Operation: Midnight Escape

“Ah, Mr. Vanderpol.”

 

 

Rage and terror and a hundred other impotent emotions tore through him at the sound of Rasmussen’s voice. “You lay a hand on her and I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he ground out.

 

Rasmussen laughed. “Maybe I’ve already laid a hand on her. Maybe while you were playing secret agent, I was making up for six years of lost time.”

 

Jake’s heart beat madly in his chest, pumping fury to every cell in his body. He could hear himself breathing hard. He was conscious of Rick touching his arm, speaking to him, but he was so focused on Rasmussen he couldn’t comprehend the words.

 

“What do you want?” he managed after a moment.

 

“I want you to come to me, of course. I believe we have a score to settle.”

 

“Let me speak to Leigh.”

 

Static sounded, then Leigh’s voice filled the line. “Don’t do it, Jake! He’ll kill you!”

 

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did he hurt you?”

 

But it was Rasmussen’s voice that answered. “You have ten minutes to get here. I want you alone and unarmed. If I so much as mistake a deer for another agent, I will slit her throat. Do you understand?”

 

“I understand,” Jake said.

 

“Ten minutes, Mr. Vanderpol. If you don’t show, I will kill her, and you’ll be left to put all the pieces of her back together.”

 

“Don’t hurt her, damn it,” Jake snapped. “I’ll be there.”

 

“If you’re not here in—” he paused “—nine minutes, her blood will be on your hands.”

 

The phone went dead. Jake had already calculated how long it would take him to get across the lake. He’d have to push it to be there in nine minutes. “I have to go,” he heard himself say.

 

“Don’t you dare run off half-cocked, Vanderpol.” Rick followed him to the rear door.

 

When Jake didn’t stop, Rick reached out and grasped his shoulder, turned him around. “You can’t go alone.”

 

“If I don’t get there in nine minutes, that son of a bitch is going to kill her.”

 

“You know the rules, Vanderpol. No agent ever goes in without backup.”

 

Snarling an expletive, Jake tried to shake off the other man’s grip. “There’s no time for a plan.”

 

Rick maintained his grip. “I’ll improvise.”

 

Jake knew the other man was right. But it was his heart driving him now, not logic. The mere thought of Leigh with Rasmussen was enough to send him into a panic. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt.

 

Lifting the rifle strap over his shoulder, he set the weapon on the kitchen table. He removed his pistol holster, but slid the Glock into the waistband of his jeans. He knew enough about Rasmussen to know he was a liar. There was no way he was going to show up unarmed. He knew when he arrived Rasmussen would not only kill him, but he would kill Leigh, as well. Jake wasn’t going to let that happen.

 

Or die trying.

 

“Vanderpol, don’t go off the deep end, man. Come on. Stay with me.”

 

“If Rasmussen sees you, he’ll kill her,” he ground out.

 

“Then I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t see me.”

 

“How are you going to manage that? The snowmobiles aren’t exactly quiet. We have to assume he has Madrid’s night-vision goggles. He’ll spot you a mile away.”

 

“I’ll ditch the snowmobile when I get within ear-shot. Cover the rest of the distance on foot.”

 

It was as good a plan as they were going to come up with in thirty seconds. “Do it.” Jake started for the door. “Madrid was wearing a vest. Be advised that bastard has armor-piercing bullets. I’ve got to go.”

 

He sprinted to the shed and started the snowmobile. “I’ll try to draw Rasmussen out,” Jake said. “If I can’t get him outside, I’ll try to get him near a window.”

 

“If I can get off a shot, I’ll take him out,” Rick said.

 

Jake gassed the snowmobile. Rick jumped aside as Jake shot through the door. Then it was just him and Rasmussen and a life-or-death race against time.

 

LEIGH KNEW all too well what would happen if Jake showed, so she lunged for the phone. But one of the men grabbed her from behind, yanking her back.

 

“Don’t do it!” she yelled, hoping Jake could hear her. “He’ll kill you!”

 

But Rasmussen had already hit the end button. His expression was coldly amused when he turned to Leigh. “Loverboy is on his way, my love. I gave him ten minutes. Do you think he can make it?”

 

“I think you’re insane,” she said in a shaking voice.

 

Rasmussen looked at the man holding her. “Release her.”

 

Leigh scrambled away. “Where’s Mike Madrid?” she asked.

 

“Let’s just say a hollow-point bullet will penetrate even the most high-tech body armor.”

 

Remembering the blood, Leigh choked back a sob. She couldn’t believe this man whom she’d once known intimately could be so cold-blooded. How could she have been so wrong about him?

 

“What do you want with me?” she asked.