2000 Kisses (40 page)

They pulled her upright and shook her hard. Tess groaned and made a weak twisting movement.

“Untie her feet and put her on the ground. Then douse her with water.” The words were hard and clipped. “I want her awake and vocal when I call her brother. What happens after that is a different matter,” he added roughly.

After that they would kill hen

Tess fought back panic, loiowing she had to stay calm. She felt them work at the ropes on her ankles. Then she was toppled to the ground in a blur of pain that was followed by the slap of freezing water. This time she didn't have to feign a moan.

Somewhere nearby she heard the flare of a match. “Use more water. Then shake her.”

She steeled herself to another onslaught, listening to something rustle up the slope. She prayed it wasn't a snake.

“Sanchez, is that you?”

There was no reply to the clipped question.

“Dammit, if he's drinking again, I'll slit his throat myself.” Footsteps crunched loudly and Tess caught the scent of cigarette smoke. 'Til deal with the woman. You go see what's keeping Sanchez.”

“Sure thing.”

Tess waited, braced for another burst of cold water and a sharp slap.

Neither came.

Instead, she heard a muffled thump, followed by a rain of skittering pebbles. Smoke wafted close by her head.

“Sanchez?”

No answer.

“Dammit, Hammond, is that you?”

The silence stretched out, heavy and unnatural.
Boots crunched away up the slope. Above the fierce slam of her heart, Tess heard the sigh of the wind and the lonely yowl of a single coyote.

Her feet were free now. With luck she could work the blindfold off. Instinct screamed for her to move before they came back. Twisting hard, she strained at the blindfold with her bound hands, careful to make no noise. She finally managed to shove the dusty cloth high enough to make out a thin line of darkness.

Overhead she saw the glitter of a million stars, like a beacon of hope arching through the sky. T.J. would come for her. But until he did, she wouldn't be waiting around. She had to save herself.

“Sanchez, where are you?” The angry question drifted over the slope.

Tess braced one arm carefully. When the silence held, she pushed to a crouch and slipped past a barrel cactus into the darkness.

TJ. stared at the body.

Miguel must have gotten here already and handled this kidnapper. It was the pilot, judging by his flight suit with the bogus TV logo. He was bound with heavy black tape, legs to hands and an extra piece across his mouth. He was out cold, but Miguel was clearly taking no chances.

T.J. pulled the battery from the chopper and clipped two sets of wires, just in case they had any plan of heading for Mexico.

Three more to go. And it had to be done fast, before the kidnappers realized they had company.

He heard a noise up the hill. Swinging the night
scope, he saw a man with a metal can running toward the helicopter.

“Sanchez?”

T.J. flattened against the wall of the chopper.

Liquid sloshed in the metal can. “Dammit, Sanchez, if you're drinking again, you're dead,”

T.J. dropped behind the curve of the chopper, then went flat under its belly, waiting.

“Sanchez, answer me.”

T.J. figured that Sanchez didn't answer because he was out cold and bound with tape, thanks to Miguel. In ten more steps his body would be visible. T.J. cupped a hand over his mouth. “Over here.”

“Sanchez, if this is some new trick, you're going to be eating dirt for a week.”

The boots crunched closer. The metal can rocked, then slammed down onto the ground inches from TJ.'s face.

He drew a length of steel wire from a coil over his shoulder and reached closer, circling the dusty boots. In one sharp movement he jerked the coil, bringing the man down while he rolled free of the chopper and smashed down on his target's throat, cutting off his cry mid-breath.

He needn't have bothered. In the man's plunge to the ground, he had struck his head on the strut of the chopper. Now he lay prone, eyes closed. T.J. gagged and cuffed the motionless figure, then stood slowly.

Two more to go.

He swung his head, listening to the restless sounds of the night. A small animal skittered up the other side of the cottonwood trees. Probably a rabbit. A javelina would have a characteristically unpleasant odor at this distance, and no coyote would come so close to men.

TJ. swung the rifle to his shoulder and swept the hillside, picking up the green phosphorescent flare of a cigarette bobbing up the hill. He was inching closer when something broke hard through the scrub near the cliff base.

Then he heard Tess's broken scream.

R
un
.

Ignore the pain and run
.

She stumbled, hitting rocks and sand and bushes, her heart pumping in terror. A shout came from behind her, and she dodged beneath the thorny arms of a palo verde tree. A branch snapped at her face, clawing at her cheeks as she plunged furiously up the slope.

The ruins were somewhere before her. All she had to do was dodge her pursuers until she got there.

Frantic, Tess tried to remember where the path came in. Had it been beside the boulders at the wash or in front of the broken walls on the east? The memory was a blur.

She stopped, panting, bent double in pain as she tried to find the dark outline of the stone steps.

A bullet exploded beside her, burning through her shoulder and tearing a scream from her throat. Instantly, she heard the slam of running feet and knew she had only a second to make a choice.

Which way?

She summoned up the memory of that strange afternoon when she had stood in the shadow of the cliff walls, transported by images of an eerie past.

Remember
.

The shout came again. Tess stood shaking, certain if
she made the wrong choice, she would die there in the restless night.

Some instinct made her work one trembling hand into the front pocket of her jacket to grip die ancient piece of pottery.

She closed her eyes, concentrating, letting its heat fill her fingers.

Suddenly light flared, outlining the broken edge of the ancient stone walls. She raced forward, oblivious to the wild poppies, oblivious to die sharp thorns of a saguaro cactus that dug into her ankle. Ahead of her the light grew, flickering higher. She followed, half in a daze, her attention locked on the dancing glow as if it were a lifeline. Somehow Tess knew the steps were just before her, and driven by an instinct she could not name, she plunged through the darkness, tripping over debris and fallen bricks that seemed to be out of place. Another bullet flashed, ricocheting off the walls and shattering the stone in sharp fragments that burned against her skin.

She stumbled and fell to her knees on a flow of slip rock and gravel, gasping as she struck the hard outline of the lowest step. Without hesitating, she lurched forward in the darkness. Somewhere she heard the low drone of voices—and what almost sounded like drums.

An illusion. It was only her heart, slamming in terror.

Or perhaps it was the helicopter, motors whining as it prepared to take off.

She didn't stop to question the strange images. At the top of the uneven steps, she pressed her fingers to the ancient wall, following it higher. A few feet farther there would be a doorway. Somehow she knew this, just as she knew that beyond the door were three storerooms.

Though she couldn't see diem, somehow Tess knew they were there.

She gripped the clay shard tightly, feeling its heat against her palm.

A bullet cracked off the cliff wall, its angry ricochet bouncing among the towering stones. Boots clambered behind her as she found her way to the last room and huddled down in the darkness, curling her body into a tight, frozen ball.

Waiting.

He made no effort to be quiet He had lost one man and possibly two. The helicopter had plenty of fuel and he had a man to fly it, which meant he could always go to his backup plan.

But first he was going to find the woman. He had come too far to leave loose ends. He was actually looldng forward to dealing with Tess O'Mara^er all the trouble she had caused him.

She was right ahead of him now. He heard her feet on the narrow stairs that led to the ruin and raised his halogen light, outlining the ragged walls. Not many places to hide there. He would take his time, follow silently.

And then he would kill her.

Something drifted through the shadows behind him. He turned sharply and saw a shadow form near the underbrush. Probably another coyote. He'd seen too many since he'd come to this damned desert waste.

A howl rose from a boulder up the -trail A moment later the cry was echoed by another and then three more. The coyotes didn't frighten him. When a shape rose, silhouetted before him, he snapped off three buHets from
his high-power pistol, then smiled as the creature gave a sharp yelp and tumbled from the rock.

That would teach the damned things to get in his way.

While the pleasure of the kill still throbbed warmly, he made his way upward in the darkness.

He was coming.

Tess shrank back, crouching behind a low wall. It would hide her from a brief glance, but if he had a light, he would find her.

She cast a wild look around her, searching for a handhold or an opening she might have overlooked. Her mind seemed to hold a shadowy image, almost like a memory of an opening near the top of the rear wall, but in the darkness it was impossible to see.

Something brushed the wall behind her. Tess heard the whisper of an indrawn breath and flattened herself, holding her breath.

A form dropped into the darkness and plummeted against her chest. She was struggling blindly when callused fingers closed around her throat and clamped over her mouth. She heard nothing beyond the roar of her pulse, struggling, telling herself over and over that she had to hold out because TJ. would come.

“Tess, it's me.” His voice was a hiss, his mouth at her ear. “Stop fighting.”

Tess took two gulping breaths. “TJ.”

“Right here.”

She sank against him, shaky and trembling. There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask, but for the
moment only one mattered. ??“ What about the man coming up the steps?”