The delay had given Jane time to formulate Faxs cover and arrange to have him locked up in the same prison as the terrorist leader and his two lieutenants. Shed turned Faxs honorable military discharge into a dishonorable ousting, cast him in the role of anarchist, invoked the USA PATRIOT Act and held him without trial, making him that much more attractive to an anti-American bastard like al-Jihad.
And thus, an unholy alliance had been born, right on schedule.
In person, the terrorist leader was tall, thin and angular, and graceful enough in his movements that he almost appeared effeteexcept for his eyes, which were those of a killer.
From reading the available reports, Fax had known that al-Jihad would be a smart, driven, dangerous man. Meeting him in the flesh had reinforced that impression and added a new realization: the bastard wasnt just dangerous; he was completely without a conscience when it came to killing Americans. Worse, he enjoyed the hell out of it.
That put Fax in an even more tenuous position than hed anticipated, making it a seriously bad idea to draw attention. Yet that was just what he was risking if he fought too hard to save the pretty medical examiner from becoming part of the collateral damage.
Boss? Lee said plaintively, looking at the passengers seat of the van, where al-Jihad sat silent and square-shouldered.
The terrorist leader sent his follower a dark look that all but said get a spine, yet he said nothing.
Muhammad aimed a kick at Lee and growled, Get in the damn van. He jerked his chin at Fax. You, too. And bring the woman. Well need a hostage if things get sticky on the way out.
The original plan had been for Rickey Charleswhom al-Jihad had somehow contacted and bribedto cover the switch for as long as possible, giving them time to get well away. In the absence of that help, their window of opportunity to escape cleanly was closing fast.
But Fax bit off the protest, knowing he was already on tenuous footing with the terrorists.
The only reason he was there at all was because hed developed the contact for the death-mimicking drugs theyd needed to get on the meat wagon. Hed contacted al-Jihad through a Byzantine trail of notes hidden in the few common areas the prisoners were given access to, one at a time. Hed offered the drug in exchange for a place within al-Jihads terror cell, and the plan had been born.
Frankly, he was somewhat surprised they hadnt tried to kill him yet, now that they were outside the prison walls. That they hadnt tried to off him indicated that they still had some use for him, but he had a feeling that amnesty wouldnt last long if he started arguing orders.
Shes acceptable collateral damage, he told himself, and went back for the woman.
Damned if she didnt stir a little and curl into him when he picked her up and held her against his chest. Surprised, he looked down.
She had dark, chestnut-highlighted hair and faint freckles visible through a fading summer tan. Her cheeks and lips were full, her chin softly rounded, and her nose turned up slightly at the end, giving her an almost childlike, vulnerable air. But there was nothing childlike about the curves that pressed against him, and there was sure as hell nothing juvenile about the unexpected surge of lust that slammed into him when she shifted and turned her face into his neck, so her hair tickled the edge of his ear and feathered across the sensitive skin beneath his jaw.
Move your ass, Lee snapped from inside the van.
Muhammad finished disabling the vehicles state-issued GPS locator and got in the drivers seat, then gunned the engine to warn Fax that he was running out of time.
Sometimes its necessary to sacrifice a few to save the rest, Fax reminded himself. Still, his stomach twisted in a sick ball as he slung the woman through the side door of the vehicle, so she landed near her dead friend, whose corpse was stacked with two of the guards bodies. The other two bodies were still on the gurneys, one of which was jammed in at an angle where Lee had shoved it in after their escape plan had blown up in their faces.
Even without Rickey Charles, they mightve bluffed their way through the body transfer and talked the woman into signing off without confirming the identities of the corpses, but once Lee killed the morgue attendant, even that slim chance had disappeared.
Their escape could get real messy real quick, Fax knew. Problem was, he needed them to get free so the terrorists would reach out to their contacts and plan their next move.
Which meant the womans lifeand his own, for that matterwere expendable in the grand scheme of things.
Hating the necessity more than he wouldve expected to, he jumped into the van and rolled the side door closed just as Muhammad hit the gas and the van peeled away from the MEs office.
The four men braced to hear the alarm raised any second, to see pursuit behind them. But there was no alarm, no pursuit as al-Jihads second in command navigated the city streets of Bear Claw.
Fax noted that they were heading roughly northward, back in the direction of the prison rather than away, but he didnt ask why, didnt even let on that hed noticed or even cared. He simply filed the information, and hoped like hell hed have a chance to get it to Jane before al-Jihad and the others decided hed outlived his usefulness.
Maybe five miles outside the city limits, well down a deserted road that wound through the state forest, Muhammad pulled off into a small parking lot that served a trailhead leading into the wilderness.
Al-Jihad, who was still riding shotgun, turned to Lee and Fax, and said in his dead, inflectionless voice, Kill the woman and dump all of the bodies in the canyon. We wont need them where were going.
Which is where? Fax wanted to ask but didnt because he knew the game too well. The more he followed orders without question, the longer he would live, and the more information hed gain about the structure of al-Jihads network inside the U.S.
So instead of asking the questions he wanted answered, he nodded and rolled open the side door, then waited while Lee climbed out. When the other man turned back, Fax shoved one of the body bags at him.
Lee caught the dead guard and nearly went down. Watch it! he snapped, glaring at Fax.
Sorry, Fax said with little remorse, having already figured out that al-Jihad and Muhammad liked the fact that he didnt let the lemming push him around. Jerking his chin in the direction of the trailhead, he said, Ill be right behind you.
Lee muttered something under his breath, but slung the body bag over his shoulder in a firemans carry, and headed off into the woods, struggling only slightly under his burden.
Hyperaware of the scrutiny he was receiving from the two men in the front of the van, Fax reached down for the woman, his mind spinning as he desperately tried to figure out a way to keep her alive while protecting his cover.
He didnt know her name, but somehow shed become the symbol of all the warm, civilized things hed dreamed of from the confines of his cell, all the beauty and laughter he lived in the darkness to protect.
Jane might be his boss and sometimes lover, but the pretty medical examiner was a real person, one who belonged in the sunlight, not the shadows.
Hefting her over his shoulder, he turned and headed into the forest in Lees wake. Once he was out of earshot, he said under his breath, I know youre awake. Dont do anything stupid and you might live to see our backs.
CHELSEA STIFFENED at the sound of his voice, but was too terrified to process his words. The only reason she wasnt already screaming was because she was too damn scared to breathe. That, and she was pretty sure there was nobody nearby to hear except the escaped convicts, who would probably enjoy her terror. So she kept the panic inside, save for the tears that leaked from beneath her screwed-shut eyelids.
She couldnt believe shed been kidnapped, couldnt believe that the blue-eyed guardor rather, the blue-eyed escaped convictshed been ogling on the loading dock was carrying her into the state forest, acting on a terrorists orders to kill her and dump her in Bear Claw Canyon.
Things like that just didnt happen to small-scale people like her.
She wouldve thought it was all a dream, a nightmare, except that the sensations were too real: her head pounded from the blow thatd knocked her unconscious, her tears were cool on her cheeks, and the mans shoulder dug into her belly as he carried her along the path. Opening her eyes, she saw that what shed figured were signs of recent muscle gain were actually places where his uniform didnt fit; the material gapped at the small of his back, where hed tucked the guards weapon into his belt.
WWJBD? She knew she should struggle, she should try to escape, but when? Now or after they reached their destination? What were the chances she could grab that gun and turn the tables?
Dont, he warned in a low voice.
Before she could respond, or act, or do anything, really, she heard another mans voice from up ahead, saying, I found a cave. Dump her and put a bullet in her. Ill go get another load.
The mans voice was casual, careless, like he was talking about things rather than people. But to him she and the others were things, she realized. They were Americans. The enemy. Yet the speaker was blond, and his voice carried a trace of a Boston accent. She wouldve passed him on the street and never once thought to wonder about him.
Vaguely, she remembered a snippet of newscast thatd said one of the three escapees, Lee Mawadi, was a homegrown terrorist whod hooked up with al-Jihad for the Santa Bombings.
Back then, sitting safe in her living room, terrorism had been an abstract concept, something she saw on TV and exclaimed over while secretly thinking that such things would never happen to her. She hadnt even been in Colorado during the Santa Bombings; shed been finishing a nice, safe rotation in a private practice outside Chicago, reveling in the early stages of a relationship shed thought was The One, but had turned out to be another Not Quite.
Now, though, she was all alone, with terror her only companion.
Sounds good to me, the man carrying her said, his voice easy as he agreed to the plan of shooting her and dumping her in the cave.
But his touch, while firm, was disconcertingly gentle and hed hinted at the possibility that she might live. Did that mean he had a soft spot for her because of their shared look out by the loading dock? Would he somehow prove to be an ally?
Get a grip, her inner voice of practicality snapped. Hes a murderer.
If the other speaker was Lee Mawadi, then the blue-eyed man shed shared a long look with must be Jonah Fairfax. That meant he hadnt been part of the Santa Bombings, but it didnt make him innocent or safe. The ARX Supermax didnt cater to white-collar criminals, and Fairfax had been jailed for torturing and murdering two of the FBI agents sent to infiltrate the anarchist camp hed been a member of.
Yet hed made it sound like he wanted to save her somehow. It made no sense.
When footsteps warned that the other manLee Mawadiwas passing them on the trail, Chelsea screwed her eyes shut. Moments later, the sunlight beyond her eyelids cut to black and the echoes told her that theyd entered the cave hed spoken of.
The blue-eyed manFairfaxflipped her off his shoulder without warning, then caught her before she could slam to the ground. She kept her eyes shut as he lowered her so she was half propped up against a rock wall. She could feel him crouch over her, leaning close and blocking any hope of escape.
I need you to stop playing dead and listen very carefully, he said, his voice low and urgent. I think I can get you out of this, but youre going to have to trust me.
She opened her eyes at that, and nearly screamed when she saw that hed put her down right next to one of the body bags. Worse, it was open, revealing one of the dead guards, shirtless, his eyes open and staring in death.
She held in the scream, but plastered herself against the rock wall, her quick, panicked breaths rattling in her lungs.
Look at me. The blue-eyed man touched her chin and turned her head toward him. Dont scream and dont move. Lee is going to be back in a minute, so weve got to work fast. He paused as though gauging her. I need to get something out of my shoe. Can I trust you not to try to run?
She nodded quickly, though she didnt mean it. The second an opportunity presented, she was so out of there.
He gave her another, longer look. Yeah. Thats what I thought. As though hed read her mind, he stayed between her and the mouth of the cave, which was little more than a crevice in the rock, probably part of the canyon thatd been pushed up and over ground level by a long-ago glacier or earth shift, or maybe even one of the recent landslides.
Fairfax worked at his right shoe for a moment and came up with a small ampoule of pale yellow liquid. He crowded close to her, leaving no room for retreat or escape. This is going to knock you out and depress your vitals so far that itll look like youre dead, but you wont be. Youll come around in twelve hours or so, and well be long gone.
Then, before she could react, before she could protest, or scream, or any of the other things she knew she damn well ought to do, hed broken off the tip of the ampoule, jammed the needle-point end into her upper arm, and squeezed the yellow liquid into her.
Pain flared at the injection site, hard and hot.
She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. She struggled to stand up and run, but her legs wouldnt obey. Her muscles turned to gelatin and she started sliding sideways, and this time Fairfax didnt catch her or break her fall.
She heard him stand, heard a weapons action being racked in preparation for firing. Then there was a single gunshot.
Then nothing.
FAX KNEW HE didnt have much time, if any. He went to his knees beside the body bag containing the dead guard, whom hed just shot. Pressing his hand against the wound, he got as much cool blood as he could from the dead man, and slathered it across the unconscious womans face, concentrating on the hair above her temple.
When he heard footsteps at the entrance to the cave, he readjusted the body bag and wiped off his hands on part of the womans coat, then tucked the stained section beneath her before he stood.
Feigning nonchalance, he put the safety on his gun and stuck the weapon in his waistband before he turned toward Lee, hoping like hell the lemming wouldnt notice that the blood on the woman wasnt exactly fresh.
Only the newcomer wasnt Lee. It was al-Jihad himself.
The terrorist leader stood silhouetted at the cave mouth, a lean, dark figure whose presence was significantly larger than his physical self.