Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] (4 page)

Her pitiful whispering caused Lando a moment’s pause. Perhaps he should just wait until her time was closer. The cold would soon cloud her mind and she wouldn’t be so fearful of him; hopefully, she would slip into unconsciousness. He couldn’t possibly take her with him. He felt certain she was too far gone, her body incapacitated, and she would only slow him down. Though small, he didn’t like the idea of carrying her over miles of rough terrain for God knew how long; it could take weeks.

She’s a tiny little sparrow—an innocent—she’s dead weight—you can’t help her…

Her sobbing once more captured his attention. Never before did Lando remember arguing with himself over a hit. Lando noted the poor little thing was pulling pathetically on the dead man’s clothing, seeking his protection. His coat was large, and she had it wrapped almost around the both of them, trying to hide from him. An idea came to Lando. He crouched down before her violently shaking form.

“All right, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. I’ll trade you. Give me Sam’s jacket and I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

Cautiously, she peeked out from behind Sam’s coat up at him. Lando knew there was nothing she could do but comply; her wide doe eyes went to the officer’s gun tucked within the front of his belt. She nodded and with reluctance, began shifting away from Sam. She looked away as Lando removed Sam’s coat, placing her shaking hands over her eyes. Lando was relieved she’d stopped watching him, her gaze was haunting.

Once Lando stripped the man of his jacket, he turned and left her alone. He felt positive without the added protection of the coat she would swiftly succumb. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to suffer much longer.

* * * *

Christy watched Lando’s retreating back. She was frozen, terrified. She was so tired and alone. The cold walls of the battered plane reminded her of a cell or a coffin. Everything was so quiet. Her breath shattered the air’s stillness. With Sam not wearing his jacket, it was no longer feasible to hide. He was dead. She would be too, soon. It would be easy to give in and go to sleep. Yet, if she were ready for death, why had she begged Lando to spare her life? Why had he left? What if he came back?

Her confusion was too great to ponder, and on a deeper level she sensed her physical shock and confusion. Teeth chattering, she inched away from Sam’s cold body, too tired and too unwilling to dwell on her thoughts. Except one.

“Thank you, my friend.” Her trembling fingers slid down Sam’s cold face. “Thank you for trying to help me get my life out of the terrible hell I landed in.”

She turned to look for an escape route. With sudden determination, Christy approached Howard’s still form. He was the smallest of the men, and Lando hadn’t bothered with his jacket. Most of Howard’s body was slumped to the side, his seatbelt was off and his body was tossed part way through a window. Christy struggled to remove the torn jacket; she did her best to ignore the blood and the scrappy man’s sightless gaze. Though she wore her own coat, it was a ‘city’ coat, as Sam once laughingly referred to it. Howard’s was more suited to the extreme elements.

Christy peeked out another shattered window. She needed to get away. She knew from looking at him that Lando was completely without mercy. He took from her the one thing keeping her sanity from slipping. She could no longer cuddle up to Sam’s protective body, which had shielded her from the harsh cold; she could no longer close her eyes and imagine him waking and comforting her. Reality was a cold slap in the face, but as she moved, her bones aching, her blood flowed with her thoughts.

Stealthily, she exited the plane through a small, jagged hole near the lost wing, pushing her way through battered tree branches. Her body aching in protest and clutching the jacket around her, Christy ran, her hand cradled against a sharp pain in her ribs, stumbling toward a cluster of large, moss-covered rocks. Seeing a small opening at the bottom of the rocks, Christy crouched low, scooting inside, her mind only vaguely worrying about wild animal inhabitants.

Thrusting the thought aside, she squirmed as far back as the small hole would allow, breathing heavily, flinching as tiny stones embedded into her hands, cutting into her pants at the knees; her ankles protesting as her sneaker-clad feet dug atop the ground, aiding her forward motion. Christy felt certain Lando would never be able to squeeze in to reach her. To her left, within hands’ reach she grabbed a fistful of a pine branch and dragged the branch next to her hoping it would offer a barrier. Shaking with fear and cold, Christy attempted to pull herself into the fetal position, managing somewhat in the tight enclosure. Her body strained from the exertion, and mentally and physically exhausted, she fell into a fitful sleep.

* * * *

After gathering all items he felt useful, Lando sat down to wait. He had taken a piece of metal that broke free from the plane and, using a hand-sized rock, he pounded it as best as he could into the shape of a crude, serviceable bowl. Hopefully he would come across water he could boil. He started a fire with the officer’s lighter. The man had been a nervous smoker. Unfortunately, Sam’s cell phone was broken on impact; it was on his belt when he was crushed. Christy appeared not to be in possession of one, which made him curious. A gorgeous little thing like her must have dozens of guys to string along. At least she might have. It was a moot point now.

Lando shoved both flashlights he found into the duffel bag. He tossed Christy’s camera, though used the case to hold her sewing kit and a small first-aid kit. Not much was to be had. Both he and the officer left the city without even a change of clothes. Their escape was frantic. Thankfully a small amount of extra clothing had been at the tiny cabin they ended up in, although they left everything behind when they departed. Another mad dash.

Some safe house.

The officer was almost Lando’s size and he stripped him of his clothes. They hadn’t had much time to prepare for their hasty departure. The detectives wanted to get Lando as far away as fast as possible, and keep him safely away. Oh no, they couldn’t give up their only chance at finally nabbing his notorious boss. A powerhouse of a man who had eluded them for decades.

Lando’s thoughts reflected back to the evening before. He hadn’t been in the least bit surprised when the cop informed him their cover had been compromised and their need to move immediately was imperative. Their flight from the safe house had been in the dead of night’s cover. Their escape so fast and furious they blew a front tire, damaged the radiator, and cracked the axle.

They were lucky to come across Howard and the tiny airstrip after numerous anxious-filled hours of walking a somewhat overgrown road. Howard hadn’t brought them
in originally, and the cop fast-peddled, telling lie after lie, to swing a ride from the reluctant man. Their own return flight had been grounded from home base by mysterious circumstances; an alternate route hurriedly mapped out. They thought themselves safe once aboard the plane. Lando shook his head at the irony of his situation.

He gazed about for a brief moment, thinking at least there was an upside to this dilemma—his ex-boss couldn’t possibly find him when Lando had no inkling of where he was either.

Lando looked over the meager items before him; he might be able to use the floss for traps for small game. Christy’s socks would prove useful as mittens if he were to slit small holes for his thumbs and baby fingers. Tylenol and a few mints, some hair elastics and a few razors, a flare gun. Checking his watch, Lando stood; feeling grim, he realized he was stalling. There wasn’t much light left in the day and he needed to get moving. He’d waited long enough. He couldn’t leave the poor, helpless little thing and he couldn’t take her with him.

Christy.

Her name popped unbidden into his head which surprised him. No names was his policy. He called the cop Mac, not caring if it was his name or not. Lando realized he was rattled, unusually uncommon. He surmised it was because she was female and unarmed and defenseless. It couldn’t be helped. Whether or not she pleaded with him, he wouldn’t leave her to die in such a torturously slow, brutal fashion. He would hold her to his chest while easing her fears and sharing his warmth. He would talk calmly and rationally, urging her to remember a warm, safe place, and once she calmed to the point of relaxation, he would physically end her misery. He couldn’t afford to put a bullet in her; he needed them for hunting.

On stealthy feet, Lando entered the plane, stalker mode. He was hoping to catch her off guard if possible; he knew her cries would follow him to the grave.
And now so will her name,
damn.
If he were a praying man, he would have prayed she had already given in. He felt sickened at what he was about to do; he’d been party to a few mercy killings. He only hoped if ever he were to be in the same situation, someone would show him a shred of humanity, not that he felt he deserved it.

Lando stopped short when he realized the girl was gone. How she slipped by him undetected was a mystery; he was amazed she could even walk. Most likely it had been while he was banging on the metal. Apparently she wasn’t as injured or addled as he assumed. More than likely she had just wandered off in a dazed and confused, lost stupor.

“Well, I guess assuming really does make an ass out of you and me,” Lando muttered.

This was an inconvenience. His gaze shifted to his warm, beckoning fire. For a moment, he stood thinking. Why should he bother? She meant nothing to him. With irritation, he knew instinctively that not knowing what had befallen her would drive him nuts for the rest of his life.
Damn curiosity being part of human nature.
Now he would have to go look for her.

Exiting the plane, Lando glanced around, searching the distance. She couldn’t have gone far. She was weak and exhausted. He was certain shock had set in. Her frame of mind was still up for question. He remembered she voiced being hungry on the plane—so was he. Spying small footprints on the opposite side of the plane, Lando followed them, certain he would come across her still form lying dead amidst the foliage. He hoped that was the case. He would then gently return her to Sam’s side and be off. His confusion intensified as he came to a cluster of rocks.

Kneeling on sticks and dead leaves, Lando crouched down to peer into the small, cave-like hole. Just barely, he could make out her form pressed against the stone past a branch. He listened intently and could hear her quiet breathing. Lando slumped down.
Damn
. He was too big to crawl in after her. She was too far back to reach in and grab.

He looked to the sky and checked his watch. Only a few hours of daylight remained. He didn’t want to leave her while she still breathed, but what else could he do? They had flown way off course, perhaps hundreds of miles farther north. No one would be looking for them out here. It might take days for the elements to kill her if she were semi-mobile. If a wild animal were to stumble on her, she would be ripped to shreds. It would indeed be a slow, agonizing death.

“Please.”

The whimpered, agonized plea reached his ears. Keenly, Lando listened.

“Please don’t leave me,” the soft pleading voice called out. Her throat was raw and raspy, and he remembered her screams of terror aboard the plane.

“Come out, sweetheart. I’ll sit with you,” Lando coaxed, softening his hard voice. He saw her tiny body jump as though he awoke her from her dreams—or nightmares. Her wild doe eyes focused on him and he sensed her overwhelming panic.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Lando could see her pressing herself back as far as the cold stone of the cave would allow. She was whimpering.

“Come out and let me end your suffering, sweetheart,” Lando said, filled with sympathy. His heart near ached for her. Lando had listened as a great many men begged him for mercy. He never remembered anyone getting under his skin as she was. It was almost unnerving.

Christy was sobbing. Her breath came in ragged, choking gasps. “You…you prom…promised. You…you have…have the…the jacket.”

Lando exhaled a loud breath. He
had
promised. With resolve, he rose to his feet. At least his curiosity had been satisfied, he knew where she was. He pulled a chocolate bar from his jacket; he knew it was a stupid thing to do. Hopefully she would be dead by morning, but he wouldn’t kill her. He dropped the food at the front of the cave. He knew he should save it. He could use it. She was struggling so hard for her last few hours he would offer her this small kindness.

Lando made his way back to the fire. He would leave tomorrow, after she died. It didn’t seem feasible she would survive the cold night. At least tucked in the small crevice-like cave, he doubted a wild animal would get her.

* * * *

Christy awoke, her brain foggy. Her body heat within the tight proximity was enough to keep her from freezing to death, just barely. Her muscles screamed in agony when she moved painstakingly from her little safe haven, shoving the branch out ahead of her. Her head emerged to peek about the clear, bright morning. Her hand settled on the food Lando must have mistakenly dropped on the ground and she ripped the paper off, choking the sweet chocolate down her agonized throat, the whole while wondering if he would come back in search of it. She emerged with care from her hiding place, fearful he would grab her at any second.

Christy approached the plane, her movements exaggerated from pain, her feet barely making any distinguishable sound as she took each step with care to avoid anything that might snap. Her gaze dancing fearfully around, she caught sight of her large tormentor. She ducked when she noted him standing as if listening to something. He wasn’t gazing in her direction and for a second she worried about bears. He began stomping out his fire. Hidden behind a huge tree, she watched as Lando slung her duffel bag to his broad shoulder. He glanced about again and Christy held her breath. After a moment, he moved off into the woods. She watched, heart in mouth, as he disappeared from her sight.

With caution Christy crept from around the tree, the tendrils of dying smoke drew her. She stuck her hands into the hot, dead ashes, hardly noticing their warmth, she was so terribly cold. She whimpered as she glanced around, unable to help herself. She was again completely alone. Her frantic, darting gaze settled on the ground before her, resting on a small package.