He blew out a final breath, ignoring his fiery throat, and launched himself into the light. He moved quickly, not caring that his scrambling dislodged rocks that tumbled and fell with soft plops into the snow below. The men were busy moving Gunnar. No time for gunplay in that precarious situation.
In only seconds he was across the kill zone. He scrambled up into the tree line and into shadow once more. He could feel cuts and scrapes burning his hands and face, but the satisfaction of reaching safety without a bullet whizzing past his head was its own kind of wonderful. He didn’t stop to celebrate. Once in the trees the ground was more solid, the canopy of limbs shielding it from a lot of the snow. Strangely enough, there seemed to be more light here. Snow clouds overhead reflected light back from metropolitan areas many miles away. It was almost like having a half-moon to guide him.
He scrambled up and on. He was going to beat those dickwads to their own getaway site.
He looked back only once, when he thought he again heard sirens. The mountains distorted and reflected sounds. He didn’t see a single rotating red light on the road below, but a pair of headlights was turning into the property.
Shit. Friend or foe? He really didn’t have time to figure that out.
He swung around and returned to climbing, determined to give those bastards the surprise of their life at the top of the road.
He almost let out a yelp of satisfaction when his fingers finally dug into a flat surface where gravel rolled beneath his fingers underneath the snow. He’d made it to the road. He hauled himself over the side and let the kick of adrenaline power him to his feet. The past two weeks of navigating the ski slopes gave him extra power in his arms and legs that had propelled him up the steep hillside. Even so, he was a bit wobbly for the first few steps. And then he veered left.
He didn’t see anything on the road ahead. No one was keeping watch. The dim, almost fairy light here was just enough to allow him to move confidently and quickly. Until he heard voices nearby. He paused. The men were just below him now. He could hear them arguing and cursing. Maybe that had something to do with the car that had pulled up in front of Yardley’s house.
Kye let his gaze range out to the parking lot. He saw a man step out of a dark automobile and then he heard that man’s voice over the loudspeaker say, “FBI. Surrender now or you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
Kye smiled. Maybe the sheriff had called in reinforcements. Or the doc.
But he wasn’t about to signal to the agent below and risk giving away his position. The FBI wouldn’t know him from the mercs. And he most positively did not want to be shot at if the men abducting Gunnar were stupid enough to fire on a federal agent. If they were smart, they’d just keep doing what they were doing. The FBI didn’t know where they were. With luck, they might get away before the FBI located them up on this ridge.
His work wasn’t done.
Kye pulled his weapon a second time. With all his old habits in full military police mode, he moved forward deliberately toward his planned destination.
He moved only a few yards forward before he saw the vehicle. He wouldn’t have known it was there if he hadn’t been searching for it. It was big all-terrain truck but painted flat black so that no light bounced off it. No shiny surfaces. Even the lights must have been coated with Veil. These men were hard-core.
He moved into the shadow on the other side of the truck as the men began topping the slope onto the road. He could barely see them. In the diffuse light they looked more like twin golems crawling out of a place in Middle Earth.
Kye waited, heart hammering in a thick steady cadence for the moment when both armed men would be most vulnerable.
Purdy came first. Kye recognized him by his voice.
“Boost the package. Higher. Fuck.” When Gunnar’s head appeared over the edge of the ridge, Purdy bent to drag the man up onto the road by his armpits.
Kye stepped out from behind the truck, keeping the hood between him and his prey. Gun double-fisted for accuracy. “Hold it right there, Purdy.”
“Shit.” Purdy dropped Gunnar like a hot potato and went for his gun. Of course, Purdy couldn’t see that he held a gun.
“Don’t move. I’m armed.”
“I am, too, you son of a bitch.” The dull gleam of a barrel appeared in Purdy’s hand, aiming downward. “Move and I’ll blow the doctor’s head off.”
“That won’t save you.”
The crunch of someone coming toward them jerked both of their attention toward the road in front of them.
As crazy as it seemed, all Kye could think of as an explanation was that Yardley had somehow—impossibly—found them.
He yelled a warning and raised his gun to fire just as light exploded from the end of Purdy’s pistol. Only then did he hear it. The low grinding growl of a wolf who’d found its prey. A streak of something dark gray crossed his vision at chest level and then Purdy screamed and fell over backward.