Chapter Twelve
Rain needled through the trees, the increased wind lifting some of the fog, though fingers of it still lingered in the branches, cloaking all but the top of the canopy as they found the main road back to the center of the basin.
Tierney’s stomach dropped.
Pike had sounded different. Colder, as if their success had cost him. The way he’d been that night when the generator had failed.
Another roll of thunder sent shivers down her spine. She hated the way it vibrated deep in her chest. How the lightning illuminated the shadows in ghostly snapshots that toyed with her sanity. And she couldn’t help but draw the parallels between tonight and the one in Colombia. How she’d been worried this game would tempt fate when she’d already pushed it farther than was wise.
Buck ran behind her, still blocking the worst of the wind as it tore down the trail, the road funneling it toward the camp. He’d more than impressed her, disarming the collars in adverse conditions with bullets pinging off the beams. And she knew, he’d do it again. Whatever twists Pike threw at him, Buck would beat the odds.
Her chest tightened.
She couldn’t lose him. Not after finally acknowledging what he meant to her. That, without him, she’d still be trapped in the darkness. Still be hiding in her cabin, praying the demons didn’t find her.
Another rumble, only this time, she embraced it. She’d used a storm’s fury to beat Pike once before. She’d do it again.
Tierney paused at the top of the ridge, staring down into the heart of the basin. What looked like a graveyard of brown-streaked yellow-painted iron. Massive, rusted logging equipment littered the large clearing, the machines spread out across the muddy landscape. Three rotting bunkhouses circled the perimeter, a large, corrugated steel maintenance shed dominating the center, the shiny silver rolling door gleaming in the last vestiges of light.
The fog seemed thicker, carrying the scent of diesel, rust, and old oil, the wind barely swirling the mist amidst the skeletal remains.
Buck scanned the area, mouth pinched tight, muscles primed. He glanced at her, smiled. “Beats the river.”
“Let’s hope you still think that once we get down there.”
She headed off, following the winding switchbacks down the ravine walls, streaming mud and wet lichen nearly taking them to their knees more than once. Buck maintained his vigil, close enough he could jump in front but with enough distance he blocked any shot from behind.
She stopped once they reached the tree line, ducking behind an ancient pine before anyone inside the perimeter could get a bead on them. Rain hammered the metal roof, the drum-like beat echoing across the basin, bouncing back on itself as it hit the trees. A muffled cry sounded from somewhere off to the right, the open space amplifying the noise.
Buck pressed against her, the subtle contact easing the jumpy rhythm of her heart. “Well, this sucks. Every step is going to echo like a damn gunshot.” He rolled his shoulders. “Never thought I’d miss having to crawl through the woods.”
She pointed to one of the machines leaning cockeyed in the mud. “I say we make a run for the bulldozer. See if anyone takes a shot. Might narrow down where they’re hiding.”
“Agreed.” He moved in front. “Think it’s time I took lead.”
“Buck.”
“Your vest already took a round. I’m just playing the numbers.”
She stared at him, aware this wasn’t a fight she’d win. Not with his jaw firmed and his shoulders back.
He took her silence as his cue to move, sliding down the last of the muddy ravine, then slipping into the shadows of the bulldozer. She trailed behind him, covering his six, watching for any hint of movement.
Buck waited for her to settle in behind him before moving again, leapfrogging from one rusted chassis to another, using cracked mirrors to check around corners without presenting a target. He kept his rifle at the ready, covering every angle until they reached the halfway point. Tierney pressed her back against the hauler, inching closer to Buck as he stood at the front edge, scope pressed to his eye.
He motioned to the excavator sitting dead center of the yard. “Found our assets.”
Tierney peeked around the bumper, noting two hostages chained to the massive steel treads. “Jesus. It’s wide-open. Not a stitch of cover within twenty meters of them.”
“Thinking that’s the point.” He nodded toward a bunkhouse roof, then over to the sixty-foot crane off to the side. “Guaranteed we’ve got eyes up high, waiting for us to cross the gravel.”
She checked the time. “Fourteen minutes.”
Buck nodded, gaze sweeping the surroundings, and she knew he was looking for a way out that kept her on the sidelines and him in the crosshairs.
She checked her Sig — half a clip with another mag in her vest, a couple flash bangs for when things got desperate. “I’ll draw their fire. You push to the excavator. Start working on those collars. I’ll keep their focus on me.”
“Tierney…”
