the docks filled with boat slips. Hundreds of boats bobbed on the water. She turned into the next street, noting some restaurants and other businesses. She parked, and they climbed out.
“We don’t want to stick out.” Park took her hand.
Jenna curled her fingers around his. He kept his pace slow and easy, and she guessed at a glance they looked like a tourist couple out for a stroll.
There were more people on the sidewalk than she’d anticipated.
“They come for the fishing,” Park murmured. “And the hiking and glaciers.”
She carefully searched around. There was no sign of Olson. Two men—fishermen, she guessed—stumbled out of a bar. One was singing at the top of his lungs, while the other wavered on his feet. They were clearly drunk. She glanced up at the sign above— The Taphouse .
“Maybe Olson wanted a drink?” she suggested.
Park held the door of The Taphouse open for her, and they stepped inside.
This place wasn’t fancy, but it had a decent crowd. She saw a server setting plates topped with huge crab legs down on a table. At the bar, several men were sipping beers with Valdez Brewing written on the glasses.
She and Park found a high table, and she leaned against it, looking around the bar discreetly.
“I’ll buy us some drinks, to help us blend in.” Park headed for the bar.
Jenna saw tourists, fishermen that she guessed came from the commercial boats, and a few locals. She hadn’t really expected to find Olson here, but a bar was his favorite hunting ground.
The pressure was on him. Maybe the urge to kill would get the better of him.
Park returned with two beers, and she made herself take a sip.
“Did you see him?” she asked.
Park shook his head. “The bartender hasn’t seen him either.”
At a table nearby, some of the fishermen got rowdy, and started singing. A female server hurried past, balancing a tray full of drinks. Across the bar, there was a man with a black knit hat on his head. He turned and his gaze locked with hers.
Olson .
Her pulse kicked into gear. “Park.”
He lifted his head and spotted Olson.
More people rose and joined in the singing. They blocked Jenna’s view of her quarry.
“Dammit.” She shot to her feet and pushed through the crowd.
Then she spotted Olson again. He turned to a fisherman and swung his fist. He punched the man right in the face.
That was all it took.
With a roar, the fisherman swung, but instead of hitting Olson, he hit another man.
“What the fuck?” the recipient of the punch bellowed.
A brawl broke out.
Jenna couldn’t get through. Across the chaos, Olson smiled at her, then slipped out the back door.
Park shouldered out of The Taphouse.
They were only seconds behind Olson, but that was all he needed.
As they chased after Olson into a back alley behind the bar, he noticed a nearby dumpster, a parked truck, and a couple of shipping containers he guessed were for storage. “Dammit, I don’t see him.” Jenna put her hands on her hips as she looked around.
Park sensed something. “That way.” He turned left and took off at a run. His entire focus narrowed in on chasing Olson.
It ended here. Today .
Olson had put Ghost Ops to shame, and Park wouldn’t let it stand. Most of all, he wanted Jenna safe.
Jenna kept pace with him. They ran out of the alley and onto the street. There were several tourists walking on the sidewalk. Across the street was an empty lot with some RVs parked in it. A double-story building that housed several shops lay just beyond that. Cheery, colorful flower boxes decorated the front of it.
Park slowed down, making himself really look at everyone walking nearby. There was a laughing couple, a family with several teenagers who were all hunched over their cellphones, some older couples he guessed were vacationing together. Then he spotted a man near the corner, moving fast.
He wore a black, knit hat.
“There.” Park skirted some people and broke into a run.
Olson glanced back and spotted them. He ripped the hat off his head, then shoved a nearby woman. With a cry, she tripped over and hit the concrete.
Park leaped over her.
“Help her,” Jenna yelled at someone.
Olson turned a corner and Park followed. He saw Olson dart across the street. As Park ran out, a car screeched to a halt, narrowly missing him.
Fuck .
As a horn blared, Park pressed one palm to the hood, slid across it, and kept going.
Ahead, Olson disappeared down the next street.
Park rounded the corner, blood pumping. A long, low building housing a hotel was on one side. The Harbor Inn. On the other were some trailer homes. There was no sign of Olson. No sign of anyone.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Jenna caught up with him. “Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.” They walked down the sidewalk, searching.
“There!” Jenna pointed up.
There was a flash of movement and Parker saw Olson on the roof of the inn. The man was running along it and moving quickly.
Park took off. Ahead, he spotted a dumpster beside the end of the building and leaped on top of it. He jumped up, caught the edge of the roof, then hauled himself up.
He looked back down at Jenna.
“Go!” she yelled. “Get him and I’ll follow.”
Park straightened. His gaze locked on Olson and he set off after the man. He carefully navigated the roof. Ahead, Olson reached the edge of the building and leaped across the small gap to the next building.
He was gaining on Olson. The man glanced back and saw him coming.
That’s right. I’m coming for you.
Park pumped his arms and closed the distance. He leaped across another gap.
Olson reached the end of the second building. The next building was too far away for him to jump to. He stopped, but Parker didn’t. He picked up speed and hit Olson.
They flew off the edge of the building. The ground below raced up at them.
Park braced, then shoved Olson away from him. He landed and rolled, ignoring the aches and pains that rattled through him. He’d had worse landings.
Olson landed badly. He was flat on his stomach, breathing hard, his face twisted. Unsteadily, he pushed to his feet.
They were standing between a brick building and a parked truck. No one could see them from the street.
Parker pulled out his gun and advanced on him. “It’s over, Olson.”
Olson straightened, then yanked a knife off his belt. “A good Ghost Ops soldier never gives up.”
“You are not Ghost Ops. You never were.”
Olson smiled. “You hate knowing that I’m better than you.” He threw the knife, the move fast and sure.
The knife hit Park’s gun, nicking his hand. The gun fell from his fingers.
Quickly, he spun, blocking Olson’s kick. Olson came at Park again and they traded several hard, brutal blows.
Olson pulled back. Now, he pulled out a second knife. This one was a tactical knife—the same one they’d carried in Ghost Ops. It was designed to kill.
They circled each other.
“You shouldn’t have agreed to hunt a brother,” Olson said.
“You’re not my brother. You’re a murderer.”
Olson lunged and swung the knife.
Park barely leaped back in time. The guy was fast.
Olson smiled. “I think I’ll enjoy gutting you. Then, I’ll find your marshal.”
Park ground his teeth together until his jaw hurt. The thought of Olson anywhere near Jenna made him see red.
“You don’t like that, do you?” Olson drawled.
“I don’t like you at all.”
They circled in the opposite direction, then Olson attacked.
Park blocked the knife and punched the man in the side. His grunt was music to Park’s ears. But Olson whirled and rammed his elbow into Park’s chest. The fight turned vicious. Their arms moved fast, as they both blocked and dodged hits. Park got some blows in, but so did Olson.
He forced himself to ignore the pain. Win the fight, take Olson down, that was all that mattered.
“Parker!” Jenna’s shout echoed off the brick wall of the nearby building.
The minute distraction was all Olson needed. There was a flash of the knife, and Park felt a hot sting on his arm.
With a hiss, he pulled back.
Olson grinned.
Park refocused. When Olson swung again, he timed it right and grabbed the man’s arm and twisted.
Olson grunted, then Park rammed him head first into the wall.
“Kyle Olson, you’re under arrest.” Jenna stepped into view, her gun aimed at Olson. “Drop the knife.”
Park squeezed Olson’s arm, and the knife dropped to the ground.
All of a sudden, Olson whipped his free hand up.
“He has another knife!” Jenna yelled.
Dammit, how many blades was the guy carrying? Park jerked to the side, but he wasn’t quick enough.
The knife stabbed into his side. Pain sizzled through him, and he heard Jenna cry out.
He wrenched away from Olson. The man still clutched the knife in his hand and it was covered in blood.
Park tried to stay upright, but a wave of dizziness hit. He fell to the ground. Dammit to hell.
Jenna fired, and Olson turned and pulled out his own gun.
“Jenna, get into cover,” Park yelled.
She ignored him.
He had to get up. He had to help Jenna. Pain drilled through his hip and side, and he gritted his teeth. He got to his knees.
Olson smiled. “Oh, yes, the pretty marshal and I are going to have so much fun.”
Fuck . Helplessness hit him, squeezing his insides. For a second, he felt like he was back running through that village. Knowing he’d be too late to save his fellow soldiers.
No . This was Jenna. Failure wasn’t an option.
Park got one foot under him.
Clunk .
Something metallic rolled into view.
Frowning, Olson turned.
Parker knew exactly what it was. He closed his eyes and turned his head away.
The flash bang went off with a blinding flash of light and an ear-splitting noise. In the chaos, he heard Jenna scream his name.