Sam followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed her pack. “I’m the target of a witch hunt.”
“No, you’re the target of a Mage hunt.” He rubbed a hand over his chin, lines of tension bracketing his mouth. “Look, Kel, lie low. Stay out of sight.”
“I promised my team I’d get those kids out of Honduras. I won’t break a promise.”
Sam touched her cheek. “I don’t break promises, either. And I made one to you, long ago. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe, Kelly Denning. You know what they’ll do to you.”
His jaw tensed to granite.
She knew what he meant. The gray, lonely asylum where many Arcanes had been confined…those thought to be seditious and deemed a danger to Mage society. Locked away behind bars…
Never. I’ll die first.
“Your team can save them, Sam. Talk to your commander, have him send a team of SEALs to rescue the children.”
His expression shuttered. “He’d have to go through proper channels and first determine Elemental children are missing.”
Red tape, delays. “It would take too long.”
“There are rules. We have to work within the system.” Sam lightly gripped her shoulders. “I’m more concerned about you.”
She was alone. Kelly’s throat tightened.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. I need you to convince your superiors of the truth.”
Someone banged hard on the front door. Kelly jumped. Blue and red lights flashed outside, stroking over the bushes and the house next door. He muttered a curse.
“I knew Tom wouldn’t let this go.”
Another hard pounding. “Chief Shaymore, open up,” a deep voice called out. “I’m with the security division of the Council of Mages. We need to question you about Kelly Denning.”
Sam snagged a set of keys from a peg in the kitchen. “I’ll hold them off. Take the trail in the woods out back. It leads to a side road. We have a car stashed for emergencies. Get on the interstate and don’t stop. Stay at a friend’s house and stay low until the political burn wears off.”
She took the keys, her fingers brushing his. “Thanks, Sam. But you know I can’t stay low. If you won’t help me, I’ll go it alone to Honduras. If there’s a chance they’re still alive, I’ll take it.”
He turned away, his broad shoulders a brick wall. “Don’t leave the country, Kelly. Because if they send me after you, I will be forced to do what I must.”
A man filled with resolve, his deep voice stating every word with hard conviction. Kelly drew in a breath.
“Stay safe, Sam.” The knife in her heart twisted hard. “Don’t come after me unless you plan to help. Because I will be forced to do what I must.”
As he went to the front door, she slipped out the back, heading into the cover of night. Putting distance between the man she’d once loved fiercely, and feeling the aching regret that they’d lost something precious and wonderful. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
Never again.
Leaving the country when you were a suspected kidnapper was easy enough, if you were a Mage who could shape-shift.
Homeland Security took a look at her fake passport, glanced at the gray-haired woman with the sour face, and nodded her through. No Mages stalked her. The flight was uneventful, aside from the landing. Years of travel to Honduras had conditioned her to the wild corkscrew landings the skilled pilots executed to avoid the rugged mountains ringing Tegucigalpa.
After getting her luggage from the crowded carousel, she headed for the restroom and used magick to change back her appearance.
Kelly inserted the international SIM card she’d bought into her cell phone and made a call to the Council of Mages. A bored man answered.
“This is Kelly Denning. I’m in Honduras. Tell those stuffed shirts if they want me, they’ll have to get off their fat butts and find me.”
Envisioning his stunned look, she laughed and thumbed off the connection.
When Sam’s team arrived, she’d convince them to find the missing children. The SEALs stood as the only neutral force able to stop a full-scale war between Elementals and Arcanes.
Risking her life was worth it to save those of her people, and Sam’s.
Weighing the cell in her palm, she considered the gamble. What if they simply chose to haul her back to the States? Brought her into Mage custody, where she’d suffer an “accident?” Oops, didn’t mean to discharge enough power to fry a city block.
Sam wouldn’t allow it. Another gamble.
Nausea boiled in her throat. Once he’d been insouciant and spontaneous. Now he’d turned into a man she no longer recognized.
A blast of humid air encased her as she went outside. The warm breeze ruffled her turquoise silk shirt and teased tendrils of hair escaping her ponytail. Kelly flagged down a cab and gave precise directions in Spanish.
The black-haired driver looked at her. “Señorita? You sure you want that house, that neighborhood?”
“Positive.”
As he pulled into traffic, he glanced in the mirror, his dark gaze somber. “It is dangerous there. Even for one filled with magick.”
Kelly went still. The driver pulled down his shirt collar. His skin had been branded with a dark red circle with a slash through it.
The mark of an Arcane branded for subversion.
“You’re one of us,” the driver whispered. “I sensed it when you asked to visit that neighborhood. Many Arcanes live there.”
Not letting down her guard, she shrugged. “I know someone there. A friend.”
“You are one of us.”
At a red light, he turned. “You need not be afraid. Are you here to find refuge? Many of our people have moved here to hide.”
“I’m here to visit a friend,” she repeated.
The man’s mouth flattened. “Elementals have pushed our people into dark and dangerous corners. No place is safe from their influence. One day we will be free from their kind, and they will know the same suffering they forced upon us.”
Seditious talk, the type that landed Arcanes in prison. She hesitated.
“It’s misguided to judge an entire race by the actions of a few and ignore the ones who are kind, good and courageous.”
The driver snorted. “All Elementals are bloodsucking scum who think themselves superior. They demean us because we have no power. But they are fools, for some of us are more powerful than they realize.”
True. Kelly fingered the triskele, feeling the metal warm beneath her touch.
Buildings passed by in a blur as her heart pounded hard against her chest. Headed into heartache again. She knew what she’d find. Rubbing a spot on the window, she stared outside, seeing nothing.
The taxi jerked to a halt midway down a steep hill. Kelly started. Gray water gushed down a gutter before an aging brick building.
“I can wait for you,” the cabbie said.
“No need.” She wanted out of the cab quickly. Something about the driver raised her suspicions.
When she stepped out, rucksack slung over one shoulder, he drove off slowly. Kelly shivered in the light rain.
The hallway was long, dark and eerie. Water dripped from a leaky roof. Once the hall had been white, but now paint flaked off like confetti. A woman opened her door, peered out and slammed it shut. Kelly shouldered her pack and stepped into a square courtyard. On each side were two doors leading to apartments. Rain fell steadily onto the stained concrete courtyard. Sagging plants in cracked flowerpots were scattered about the ground in an attempt to provide color. Clothing hung on a wire strung between the two buildings, someone’s laundry forgotten in the rainstorm.
She went to the turquoise door on the left and knocked softly. Two solid raps, then a succession of three.
Hilda opened the door.
Kelly gave the small, dark-haired woman a tight hug. “How is he?”
Moisture gathered in the woman’s brown eyes. “Holding his own,” she whispered in English. “But you know what will happen…”
The home was small, with peeling yellow paint. Rain dripped in a steady patter on the tin roof and into a pot near the door as Kelly stepped inside. On a double bed crammed against one faded wall was a man hooked up to a catheter. He was thin and pale, his eyes closed as he rested on a worn pillow.
She could not heal him. No one could. The knife in her heart twisted with a vicious yank.
But when Kelly approached the bed, the man opened his eyes. Life flared there, bright and angry and resilient.
“Fernando,” she said softly, setting down her pack and sitting on the chair by the bedside. She gently took his hand. So thin, the knuckles cracked, the once-strong fingers now weakened from disuse.
“You came back. I knew you would. Everyone else has forgotten us.”
“Not forgotten. They’re in hiding. I broke free of the watchdogs.” She gave a little smile, her heart breaking at his pale face, the wasted limbs. “You and Hilda must move to a safer house, a better house.”
Hilda shook her head. “We cannot risk moving him. And this is our home. Fernando wants to stay here, he wants to…”
Bleak resignation on her face told her the rest.
“Enough talk of me.” The man tapped the piece of paper he held in his lap. “Memorize the map. The village is in the south. They mobilized and moved the children and have taken over. My contact said the rogue Arcanes are waiting to siphon the children’s powers.”
“Waiting for their leader to arrive?”
“Yes, but Something else, as well. They are planning something bigger, Kelly. Something far more sinister.”
She didn’t want to imagine the possibilities. “Where is your contact now? Can I meet with him?”
Shaking his head, he pointed to a newspaper on the bed. The headline blared news about a body found by locals near the capital. Drugs were suspected.
“They got to Carlos, too,” he said.
Fernando shifted his legs on the quilt and winced.
Eight bullets. He’d been taken down by eight bullets, pumped into him by gang members in a “war act.” But it wasn’t a turf war or drugs. The gang had operated under dark enchantment. Fernando had been shot deliberately after he’d located the children. He belonged to her team of Arcane Enchanter Mages operating out of Honduras.
Kelly squeezed his hand, took the map and committed it to memory. Using the matches Hilda provided, she burned it on the rusty stove that no longer worked. “Go, rescue the children, Kelly. I do not know how much time they have left,” Fernando said, and his voice was strong.
Tears gathered in Hilda’s eyes. “You’re the only one left who can save them, Kelly.” Hilda glanced at the silver triskele. “You have powers we lack. Make right this wrong before the Elementals judge all Arcanes as guilty and kill us.”
Hatred punctuated those words. Kelly placed a gentle hand on her friend’s arm. “There are good Elementals. Not all are so unreasonable.”
The dripping rain slowed and stopped. But a steady tapping came upon the battered roof. Fear flickered across Hilda’s face. She and Fernando glanced upward.
The sound of claws skittering across a metal roof, accompanied by a distinct, foul smell. Only one creature could emit such a nauseous stench… .
Kelly’s heart dropped to her stomach. She pointed at the ceiling. “Ilthus,” she whispered.
Blood drained from Hilda’s face.
Fingers tight around the triskele pendant, she headed for the door. Hilda grabbed her arm.
“Don’t go out there. It will kill you,” the terrified woman whispered.
“I can’t let it get to Fernando.”
The warped turquoise door creaked as she opened it. Rain dripped on the cracked concrete courtyard, where the soaked wash hung limply on the frayed clothesline. Kelly sang out a chant to gather her powers as she stepped outside.
A foul stench tainted the air, the smell of sulfur and decay. Gagging, she inched backward, trying to peer onto the roof. The skittering sound stopped.
Power hummed beneath her trembling hands. Ilthuses were clever and quick, and they could move…
A harsh screech split the air. As she looked up, a redand-blue-speckled thing launched itself off the roof.
Scrambling backward, she avoided the daggered claws swiping at her face. Instead, the creature shredded a ragged shirt on the clothesline. The ilthus shrieked again and skittered on all fours. Saliva dripped from its black slit of a mouth.
It came closer, hissing, its lizardlike pupils contracting as it fixed a stare at Kelly, seeing prey, seeing its target up close. A forked tongue shot out of its mouth.
The ilthus opened its mouth and hissed. A steady stream of gray mist sprayed out of its mouth, the rotten-egg stench making Kelly’s eyes tear, her vision blur.
Backing up, she hit a wall. No place to run. Dear gods, I’m going to die from the smell. She blinked hard and focused.
The door banged open. Hilda came outside, armed with an iron skillet. The brave, crazy woman!
“Take this, you stinking son of a bitch,” Hilda screamed in Spanish as she threw the skillet.
It missed the ilthus, but the distraction was enough. The creature stopped spraying.
“Get back,” Kelly yelled at Hilda.
Kelly breathed through her mouth and flung out her power at the creature, and then she dived behind a rusty washing machine.
With a loud shriek, the ilthus exploded, spraying green slime over the walls and the wet laundry.
Hands shaking, Kelly struggled to her feet. She stared at the mess. Hilda stepped into the courtyard, holding her nose.
Rain began falling again. Kelly gave a wry grin.
“Sorry about the laundry and the smell,” she said.
Hilda hugged her tight. “You saved us.”
“No.” She pushed at her long, tangled hair. “I brought it to you. It must have followed me from the airport.” She could expect more scouts like this. The rogue Arcanes didn’t want interference before they could hide the children in a safe place.
“But who knew you were coming, or where you went?” Hilda looked confused.
Kelly thought of the angry cabdriver. “The taxi driver who drove me here. He’s Arcane. Must have been alerted I’d left the country and waited for me at the airport.”
“You’re fortunate he did not harm you in the cab.”
“Maybe he was instructed to notice where I went. They probably want to see how much I know and where I go.” Kelly squeezed her friend’s hands. “Take Fernando, go visit your sister. Please. For your own safety. He’ll be more comfortable there.”
The rogue Arcanes were watching her, probably to see if she dared to track down the children. She needed Sam and his team of SEALs. But if they weren’t coming, she had to do this on her own. Kelly’s stomach churned. She wasn’t a courageous navy SEAL, trained to combat evil.
But neither was she a coward.
In ST 21’s ready room, Shay looked at his CO with pure dismay.
Kelly had fled and the Council of Mages gave an official order. They were going down range into Honduras. Hellfire, he could face a squad of vampires armed with RPGs easier than this assignment.
The briefing book lay open before him on the table. In the room, Dakota, Renegade and Sully studied their copies. Using a red laser pen, Curt pointed to a map on the screen in front of the room.
“More than eighty percent of the coke entering the U.S. is shipped through Honduras. Drugs are flown into the Miskito Coast from South America and then transported to the States.
“This is an extremely covert op. Several months ago, U.S. forces joined with the Hondurans and used military outposts, established by the Hondurans, to conduct counterinsurgency against the cartels. The FOL had the Honduran Air Force rapidly deploying to intercept aircraft and boats smuggling narcotics. Brass pulled the plug after bad PR regarding a shooting incident. Now brass wants us to train the Honduran security forces on counterinsurgency and CQC techniques.”
FOL, forward operating location. CQC, close quarters combat.
SOL, no explanation needed. That was Kelly’s fate, and he was powerless to change it. He’d told Curt what Kelly suspected, but his CO needed proof.
Kelly had none.
Shay squeezed his briefing book, magick boiling in his blood. Sparks of white light began dancing on the table’s surface. Sully glanced over and motioned to tone it down.
Deep breaths. He forced his magick to calm. If Curt suspected he couldn’t control his powers, he’d order him off this op. And he needed to be there, to ensure nothing happened to Kelly.
“Your mission is nonintervention. Restricted to training the Honduran security forces in counterinsurgency and CQC.”
Their CO paused, his gaze steady and unblinking. “That’s your official mission. Your paranormal code mission is Operation Flight Bird. Find and capture Kelly Denning to face arrest by the Council of Mages on the charge of kidnapping Billy Rogers. The council is sending a special detachment to escort her back.”
So it had come to this. Shay cursed his uncle’s sabbatical on a remote island. With Al’s lone voice of reason gone, the council moved against Kelly. “So she doesn’t get a chance to defend herself?”
“The council will provide an attorney,” Curt said.
Shay snorted. “Right. One working for the lynch mob.”
Beside him, Renegade shook his head. “The woman’s guilty as hell, Shay. You can’t see it because you were involved with her.”
Flipping him the finger, Shay shook his head. “Everyone is innocent until convicted.”
He looked at his CO.
“You know what those bastards in the council will do to her, Curt.”
Sympathy flared in the older Mage’s gray gaze. “I know, Shay. We’re caught in a web of dirty Mage politics, and Senator Rogers is jerking our strings. But she will receive a fair trial, even if I have to fight tooth and nail for her. You have to trust the process.”
Trust the process. Right.
“Those are your orders.”
He was a soldier in the U.S. Navy. Order and discipline. Even if he didn’t like the orders, Shay had to follow them.
Even if the thought of taking his former lover prisoner splintered that rock he once called his heart.
Hours later, they landed at the Palmerola Air Base, where the United States had a long-standing presence. They were joined by Greg Andrews, the new SEAL on Team 21’s Phoenix Force. Andrews was a last-minute addition to the op, direct orders from the admiral himself.
Shay knew the guys slightly resented the FNG, the effing new guy, mainly because he took Adam’s place. Adam was a jag shifter, killed in Afghanistan when he and Dakota were ambushed by demons.
Shorter in stature, with mild brown eyes and a lean build, Greg studied the old, weathered “hootches” serving as their quarters.
“No running water inside,” Greg mused. “Latrines and showers are over there.”
Sully took a look at the worn-wood buildings and shrugged. “Beats sleeping in the jungle.”
“To each their own, wolf.” Greg was a tiger shifter.
They stashed their gear. They had barely finished when Dakota’s cell rang and he stepped outside to take the call. Their lieutenant returned to the barracks, his face grim. Shay stopped cleaning his sidearm. He knew that look, disbelief and frustration.
Meaning, some hotshot brass had screwed up the mission.
Dakota ran a hand through his hair.
“Orders have changed. The tracking chip indicates our target is in San Lorenzo, way south of here. We’re to capture the target and notify Curt as soon as she’s in custody. Then take her to an LZ near San Lorenzo to await a helo, where we’ll hand over the prisoner to the Mage council representative. We’re traveling as civilians. No weapons. Curt says we’ll spook the local police.”
Gooseflesh broke out on Shay’s arms. “Not even a sidearm?”
“Curt said those are our orders, direct from the admiral.” Dakota’s voice was tight.
His Mage senses were all but roaring. “What’s the deal? He’d never send us out without weapons.”
“Damn, I don’t like it,” Sully muttered.
“Any ideas, Shay?” Dakota gave him an even look.
Shay gazed around the stark barracks. Sweat trickled down his back into the waistband of his cammies. He always followed orders, but hellfire, this order sounded like trouble. He was the team’s weapon’s expert. “Time to call in some favors.” He removed his cell, palming it. “Give me a couple of hours.”
It took less than that. The former politician in the Honduran Congress he’d done a security detail for two years ago was happy to help. An hour later, Shay returned to base in a dark blue Range Rover. The other SEALs gathered around the vehicle as he jumped out.
“Vehicle’s bulletproof. We’ll travel in these.”
He tossed five oversize khaki shirts and several pairs of olive cargo pants to Dakota, along with five leather gun holsters. Sully picked his up and whistled. “Sweet. It’ll do.”
“More goodies in the trunk. Not much ammo. All I could scrounge up at the last moment.”
Dakota nodded. “Good job, Shay.”
No satisfaction filled him at the praise. Instead, he felt only a sense of unease. Every instinct screamed caution.
A short time later, they emerged from their barracks in cargo pants, the loose-fitting khaki shirts draped over the waistbands. Tucked inside each man’s pants was a leather holster carrying a Sig Sauer 9 mm.
“Not bad,” Greg muttered. “We blend with the locals. Too bad we can’t carry a rocket launcher in our pants.”
“Shay always carries a rocket launcher in his pants,” Renegade jested.
As they moved to the vehicle’s rear, Shay looked around to ensure they weren’t watched. He opened the hatch and lifted the carpeting. In a specially designed wheel well were five HK MP5 submachine guns.
“No extra ammo, but fully loaded.”
“I always did like fully loaded vehicles,” Sully drawled.
Dakota nodded. “Much better insurance for the road than triple A. I’m not going to ask how you got them. We’ll take a minimum of gear, plus com equipment, stash it here.”
After doing so, they loaded the vehicle with water, supplies and their packs. Shay pocketed flex cuffs he’d laced with his own magick to restrain Kelly once they caught her.
Sitting shotgun next to Dakota, Shay consulted with the miniature receiver that transmitted a steady beacon from Kelly’s security chip.
Renegade leaned between the seats. “What if she removed it?”
“She wouldn’t. Kelly knows Rogers would send us here. That’s what she wants.”
Sully whistled. “Why?”
He studied the flashing pinpoint of light. “She needs our help.”
Renegade snorted. “Help her? The woman who kidnapped the senator’s only child?”
Kelly had trusted him and spilled all her secrets. But she didn’t know what a dangerous game she played. Shay’s fingers tightened around the transponder. Curt had assured him that she’d get a fair trial. But even the powerful Mage couldn’t prevent Kelly from suffering an accident.
Are you delivering her to her death?
He looked directly at his lieutenant. “She didn’t kidnap Billy. Kelly told me rogue Arcanes are holding other Elemental children here in Honduras.”
Dakota looked stunned.
“She’s here to rescue these missing Phantom children. Kelly says a group of Arcanes plans to kill them, drain their powers and use the magick to imitate Elementals to exterminate my people. And they’re going to create another Dark Lord to aid them.”
Shay’s throat tightened. “Genocide of all Elemental Mages.”
Silence, except for the rumble of the engine.
“Christ,” Sully muttered. “Shades of Rwanda and Bosnia.”
“Sounds far-fetched. You believe it?” Renegade asked. Shay sighed. “I believe she didn’t kidnap Billy and that she believes she is fighting for the right cause.”
The other, he needed proof.
He glanced at his lieutenant. “And I believe the council is gunning for her, because of Senator Rogers.”
Dakota had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. “They’re your people, Shay. You know Mage politics better than we do. But we have our orders.”
“Let’s go,” he said, and gave the coordinates.
Trees and shrubs flanked the road, shadowed by the magnificent vista of jagged mountains. Dakota kept a steady speed, except to slow and jerk the vehicle around potholes the size of moon craters. Small, rough-hewn shacks sold colorful handwoven hammocks strung between trees. Two or three times they had to stop and slow for men driving a herd of cattle on the road, waving a red caution flag for vehicles.
Three hours later, they reached San Lorenzo. A faded statue of the saint guarded the town’s entrance. Shay’s pulse accelerated as he glanced at the receiver.
“She’s here. Take the right fork, then the first right.”
They drove past a row of buildings and hit a dirt road. Simple wood-and-adobe houses flanked the road, cordoned off from each other by barbed-wire fences. The burning sun in the crisp blue sky baked the landscape.
After a series of turns, they arrived at a white concrete building bearing a sign that read Health Center in Spanish. A few women, babies in their arms, mingled out front as Dakota parked the Rover.
In the dirt road, Kelly kicked a soccer ball to four young boys. Faded jeans hugged her curves and clung to her heart-shaped ass. The cap-sleeved turquoise shirt accented her high, generous breasts and showed arms that were toned and tanned. A clip held up her long red hair, but several tendrils had escaped and curled in the heat. Shouts sounded as the boys chased the ball. She glanced up and saw their vehicle. No reaction.
“She’s expecting us,” Sully marveled.
Shay removed the flex ties and climbed out as Dakota waited, engine humming. The thick, humid air wrung sweat from his pores as he faced his former lover.
Soon to be his prisoner.
For a moment, he remained motionless. Skin soft and smooth, she was so pretty, life sparking in her big blue eyes. He loved the way the sun glinted off the copper highlights in her hair as the ponytail tumbled past her slender shoulders. Shay drew in a deep breath as a droplet of sweat rolled down the slope of her smooth throat.
He remembered another time when he’d made her sweat.
Shay steeled himself. You have a job to do.
Kelly kicked the ball to the boys. “Sorry, guys, my ride’s here. You finish the game,” she called in Spanish.
As she grabbed her pack, Shay waited. No emotion showed on her face as she walked toward him.
“Kelly Denning, you’re under arrest,” he said in English.
“Please, don’t do this here,” she said in a low voice. “Not in front of them. I don’t want a scene.”
Shay took her arm, led her down a deserted side street, away from curious bystanders. Dakota followed in the Rover.
Before an abandoned adobe building, he cuffed her wrists.
Her skin was soft and warm beneath his fingers. Shay kept his voice steady.
“Kelly Denning, you are under arrest according to the Law of Mages and hereby remanded to custody.”
He ushered her into the vehicle, between himself and Greg in the backseat. Dakota glanced in the mirror.
“I made the call to Curt. Helo will meet us at the LZ in thirty minutes,” he said in a tight voice.
Her hands shook, but she scrubbed them against her jeans. “Where…” She cleared her voice. “Where are you taking me?”
As Dakota told her, blood drained from her face. “I can’t leave the country.”
“You have no choice,” Shay said almost gently.
She pulled at her cuffs to no avail. “I won’t let you do this.”
Shay placed a hand on her arm, feeling delicate bones beneath her soft skin. “We’re under orders, Kelly.”
“Whose orders? Your commanding officer?”
When he nodded, she looked paler. “He’s a Primary Elemental Mage, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Shay looked out the window.
“Those orders are bogus.”
From the front seat, Renegade snorted. Dakota glanced at Shay in the rearview mirror as they headed south on the highway.
Kelly turned to him, her expression fierce. “Your CO isn’t who you think he is. He’s been replaced. The extermination of your people has already begun, Sam.”
The others said nothing, but their faces said it all. Kelly was a desperate prisoner who’d do anything to escape.
“You think I’m making this up. But for the sake of your people, and mine, listen to your instincts, Sam. You know this isn’t normal.”
“We’re SEALs and paranorms. Nothing is ever normal,” he said drily.
Shay studied the landscape as they turned off the highway. Dusty trees, ragged shrubs and rugged hillsides flanked each side of the Rover. They bounced up and down like bobblehead dolls as the vehicle drove through the rough dirt road.
“LZ is an empty cornfield ahead, three klicks,” Dakota mused. “Be there in a few.”
Every sense on alert, Shay scanned the area for signs of an approaching helo, or any other military. Nothing, except a small child herding a small group of cows with a long stick.
“Dakota, keep sharp,” he muttered.
As they rounded a curve, his senses kicked into turbo. In the middle of the road lay several leafy branches arranged in a pyramid.
“Disabled vehicle ahead. Or maybe the road’s bad.” Sully shook his head. “Not that this road could get worse.”
“That’s the marker for the LZ.” Dakota stopped and cut the engine.
“It’s a trap,” Kelly said, sitting forward.
To their right, a swath of rocky land rose to a steep hill covered with trees. A barren cornfield was to their left.
Odd place for a landing. Shay’s suspicions grew.
“She’s right,” he said. “It smells like a setup. Let’s gear up.”
“Do it,” LT murmured.
Sully reached into the wheel well and retrieved the MP5s, handing them out, along with five sets of fingerless gloves. Kelly’s eyes widened as each man checked his weapon. Shay knew what she thought. The compact submachine guns meant business.
But then she exhaled, a sound of pure relief. “I knew I got arrested by the right people.”