Lost in Shadows (21 page)

“We can’t,” KC told him. “Our friend,” she nodded to The Preacher, “destroyed the radio equipment here and the helicopter’s unsalvageable.”

Chase frowned as if trying to remember. “Oh, yeah.” He looked up at Lucky. “Some rescue mission, eh?”

“Typical Westin style, guns a-blazing like a John Wayne movie.” Lucky didn’t tell his friend that if Chase hadn’t shown up when he did, he and Vinnie might have The Preacher and his men taken care of. Might have. “Thanks pal.”

“No problem.” Chase’s eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, then opened again. “It’s cold in here, can’t you turn up the heat?”

“It’s shock,” Vinnie said. “We can’t wait much longer.” She stood at the foot of the bed. “KC, can you hold his arms, keep him still?” 

KC nodded, leaning down to whisper something in Chase’s ear that Lucky couldn’t hear. 

“Lucky, I need you to hold his thigh, pull against me, but you have to be ready to stop as soon as I tell you.”

Lucky turned so that his back was to Chase and got into position.

“I’m sorry, Chase,” Vinnie said, her hands hovering over Chase’s ankle. “I don’t have any pain medicine.”

“S’all right,” Chase said. “Just make it fast.”

“Yes sir.” Vinnie removed the plastic bag of snow she had used to numb the leg. 

Lucky winced when he saw the sharp, unnatural angle in the bones a few inches above the ankle. The skin was so taut, it was a wonder the edges of bone didn’t poke right through. Not that he had any desire to see that. 

He swallowed hard and circled his hands around Chase’s meaty thigh, just above the knee. He locked his gaze on Vinnie’s face, waiting for her command.

Her hands looked so tiny as they grasped the purple, swollen flesh below the fracture. But once she grabbed hold she moved in one confident, swift motion. She tugged against the resistance Lucky gave her, putting traction on the leg, redirecting the bones into alignment.

Chase’s other leg kicked out away from Vinnie, and Lucky could feel him strain against KC’s weight on his chest. He exhaled loudly, then as Lucky felt the bones grind together, a cry of pain escaped from Chase before he went limp. 

Vinnie kept pulling. Lucky was surprised to see the color actually start to return to the leg. She nodded to him and gently lowered Chase’s foot onto a stack of blankets. She checked his pulse and smiled in satisfaction. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, and Lucky couldn’t resist reaching out to brush them away before they fell into her eyes.

“Nice work,” he told her. 

“Thanks.” She replaced the bag of snow.

“That was nothing,” The Preacher’s unwanted voice taunted them from the corner. “You all should have heard Agent Cavanaugh scream when he came to visit me on Christmas Eve. Bet you lost your voice for a week after that.”

Lucky took a step toward the corner but KC, on that side of the bed already, beat him to it. She had her Glock aimed at The Preacher’s temple. As she chambered a round the click echoed through the silent room. 

“I warned you,” she said, her voice serious and deadly, not a voice that any sane person would ignore. “You want to die now? I don’t really care if you are an unarmed prisoner. See, I don’t have a code of honor like Chase and Lucky. I grew up on the streets and I know how to deal with cockroaches like you.”

The Preacher tilted his head back so that he could meet KC’s eyes, daring her to pull the trigger. 

Lucky saw hate in her eyes and knew she had spoken the truth. In many ways, KC was more dangerous than either he or Chase. She would kill to protect the ones she loved without thinking about the rules of engagement or the ethics or even what laws she might break. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t have a conscience, just that she was bound by her own rules, which was the main reason the FBI had fired her after what happened last month.

But Lucky also knew the price to be paid after taking such lethal action. He moved across the room and gently drew her hand back, away from The Preacher’s smiling countenance. “He’s not worth it, KC.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, merely lowered her weapon and walked out of the room. A few moments later he heard the front door close behind her.

Vinnie stared at him with wide eyes. Then she turned back to the task of securing the splint.

“Can’t you gag him?” she asked as she worked. “I have some old socks I’ll contribute to the cause.”

“Might come to that,” Lucky muttered. 

He’d rather get The Preacher talking more about his plans for tomorrow. The data on the hard drive was by no means complete. Lucky was certain there was more to learn from the militia leader. Vinnie turned to him, looked at him with an appraising glance.

“Your arm is worse,” she said, reaching up to slide his jacket away from his shoulders.

“It’s fine,” he said, trying to pull away. It was useless. 

She took the jacket from him, sat him beside the fire, and helped him off with his shirts. Her dressing was still secure and there was no new bleeding, but everywhere she touched pain shot through his arm. And he’d noticed that he couldn’t raise it easily above his waist, it had been a struggle to keep hold of Chase’s leg earlier.

“You shouldn’t be using it. I think your AC joint is totally torn.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” he said, squirming under her attentions. 

She found several new abrasions on his face and arms, probably from the shards of limestone that had ricocheted at him during the firefight. He was surprised by how long ago that seemed. He tried to hold still while she cleaned them, not liking the distant look in her face. 

The same look she had had after they first met and she decided to guide him out of the wilderness. Finally, he took her hands and tugged her into his lap.

She was so close that he could smell her sweat, her fear. He glanced past her to where The Preacher sat with his back to them and lowered his forehead to touch hers so that they were scant inches apart. 

“I’m not Michael,” he whispered, his hands tightening on hers. “We’re going to get out of this. I promise.”

Instead of comforting her, his words seemed to force her farther away from him. She gave a small nod and slipped away from him, moving into the other room.

 Despite the heat from the fire, Lucky felt as if she had abandoned him to a frozen wasteland. Damn it, should have never brought up Michael. Why was it the ghost of her husband couldn’t stay dead and buried in her past? 

He shook his head at his own foolishness. Michael was more than just Vinnie’s past, part of her heart had died with him. 

But Lucky was certain that she had a heart big enough to share with two men, if she would just open herself to him. Just as he was certain that Vinnie held the key necessary to heal his own wounded heart, to give him hope again.

“The girls go out shopping?” Chase’s voice, weary but strong, came from the bed.

“You okay?” Lucky turned back to the bed as he shrugged into his shirt. 

“Felt better.” Chase nodded to the dressing on Lucky’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“Just a little lead poisoning. How long you think before they,” Lucky jerked his head at The Preacher, “get up here?”

Chase winced, and Lucky didn’t think it was from pain. Rather from the thought that his mission here had been a failure. Chase Westin wasn’t accustomed to failing and was a poor loser, Lucky knew from first-hand experience. “Morning at the latest.”

Lucky figured as much. “Okay, then. Time for Plan B.”

Vinnie found KC outside in the clearing, searching the corpses of The Preacher’s fallen men. Stacked beside her was a small cache of weapons, ammunition and personal gear.

Vinnie joined her as she performed the gruesome task. The helicopter sat at the edge of the clearing, a ghostly black hulk against the snow, a creature from a Salvador Dali nightmare. 

The sky was clear and stars flickered overhead, their light mingling with the pale illumination of the quarter moon. The woods were silent, more silent than Vinnie had ever heard them in all the years she had lived on the mountain. She shivered despite the down vest she wore, felt as if many unseen eyes were focused on her.

Waiting to pounce, to finish the job they had started last night.

“No ID,” KC said, from her position crouched in the snow beside the corpse. “But a few magazines of ammunition and seven more weapons. At least we’ll go down fighting.”

“I have an idea.” Vinnie hesitated. She was the amateur here, this was so clearly out of her area of expertise.

KC sat back on her heels and met her gaze. “You know the territory better than anyone, don’t be bashful about sharing any suggestions you have.”

“We need to get both Chase and Lucky medical attention. And I have the hard drive with the information about The Preacher’s plans on it. I can make it to the bottom of the mountain, get help before morning if I leave now.”

KC raised an eyebrow at that. “In over two feet of snow? With The Preacher’s men heading up the mountain anytime?”

Vinnie bit her lip. Maybe this was a mistake. But it was the only way they would have a chance. Anyone could see that no matter how much ammunition KC scrounged from dead men, sooner or later they would be overwhelmed by The Preacher’s men.

“Cross country skis—I’ve done it before in worse conditions.” She fluttered her fingers through the soft, freshly fallen powder. “I can avoid The Preacher’s men, they’ll be staying close to the road.”

Vinnie’s doubts were set aside as a slow smile spread across KC’s face and she nodded her approval. “How many pairs of skis do you have?”

“Two, but neither Chase nor Lucky—”

“The guys will just have to bach it,” KC said. “You’ll need someone to watch your back. I just wish there was a way we could take The Preacher with us. Hate the thought of him playing mind games with the boys all night.”

“It might be best to leave him here. In case they run out of time and need a hostage to negotiate with.”

“Right.” KC rolled to her feet without using her hands and reached down to help Vinnie up. “I like how you think, Vinnie. Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

CHAPTER 32

Lucky heard the women return and went to join them in the kitchen. They deposited a load of weapons and magazines onto the table and shed their outerwear. 

KC aimed a mysterious smile at Vinnie before she moved past him to join Chase in the bedroom. One of those woman-with-a-secret kind of smiles that his sister used to drive him crazy with.

“What was that about?” he asked.

Saying nothing, Vinnie lit the propane stove and set a cast iron skillet to heat while she pulled eggs and sausage from her miniature refrigerator.

“Chase and I have been talking,” Lucky told her, watching her move as she prepared dinner. God, the woman even made cracking an egg look sexy. She broke two simultaneously in one hand with a graceful movement of her wrist. “We’ve come up with a few options.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. Fire surged below his belt at the sight of the delicate curve of her neck. 

A short time ago she’d been close to death, had risked her own life, and now she was cooking him eggs. Christ if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. 

Focus, he told himself, shifting his weight, trying in vain to ease the pressure building inside him.

“Option one would be you and KC heading into the cave where you can protect the hard drive.” He paused, judging her mood and trying to not sound as if he and Chase were merely interested in protecting the women. 

Why should they all die? At least this way someone could get the information to Rose Prospero and the others.

The sound of a chair being over turned in the other room had him on his feet, Taurus in his hand. Vinnie froze, spatula mid-air, then smiled as KC’s voice echoed from the back room. 

“You’re an idiot, Chase Westin! There’s no way in hell I’m going to hide out in some dirty, stinking cave, so just forget it.”

“I think option one has been vetoed.” Vinnie returned to her cooking. The delectable aroma made Lucky’s mind spin, he almost forgot what he was saying.

“Okay, then it’ll be you and me in the cave.”

That got her attention. She whirled on him. The possibilities of a spatula as a deadly weapon occurred to him as fury sparked in her eyes. 

KC appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, and Vinnie lowered the spatula.

“I’ve got mine on board,” KC said, sauntering over to sniff at the smoking skillet. “How ‘bout yours?” 

The two women stood hip to hip, arms crossed akimbo, staring at Lucky. He met their gazes, feeling like maybe he and Chase should have come up with a better way to do this.

“City boy,” Vinnie said to KC, jerking her head at Lucky. “He’s too busy trying to tell me what to do to listen to what I have to say.”

“What do you want to say?” Lucky asked. 

How was he supposed to know she had a plan of her own? But then again, ever since the moment he’d first met her, Vinnie always had a plan of her own. 

Maybe it was hunger, muddling his thought processes. Or almost getting killed, getting shot at, watching Vinnie and his best friends almost get blown up, being trapped in a cabin with the man who killed him last month—take your pick.