Chapter 40
Forty
Sweat dripped down his back in the growing darkness.
This deadlock wouldn’t end well for someone, and he didn’t take his eyes off Sarah’s former boss.
He didn’t care that the man was still CIA.
He didn’t care what agency the man was with or who was ultimately funding the operation—but the man before him had shifted, morphed right in front of Ryder’s eyes.
He no longer smiled. His expression had gone cold, and he didn’t bother to hide his true intentions. No more diplomacy or mask. He was just a man with no chains and nothing left to lose—for what reasons, Ryder couldn’t know, and he didn’t care.
Sarah continued to stand her ground, the vial clenched tight in her shaking hand.
He wished things hadn’t come to this point where she had been forced into this decision, this crucible that left them with no good options, but in all of it, he admired her for the brutal restraint it took to hold the line when her son’s life hung in the balance.
Earlier, she’d thanked him for saving her, and here they were again, in the middle of certain death. God, help me.
There had to be a way to end this without losing anyone. Without losing her. Without failing. And even if they survived this debacle, for once Ryder dared to believe in more than just survival. Just existing. And that’s all he’d done for two years since his father’s death.
Existed. That was no way to live. He wanted to save the girl, her son, and he wanted to live life to the fullest.
Please, God. Show me the way.
Malcolm stepped forward, voice low, laced with his own brand of menace. “You’ve made your point. Now, hand it over. Or this ends badly. For all of you. You, your son, and your friend here.”
He flicked his fingers. The other gunman stepped toward Sarah and aimed his gun at her head. These people didn’t understand the laws of gravity.
Ryder’s pulse spiked. He dropped a hand into the pocket where his Glock 9mm was holstered. He didn’t draw, not yet.
He could be equally lethal with his words. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice like a hot iron ready to burn through the gunman first, Malcolm next. And Tessa?
“You fire, you rush us, you make one wrong move, and she drops it. But we’re leaving now, and Jeremy had better be waiting for us safe, sound, and happy—at the Mercy Ridge sheriff’s office in half an hour.
” Not enough time, but it would get them rushing.
He flicked his gaze to Tessa, giving her his severest look.
Had he imagined she gave him a subtle nod?
“Or what?” Malcolm asked.
“Or this entire illegal operation is all coming down on your head. You’ll rot in prison on treason-level charges—bioweapons, WMDs, the kind you don’t come back from.” Ryder didn’t know, but it sounded threatening enough.
Malcolm gave a thin smile. “You think we won’t find it?”
Malcolm had to know his days as a free man were numbered. The man had come into Ryder’s home, his mountain, his woods, thinking he had leverage, but he hadn’t known Ryder had leverage of his own—which Sarah now held in her hands, as threatening as a dirty bomb.
Ryder moved closer, shielding Sarah with his body. “I think you won’t care what happens to it if you hurt her. Or her son.”
Malcolm turned, sharp. “Take them.” The man pushed forward, his weapon still raised. Ryder’s hand closed on his gun, which he lifted, aiming it straight at the shooter, and braced for what came next. “Try it.”
The man’s finger twitched—
—and Ryder fired first.
The shot cracked through the trees. The gunman crumpled.
Malcolm spun, shouting. His other man dropped into a defensive stance, but Tessa took him out. Malcolm snatched the gun from the man Ryder had dropped. Heart hammering, vision narrowing, Ryder flattened Sarah behind the very boulder she threatened to drop the vial on. Not today. Not her. Not again.
And then, a familiar voice rang out, sharp as the gunshot.
“Federal agents! Drop your weapons!”
Holt’s voice from the tree line.
But Malcolm turned to flee. Oh no, you don’t.
He left Sarah and raced after Malcolm. Surging forward, he caught up to him and drove him into the ground.
The man rolled over and pointed the gun at Ryder.
He quickly disarmed Malcolm. Pulling his fist back, Ryder was ready to drive it into the man’s face with the fury of every mile, every climb, every fight that he and Sarah had waged to get to this point.
Ryder continued to hold the man down, his breath ragged with adrenaline. “Try,” Ryder hissed, “to get away from me.” He was practically begging the man to give him a reason to give him everything he deserved.
Holt’s boots crunched through the snow.
“Nice work,” his brother muttered. “I’ll take it from here.”
Ryder stood up, and Holt rolled the man over to cuff him, pressing him face down, the metal cuffs clicking shut. No rights were read. No questions were asked. Not yet.
“Looks like you didn’t need me after all,” Holt said.
Ryder exhaled, chest burning. “I knew you’d find us, and you came just in time.
” He gripped his shoulder. “I knew I could count on you. But we still have one critical issue—Sarah’s son.
I know they called him from that satellite phone.
” He gestured to one of the downed gunmen.
“Can you use that? Plus, there’s a chance Tessa could know where they’re keeping him. ”
“Wait here.” Holt left Ryder to guard Malcolm, then marched over to the phone, handing it off with instructions to one of his men.
Across the clearing, framed by pines and the dying light, Sarah looked destitute. A fist gripped his heart. He would go to her, except he was guarding the bad guy. She still clutched the vial tight, but then two men approached and opened a special canister. She carefully dropped it inside.
Holt returned, and two other federal agents led Malcolm away.
“We’ll find her son,” Holt said.
Ryder gave him a quick synopsis of everything, then asked, “Do we need to decontaminate?”
Honestly, Ryder suspected if he’d been exposed, he would have died quickly. They all would have.
“For security, yes. But that vial in Grandpa’s cabin has probably degraded due to temperature.
From what I can tell, that was an issue before.
The vials up on the mountain—if they’re still there—could remain as lethal as the first day they were created due to the low temps at that elevation, and even in the summer, the plane has remained hidden under snow and ice.
We’ve set up a quick decon tent to cover all the bases.
” Holt scrutinized Ryder. “You look rough, but you look healthy. My understanding is this was a fast-acting biotoxin, not viral.”
“In other words, I’d be showing signs by now.”
“Bro, you’d be dead by now. Wouldn’t have made it down the mountain. Probably not even escaped the avalanche.”
“Okay, okay. I got it.”
“We can talk about the details later. I’ve got you covered.
Better talk to her.” Holt gestured to Sarah, who, for the first time Ryder could remember, looked lost. Ryder had a hollow, empty feeling that slid through him—once this was over, she would be gone and out of his life, and he might be a little disoriented too, once that happened.
As for Sarah, she would definitely be lost until Jeremy was once again in her arms.