Chapter 8
Having carefully studied the video recording Amber provided, Hunter realized exactly when the two groups were going to meet again in the forest. They were certain, unless something changed, the meeting place would again be visited by the cartel leader and the MC club president at the same time as Amber had seen them before. Waking up with Amber in his bed had changed everything as far as Hunter was concerned. Even if Amber was acting like everything remained the same.
He couldn’t think about her now, he had to focus on the task at hand, making Amber’s family home safe, and keeping Grand Ridge free from drug trafficking. Hunter’s boots sank silently into the mossy forest floor, his gaze darting between the shadows cast by the towering pines. Beside him, Amber’s breaths came in steady, controlled bursts. Ghost, earning his nickname as the ever the silent predator, flanked their rear, eyes scanning for threats with deadly precision.
The world seemed to narrow down to the thrumming of Hunter”s pulse in his ears—a pulsating reminder of the peril they were inching toward. The meeting place was not too far ahead.
“Stay sharp,” Hunter whispered, though he knew it was unnecessary. Amber could speak the language of danger fluently, more so than any of the foreign languages she conversed in casually.
He caught a glimpse of her profile, the determination set in her brown eyes, and felt a twinge of something more perilous than their mission stir within him. Protectiveness? No, it was more personal—more intimate. He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the task at hand, but the seed of realization had been planted. He liked her, damn it, far more than he was supposed to.
As they advanced, Hunter’s keen eyes picked up on the signs of recent activity. A rifle, a careless testament to the haste of its owner, laid propped against a tree. The muddy earth told tales of frequent passage with footprints stamped into its skin, fresh enough to speak of recent visitors or inhabitants.
Gunfire shattered the stillness, a cacophony of chaos erupting without warning. Bullets whizzed past Hunter”s head, close enough to send a paralyzing shockwave through his body. Amber dove to the ground, rolling behind the girth of an ancient pine as splinters erupted where she had just stood.
“Contact right!” Ghost”s voice cut through the disarray, calm and controlled despite the sudden onslaught.
Hunter”s training kicked in, muscle memory guiding him more than thought as he dropped to one knee, using a thick tree trunk for cover. His heart hammered against his ribs like a frenzied drummer, but his hands were steady as he aimed his weapon and fired toward the shadowy figures darting between the trees.
Ghost was a silent wraith, moving with precision as he returned fire, coordinating their defense with tactical hand signals. They created a rhythm, a deadly dance of bullets and movement designed to keep their enemies guessing, to keep them alive.
Hunter’s gaze locked onto Amber for a fraction of a second, long enough to see her determination, to know she wasn”t just surviving—she was fighting with the ferocity of someone defending more than just her own life.
“Stay down!” he shouted. The forest echoed with the sound of warfare, the peaceful sanctuary transformed into a battleground. Hunter could taste the gunpowder on his tongue, metallic and biting, and smell the sharp tang of pine mixed with the acrid stench of fear and sweat.
“Three o”clock!” Amber called out, her voice cutting through the din. Hunter swiveled, sighting down his barrel, and squeezed the trigger. A figure stumbled back, disappearing into the underbrush.
“Keep it tight!” Ghost commanded, his silhouette flickering between trees as he moved with lethal grace.
Time lost meaning as the trio fought back-to-back, the line between attacker and defender blurring amidst the smoke and shouts. With every shot fired, Hunter”s resolve hardened—this was not how their story would end, not here, not now. Not while his heart beat with the unspoken words he”d yet to say to Amber, not while they still had a fighting chance to make it out together.
Hunter”s heart pounded a rapid rhythm, mirroring the staccato bursts of gunfire that stitched the air around them. He could barely make out Amber”s form, low and agile, as she darted behind a thick pine, her movements sharp and deliberate. Ghost was a shadow, flitting from cover to cover, his commands mere whispers carried on the wind. The cartel, with predatory precision, was closing in, their steps muffled by the dense carpet of fallen needles.
“Flanking us!” Hunter hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes flicking to the left where the brush crackled ominously. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple, mingling with the dirt smeared on his skin. This was chess with live ammunition, and they were pawns caught in a deadly game.
Amber caught Hunter”s gaze for a fraction of a second—an eternity in the firefight—and nodded. “East ridge,” she mouthed, signaling toward a rocky outcrop that offered both elevation and concealment.
“Move!” The single word cut through the chaos, and they obeyed, Ghost taking point as they slithered through the underbrush, their bodies low. Leaves and twigs snapped beneath their weight, betraying their path, but speed was their ally now. They weaved between the trees, using them as shields against the relentless volley of bullets seeking their flesh.
Hunter felt the forest around him, its rough bark beneath his palms, the resilient boughs that bent and sprang back as they brushed past. He let the natural cadence of the wild guide his movements, each step calculated to use the terrain to their advantage. The dense foliage became their fortress, obscuring lines of sight, turning the hunters into the hunted.
“Split and converge at the ridge!” Ghost commanded; his voice barely audible above the cacophony. Amber peeled off without hesitation, her athletic frame slipping through a narrow gap between two boulders. Hunter mirrored her, choosing an alternate route that would bring them together at the designated point. He was incredibly glad they’d discussed all of this ahead of time…just in case. Turned out, just in case was certainty.
The cartel”s shouts grew louder, their frustration mounting as the trio danced just out of reach, their training melding with instinct. Every move was a deliberate act of defiance, a refusal to be cornered, to be captured. They were not merely surviving; they were reclaiming control, one breath, one heartbeat at a time.
As they regrouped behind the sanctuary of jagged rocks, Hunter allowed himself a split-second glance at Amber. Her face was set, the determination etched into every feature. She was more than a documentary host; she was a force unto herself, fierce and unyielding. She’d told him how she’d gone through personal training with a former Army Delta Force operator. She’d learned evasive maneuvers, weapons handling, and self-defense, among other things. But he’d wondered if she’d ever had to put any of it to use. With how she was behaving now, he doubted this was her first firefight.
“Ready?” he whispered, his hand finding hers.
“Yes,” she replied, and in her eyes, Hunter saw the reflection of his own resolve. They were in this together, come what may.
Time stretched thin, every second a brush with oblivion. Hunter watched as Amber made her move, sprinting toward a cluster of rocks that offered better shelter. The cartel was closing in, their shots growing more precise by the moment.
“Three o”clock, high!” Ghost”s warning sliced through the tension. Hunter swung his rifle up, sighting the threat just as Amber threw herself to the ground. The bullet meant for her bit into the earth where she”d stood moments before.
“Got him,” Hunter confirmed, his finger squeezing the trigger, sending a retort back through the trees. They were a seamless unit, every motion, every shot, a piece of a larger strategy designed to keep them one step ahead.
“Push forward!” Amber”s command was a whip-crack of authority. They knew the risks, understood that standing still was as good as a death sentence. Their only chance was to keep the cartel guessing, keep them reacting.
Hunter leaped over a fallen log, catching Amber”s nod as she signaled their next move. Together, they zigzagged through the dense forest, Ghost”s presence an ever-watchful guardian at their backs.
“Ridge in sight,” Amber reported, her breaths coming fast and sharp. Hunter felt the burn in his own lungs, the ache in his muscles, but there was no room for pain, not when survival was on the line.
As they neared the ridge, a fleeting silence descended, the briefest respite in the maelstrom of violence. But it was a deceitful calm, the eye of a storm that raged mercilessly around them. And as they prepared to crest the hill, ready to face whatever lay beyond, Hunter knew that this fight was far from over.
The snap of a twig underfoot, a curse whispered in Spanish—the sounds ricocheted through Hunter”s consciousness as he flanked Amber. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, enough to communicate volumes. She was aware, poised for the next onslaught.
“?Refuerzos!” The shout pierced the relative silence and Hunter”s gut twisted.
Reinforcements.
They were outnumbered before; now the odds were about to get a whole lot worse.
“Ghost, you hear that?” Amber”s voice barely carried over the rustling leaves, yet her tone cut through with clarity.
“Copy,” came the gruff acknowledgment, Ghost”s silhouette a shade among shades, moving with lethal purpose. Hunter knew what this meant—they couldn”t afford to be pinned down. He scanned the treeline, glimpsing the glint of sunlight on metal. More guns, more danger. His heart hammered against his ribs, not with fear, but resolve.
“Fall back! Fall back and flank!” he called out, his voice low and urgent.
Amber nodded, darting behind a tree as a bullet whizzed by, embedding into the bark inches from where her head had been moments before. Hunter followed suit, the sound of gunfire a drumbeat spurring them on. They couldn”t let up, not even as the air grew thick with the scent of pine and gunpowder. Every step, every move was calculated, their training melding with instinct as they countered the cartel”s advance.
“Left side, two tangos circling!” Ghost”s warning sliced through Hunter”s focus. He swung around, sighting his weapon, and squeezed the trigger twice. Two thuds in the underbrush confirmed hits, but there was no time to celebrate—survival was the only victory that mattered right now.
“Push to the clearing, we can hold them off there,” Ghost ordered.
“Clearing”s a kill zone if they”ve got numbers,” Hunter countered, weighing their options. The decision was a gamble either way, but hesitation was a luxury they couldn”t afford.
“Then we don”t give them the chance to use it,” Ghost interjected, always the tactical thinker.
“Move on my signal,” Hunter decided, his strategy clear and decisive. There wasn’t time for debate, only action.
“Go!”
They broke cover, sprinting toward the clearing with the kind of speed only adrenaline could fuel. Shots flew past them; some so close Hunter could feel their heat. But fear was a distant concept now, overshadowed by the need to survive, to fight, to protect.
“Circle around, up there!” Hunter instructed, knowing height offered an advantage. Every muscle fiber burned, but it was nothing compared to the fire within, the relentless drive pushing him beyond his limits.
The sound of engines roared in the distance, reinforcements arriving, the threat escalating.
A sudden cry cut through the chaos—a signal from higher ups. One by one, the cartel members” return fire began to wane, their silhouettes retreating into the dense cover of pines and aspens. Then, as if on cue, the world went silent save for the echo of gunfire fading into memory.
Hunter scanned the treeline, every sense attuned to movement, but the cartel seemed to have evaporated.
“Clear...for now,” Hunter said. Amber panted beside him, her gaze locked onto Hunter”s, searching for confirmation of safety, confusion etched into her features.
“Copy that,” Ghost confirmed, his voice steady but strained.
The trio slumped against the rough bark of trees, their makeshift fortress in the wild skirmish. Hunter felt the sting of a graze along his arm, the blood warm as it weaved a path down his skin. He pressed against it with a grimace, acknowledging the wound but refusing its demand for attention.
“Everyone in one piece?” His eyes flitted to Amber, noting the way she assessed her own scrapes with clinical detachment.
“Nothing I can”t handle,” she replied, a wry smile fighting against the fatigue etched on her face.
Ghost checked his sidearm, reloading with mechanical precision. “We”ll need to move before they regroup. Can”t afford to get pinned down. I don’t know who gave the order, but I don’t like it. Why’d they call them off? Something’s not right.”
“Agreed,” Hunter said. He didn’t like it either. First, they were under attack, and then with one word, it stopped. Was it a setup? Were they waiting for them below? Or did the order come for them to leave, their leaders not wanting to risk any of their lives? Did they think they were the feds and didn’t want to risk it? Too many questions rushed through Hunter’s mind. As they caught their breath, the reality of their ordeal settled around them.
“Amber...” Hunter began, the words catching in his throat as he thought about the bullet that barely missed taking her life. His concern for her safety gnawed at him, the realization of how deep his feelings ran leaving him vulnerable.
Before she could say anything, the forest”s deceptive calm shattered as a burst of static broke through the trees, followed by distant shouts—too structured to be anything but tactical commands. Hunter”s pulse spiked, his fingers tightening around the grip of his weapon.
“Guess it’s not over after all. They went back for reinforcements,” Ghost hissed, eyes scanning the encroaching twilight. “Time to vanish.”
“Go, go!” Amber”s response was immediate, her body coiling into action like a spring released from tension.
They darted between the pines, boots thudding against the earth, breaths ragged whispers in the cold air. Hunter”s mind raced with every footfall; they were outnumbered, outgunned, the net closing in with each heartbeat.
Without a second to lose, they headed for the waiting ATVs. The engines roared to life as soon as the keys were turned, and they sped off, twisting, and weaving through the forest trails. Hunter”s heart pounded in his chest as he maneuvered the vehicles around tight curves and over bumps, branches whipping past their faces. Amber and Ghost held on tightly, eyes darting around for any sign of pursuit. After making sure they weren’t followed, they turned and headed toward Amber’s grandparent’s house.
They finally made it back to the main house, adrenaline still surging through their veins. They quickly debriefed Cameron and Lauren on the harrowing events in the forest. Cameron”s jaw clenched as he listened, his face a mask of anger. “I can believe the local police wouldn’t do anything. Those two are a couple of jokes. Sheriff Pete would have helped but he’s laid up after surgery. The other two only care about a paycheck. They do no real police work other than giving a couple tourists a year speeding tickets. We need backup we can trust,” he said, grabbing his secure radio. “I know just the guy.”
“I feel like we lost today,” Amber said, sliding into the oversized recliner that was her grandfather’s favorite.
“I wouldn’t call it a loss. I’d like to know how they knew we were coming though,” Ghost said. “It’s like they were given a heads up. It shouldn’t have gone this way.”
“I agree,” Hunter said. “There weren’t any trail cameras out there. Amber and I checked on our hike. I know you said the two officers are worthless, but could they have tipped them off?”
“No,” Cameron shook his head. “They are lazy and stupid, but not corrupt.”
“Maybe.” It didn’t make sense. Hunter couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more than met the eye with what had just occurred.
“Jimmy is going to meet us but not here. He said we need to keep officials as far away from the house and the glamping retreat as possible just in case someone from the Cartel is watching.”
“I agree,” Hunter said.
Moments later Ghost, Hunter, Cameron, Amber, and Lauren waited for Jimmy at a remote location outside of town limits.
Jimmy”s truck came into view, bouncing along the rutted road. He pulled up and Hunter watched the burly man get out of his truck. He could use to lose a few pounds, and his hairline was receding. He definitely wasn’t what Hunter was expecting.
“Jimmy,” Amber acknowledged with a nod, “I hear you know my grandparents.”
“Sure do,” Jimmy said, a smile creasing his weathered face. “Your grandfather was one of the first to welcome me into town when I got the assignment a few years back. He told me how your grandfather”s grandfather was the one who first settled this land, had it in the family for over two hundred years. Good people.”
“Some of the best,” Amber replied. Hunter bit back the desire to snatch Jimmy’s hand out of Amber’s.
“Cameron filled me in on my way over,” he said, after a quick round of introductions. “I’m not the least bit surprised local PD did nothing to help. I think I can offer a bit more than they did. There’s an old, abandoned hunting lodge, not on your land, but in the park. It’s on protected land, which is why it’s never been torn down. I was tracking a black bear and came across some evidence that the cabin was being used. I thought at the time, maybe it was illegal poachers. But now…”
“It could be the cartel,” Hunter said. “Can you show us where it is?”
“Absolutely. I know who you are,” Jimmy said looking from Hunter to Ghost. “But don’t you think you should get the fed’s involved?”
“No.” The men answered in unison. Both had reservations about including the government for any reason.
“We need more solid evidence. Once we build a good enough case against them, then we will strike.”