Operation: Midnight Tango

“What’s happening to them?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

 

He turned his gaze to hers. She saw a weariness that hadn’t been there before and wondered about its source. “Horrors you can only imagine in your worst nightmares,” he said.

 

Emily stared at him, aware that she was frightened. And that the fear didn’t have anything to do with the man standing so close she could see the stubble on his cheek. Deep inside she knew that despite whatever this man might have done, he was not lying about Lockdown, Inc.

 

“Who are you?” she asked.

 

“I’m the man who’s going to try to save your life, if you’ll let me.”

 

“You’re a dangerous fugitive. You’ve taken me hostage—”

 

“And you’d be dead right now if I hadn’t gotten you out of there.”

 

“You can’t possibly know that.”

 

“They would have killed you the same way they’ve killed countless others in the last six months.”

 

Looking suddenly tired, he raised his hand and touched the cut on his temple. His lips pulled into a frown when his fingertips came away red. He wiped it on his slacks and looked around. “Look, we need to put some distance between us and that prison. Then we need to find shelter. I have a feeling the weather is going to get worse before it gets any better.”

 

“I deserve an explanation.”

 

“You deserve to stay alive.” He turned to her, his expression tense. “They’re probably putting together a search team as we speak.”

 

“No professional in his right mind would send out search teams in this storm.”

 

“No, but a madman would. The people at Lockdown, Inc. have too much at stake to let us get away.”

 

“You keep using the term us,” Emily choked out. “Unless you have a mouse in your pock—”

 

“Like it or not, you are now on Lockdown, Inc.’s most-wanted list. Your only chance of coming out of this alive is to stick with me. If the storm doesn’t get too much worse, we might be able to outdistance them. Then maybe I can get us some help.”

 

“Help from whom?”

 

He looked away, his jaw flexing, as if her question had more ramifications than she’d intended. “We’ve got to go,” he said. “In another hour there may not be any visibility at all.” He shot her a look that made the hair at her nape prickle. “That’s the best-case scenario, Emily. If the weather improves, this area is going to be crawling with heavily armed cops with itchy trigger fingers. If they get their hands on us, we’re going to wish we hadn’t survived the plunge off that cliff.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Zack tried to restart the snowmobile, but the tumble down the cliff had damaged both the track shoes and the engine. After wasting precious minutes, he abandoned the idea and he and Emily set off on foot.

 

It didn’t take long for him to realize that neither of them was dressed for hiking in severe weather conditions. No hats. No gloves. No waterproof boots. It would be only a matter of time before the cold took its toll in the form of frostbite or hypothermia. Two problems Zack figured they could do without considering the mountain was swarming with armed men bent on killing them.

 

“What the hell else can possibly go wrong?” he muttered as he trudged through knee-deep snow.

 

“Mother Nature could always make things a little more interesting.”

 

Zack shot Emily a sour look, annoyed because she was right. In the last hour the wind had picked up, whistling through the treetops like a thousand teakettles. The snow was coming down sideways. His ears were cold. His feet were numb. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was pretty sure they were lost.

 

He’d memorized the map given to him by his superior at MIDNIGHT as he’d prepared for the mission. Avery Shaw had made certain Zack had had everything he needed for the operation. Maps of the prison. Terrain maps of the surrounding area. Background reports on Lockdown, Inc.’s employees and inmates.

 

A bloody lot of good those things were doing him when he couldn’t see but a few feet in front of his face.

 

But Zack knew most storms in this part of Idaho blew in from the northwest. He and Emily were heading into the wind, so he could assume they were heading northwest. He recalled seeing a notation on the map that there was an abandoned ski lodge somewhere in the area. It had been popular back in the 1960s but later abandoned. Hopefully the old place was still standing. If he and Emily were really lucky, there would be no welcoming committee from Lockdown, Inc. waiting to gun them down.

 

A few feet away he could see Emily struggling through the wind and deep snow. Even though she seemed to be in relatively good physical condition, she was smaller and suffering from a bullet wound. He could only imagine how grueling this was for her.

 

“I think there’s an old ski lodge ahead,” he shouted to be heard above the roar of the wind.

 

Through the driving snow he saw her glance his way. “You mean the old Capello Hills Lodge?”