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The dog’s ears pricked up, and its thick tail thumped the floor.
“There’s a good dog. Come on over here.” With one hand, Coop beckoned. “Come here.”
The animal rose slowly to its feet with a small whimper. Once standing, it crept close enough to smell Coop’s outstretched hand. His tail swished again as the dog leaned in to lick the human’s face. Coop scratched the black ears, then ran hands along his body, continuing to press and poke until finally eliciting a yelp when he reached a spot just above the left shoulder.
“Little sore, aren’t you? But I don’t think there’s any serious damage.”
The tail swished with more enthusiasm.
Coop grinned and rubbed the dog’s chest. Hearing the jingle of tags, he reached for them, shaking his head in amusement at the message. “Jake, huh? Well, Jake, what happened here?”
Coop shifted to view the room and the pool of blood with one arm draped over the dog's back.Shit.He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. His team had laid the groundwork for Travis’s contingency plan early on, and Coop knew what he had to do. If Travis was still alive—and he had to be because Coop wouldn’t have it any other way—the next move would make all the difference. This assignment had been flawed from the beginning, but no one, including Travis, had wanted his opinion.
He needed the sat phone in his truck. His other partners, Luke and MacGyver, had to be updated and Blake, their helicopter pilot, put on stand-by. Coop glanced again at the dog. “And what are we going to do with you?”
Jake’s head cocked sideways at the words. When Coop left the church, the dog limped alongside him.
*****
TRAVIS LOWERED ANOTHERround wooden barrel into the back of the truck. Brody had wasted no time in breaking camp. Two men with automatic weapons walked the perimeter while the rest quickly tore down tents, packing up unused bags of fertilizer, boxes of nails, staples, razor blades—anything that could maim and kill. They stored a shit-ton of supplies, not counting the crates of automatic weapons and homemade bombs.
The day’s events had definitely shaken Brody, and he wasn’t taking any chances. Travis was the only one in camp unarmed and not by choice. Brody suspected he’d lied, so, for the time being, Travis was more of a prisoner than a member of their terrorist group. Everyone watched him. He caught their furtive glances. Right now, his cover was no doubt undergoing a thorough examination like never before. Coop had created his background, family, and arrest record. It wouldn’t be the first time his friend’s vigilance saved his life.
Travis hadn’t counted on Brody calling Halstead and receiving instructions to bring Alex’s body and Jordan to the ranch. The sudden intensity of Travis’s fear for her had tempted him to take on the heavily armed men to free her. Thankfully, reason had returned with the control he’d gained through years of combat experience. At best, his inspired charade had merely bought her a little more time. Likewise, her impulsively pushing it to the max had only postponed the inevitable. But alive was always better than dead. They still had a chance.
He’d played his role, watching as Alex’s lifeless body disappeared into the back of a Jeep, and Jordan’s unconscious form had been bound and tossed in beside the dead man. Liam, Alex’s suddenly unemployed bodyguard, drove the vehicle away from the church. The trip back to camp with Brody and Kyle had been uncomfortable, but it had given Travis time to think.
He had a plan—get out of Brody’s sight long enough to make a phone call. Coop was Jordan’s last hope. His friend could stop the Jeep before reaching Halstead’s fortress if Travis could contact him in time.
In two camp vehicles, satellite phones made up for the lack of a cell signal, but his plan wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. Brody hadn’t left him alone or unobserved, and Kyle seemed glued to Travis’s side, spewing a continual stream of lewd speculations about his trek through the woods with Jordan. As usual, Kyle was drunk and getting more so as morning dawned. It took every bit of determination Travis had not to shut the man up permanently.
He was running out of time. Already, it was too late to rescue Jordan before the Jeep arrived at the ranch, where a sophisticated alarm system, surveillance cameras, and armed guards would make freeing her more difficult.
“Damn! I bet that woman is fine underneath all those clothes. Right? Shit, I got me a hard-on just thinking about it.” Kyle stopped working to wipe the sweat from his brow and leered at Travis.
“You’ll never know, asshole.” Travis chuckled with a group of men working nearby who’d overheard Kyle’s drivel. A few of the guys were starting to loosen up, their features laced with less suspicion. Kyle was too drunk to be a serious threat, but Brody was a different matter. He was ever-vigilant, waiting for Travis to make a misstep, and only a call from Hallstead would change his mind.
Damn it. He’d promised to keep Jordan alive. Instead, Travis had dropped his guard and allowed her to distract him. He knew better. Damn her stubborn innocence anyway. None of his self-recriminations would let him forget the split second her horror-filled brown eyes locked onto his before her knees buckled. In her expression, he’d recognized the absolute devastation brought about by taking a life, and the guilt would no doubt eat her alive. Travis and his teammates had all been there, and none of them had walked away unchanged.
As soon as the men finished loading the bunker's contents, Travis drove the truck back to the main compound area. The rest of the crew struck tents, folded them, and stowed them in the other big truck. Sleeping bags and camping gear went on top with little care.
“Hey, watch those lanterns!” Brody growled, leaning against the side of his Jeep.
“Piss off.” Kyle spoke quietly so only Travis could hear as they jumped out to help.
Soon, they’d loaded everything of value. Empty boxes, broken equipment, and garbage littered the ground wherever it’d fallen. The men clustered around the trucks, waiting for Brody to give the order to move out. Those who talked did so in low voices.
Travis tried to ignore the dark stare Brody directed toward him. Guys like Brody didn’t bother him, but it made some of the others nervous, and they gradually drifted away until Travis stood alone. Their fearless leader was waiting for Halstead to call and tell him whether Travis’s cover story passed muster.Like they didn’t check it out good enough the first time.Travis forced his nerves down deep, kicked back against the truck tire, and returned Brody’s glare, spinning his Navy SEAL challenge coin through his fingers.
The ringing of the sat phone dropped stone-cold silence into the clearing. Brody grinned, swung one leg into the front of the Jeep, and reached for the handset.
Now would be the time to make a run for it. No one had bothered to search Travis for hidden weapons, and the 38 strapped to his leg gave him an edge. With everyone’s eyes on him, he wouldn’t get very far. If he did manage to escape, he’d be on foot with no cell signal. Better to trust that his cover would withstand the scrutiny.
A tense moment passed before Brody hung up and stepped from the Jeep. He carried a gun in his hand—the semi-automatic they’d taken from the back of a chair in the church where Travis had left it and walked too far away. Brody pulled a clip from his back pocket and shoved it into place.
He lifted his hate-filled gaze to Travis, and a smirk twisted his lip.
Kyle shuffled toward Travis, a grin lighting his sweaty face. “Hey, man. Was she worth it?”
