Coulter waited, the wind still howling, the beam shaking beneath him as he copied her approach — all but belly crawling the remaining twenty feet.
Shots cracked off the steel next to him, the sparks lighting up the night before Scout returned fire, the muzzle glowing in the swirling fog. He moved faster, the pressure crushing his ribs, his lungs barely getting any air. Someone shouted behind him, accompanied by the answeringthutof Neve’s rifle.
Zadie’s radio crackled in the background, and she tilted her head, muttering to herself before she looked up. “RCMP’s Air Services unit inbound with SAR. We’ve got maybe three minutes.”
Coulter cursed, crawled that last couple feet, every muscle and bone screaming, the woman still slung over his shoulders. Wynn met him at the edge then she and Zadie lifted the woman off his shoulders and carried her behind a stand of trees several feet off. He rolled, palmed his Sig, sweeping the gorge, half-expecting one of the enhanced bastards to be racing across the beam, just like Neve had done.
Ramsey stood just inside the tunnel’s exit, partially hidden behind the collapsed timbers, two of his men staggering to their feet in front, blood blooming across their jackets. He looked Coulter in the eye, that dead gaze coldly assessing everything. He raised his hand, twirled his finger.
The men bolted back into the tunnel, vanishing into the dark as Ramsey remained a moment longer, staring at Coulter like he had at Blackridge before he turned, disappeared.
Coulter closed his eyes, breathed through the pain, before stumbling to his feet, hooking Neve’s arm when she stopped next to him. “You’re nuts.”
“Says the guy who’s operating on adrenaline and rage.”
“What you did…”
“You can voice your opinion, later. We’ve got two minutes to clear out before the cops put us in the center of a damn spotlight.”
“Oh, we’ll definitely be having a chat.”
He straightened, had Wynn help him heave the woman back on his shoulders before heading down the trail. Thick bramble clawed at their legs, the path a mix of over-sized salal and weeping sword fern.
The distant beat of rotors sounded above the rain, a white light punching through the darkness, sweeping across the ground, most of the beam reflected by the fog.
They darted into the underbrush, crouching amidst the evergreens as the chopper flew over, the rotors so loud he felt the rhythm inside his chest. They waited, the strum fading as it headed for the ridge line, that light quickly dimming.
Scout stood, cleared both directions, then waved them on, picking the clearest line through the brush. Mud splashed up Coulter’s pants, his footfalls deadened by the spongy carpet of needles as they wove down the hillside, Neve still guarding their six.
They reached another service main, deep ruts carved into the mud, what looked like a couple of cigarette butts flattened against a rock. Zadie held up her fist, and they took cover under a thick canopy of redwoods and alder.
She checked the comms, leaned against a six-foot wide trunk. “Shepherd just turned onto the forest main. He should be here in ten.”
Wynn helped Coulter ease the woman onto an emergency blanket, then ran through her vitals. “She’s breathing, but she’s got significant head trauma. She needs a hospital. Stat.”
Coulter nodded. “Shepherd and I can drop her off. Claim we found her outside. Slip away in the resulting chaos.” He gestured to Zadie. “Assuming you can loop their video feed until we’re clear.”
“You ask that like you don’t already know the answer.”
He chuckled. “My mistake.”
He leaned against another tree, watching Neve pace, every bruise he’d thought had healed from Ramsey’s facility burning back to life. He allowed himself a few more breaths, then stood, joining Neve on the edge of the road.
She looked up at him, her blue gaze raking the length of him. “Sit. I can handle sentry duty until Shepherd arrives.”
“Never said you couldn’t. But it’s always nice to have someone guarding your back.”
She snorted. “You always were shit at taking orders.”
“Only the ones that keep me off the playing field.” He turned, put his back against hers as they stood in the rain, the fog thinning a bit. “We’re still gonna have that chat.”
Neve pressed harder against him. “Is that before or after Darwin rips you a new one for making him patch you up again?”
“I’m not the only one he’ll be treating.”
She sighed, looking at him over her shoulder. “Then, I’ll make an extra pot of coffee so you don’t pass out before we’re done… Talking.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Trust me. Once I commit, there’s no stopping until the mission’s finished. And after watching you risk your ass for the past few hours, I’ve decided you’re my next op.” He turned, brushed some wet hair out of her eyes. “So, you’d best decide how you want our next encounter to end, because I know what I want, and failure’s not an option.”
