Dark Deceptions (16 page)

“Hold position,” Drake answered, his voice crackling over the com. “I’ve got a hostile coming off the porch. Same guy as earlier.”

Nash dropped down, shifting to try to see through the thick curtain of rhododendron, but the tangled branches blocked everything
from view. Frustrated, he leaned back, fingering his gun, waiting for word from Drake. At least there was some comfort in
the fact that if he couldn’t see out, no one else would be able to see in. For the time being, at least, his position was
secure.

“All right,” Drake said finally. “He’s gone. Bastard only wanted to take a leak.”

“I’ll bet that was a tempting target.”

“No shit.” Drake’s soft laughter filled the com. “Anyway, you’re clear to move.”

“Okay, I’m heading around back.”

Nash crawled forward again, still using the bushes for cover. After about ten or twelve feet, the rhododendron gave way to
some kind of holly, the thorny leaves making progress more difficult, even as the dark leaves provided shelter from prying
eyes. Swallowing a curse, he made his way around the corner, and in another two feet, reached a second window.

This one was less protected than the first, the holly bush growing thinner as it disappeared into the overgrowth between the
back of the house and what appeared to be the lake Drake had mentioned earlier.

Daring exposure, Nash pushed upward until his line of sight cleared the window ledge. The room was darker than the kitchen,
the trees behind him casting shadows along the walls and floor. A small bed in the corner showed signs of recent use. Tangled
sheets wadded up in a ball against the wall. Across from the bed, a dilapidated table held a surprisingly new-looking game
system with a large monitor. The screen showed what looked to be a video game of some kind. Heart quickening, Nash scanned
the room again, looking for other signs that the boy might be there, but the room yielded no further clues.

“Damn it,” he whispered to no one in particular, and then froze as the pile of sheets on the bed moved.

First a hand emerged, and then two feet. And finally a head.

Adam.

There was no question that it was Adam. He recognized him from the picture. But even without it, he’d have known it was Annie’s
child. He had her hair, her freckles, and the same determined look in his eyes. Nash lifted a hand to signal his presence,
but before he had the chance, the door slammed open, a dark-haired man appearing in the opening, weapon in hand. Ducking out
of sight, Nash cursed himself for not moving faster. Something was definitely wrong.

“Drake?” he whispered, his back pressed against rotting wood. “Are you there?” Static cracked in his ear, followed by a clicking
noise and then silence. He opened his mouth to repeat the question, but stopped short, instinct keeping him quiet.

Drawing his gun, he headed back toward the corner of the house, staying low, still using the bushes for cover. He slowed as
he reached the rhododendron, pushing the leaves back so that he could see. From this vantage point, he couldn’t verify Drake’s
position beneath the towering oak. But he was relieved to find the side yard quiet. No sign of intruders or danger of any
kind.

But there was no sign of Drake either.

Staying within the protection of the rhododendron, Nash carefully made his way back toward the oak tree. And then, only after
waiting a full five minutes in silence, did he dare to step from the bush’s sheltering confines.

One minute he was moving toward the safety of the oak tree, and the next something struck him hard on the back of the head.
White-hot light exploded in his brain as he stumbled to his knees, trying to hang on to consciousness. Using sheer power of
will, he grabbed his gun and pivoted, his effort rewarded with the shadowy outline of his attacker.

He lifted his hand and fired. But there was only a quiet click as the gun jammed. Nash tried to push to his feet, but his
attacker was faster, knocking the Sig away, his own weapon pointed directly at Nash’s head.

A
nnie gripped the field glasses, her heart beating double time. The man holding Nash and Drake at gunpoint was gesturing toward
the house, which meant that for the moment at least they were safe. Still, with the communications blackout, she wasn’t about
to take a chance. The handgun Nash had given her was of little value, unless she could fly. She needed something more powerful.
And she needed it now.

Running over to the Land Rover, she yanked open the back and felt along the front seam of the carpet covering the floor for
the notched indentation that opened the weapons cabinet.

Standard issue even in her day.

She selected a rifle and fitted the scope, feeling a hell of a lot more secure, in her element. She’d already checked out
the farm, if you could call it that. Looking like something out of a Thomas Cole painting, the graying old house set against
the yellow-pink of the sunrise had looked almost peaceful. The Hudson River School at its very best. But this wasn’t a painting.
Hell, it wasn’t even a real farm. At least not anymore.

Now it was nothing more than a prison. A place to hold her son. And it had taken every ounce of self-restraint Annie possessed
to keep from running down the hill to try to free Adam. But now all bets were off. Nash was in trouble.

Grabbing some extra ammo, she stuffed it into a small backpack, adding a couple of grenades and a Sig Sauer for good measure.
Better to be overprepared. She closed the hatch and moved back toward the farmhouse. Although it was daylight, clouds had
moved in to cover the sun, the overcast day giving her an unexpected advantage when it came to stealth.

At the top of a small rise, she dropped to the ground, using the rifle’s scope to reevaluate the situation. The group had
moved about fifteen feet, Drake and Nash both with their hands in the air. It wouldn’t be long before the man called for reinforcements
or forced them out of sight. Either way, she didn’t have much time.

She lowered the scope and sat back on her heels, considering her options. The first thing to do was remove the immediate threat—the
man with the machine gun. She could take him out from here. But the shot was long, even by her standards. She’d move closer
and then take the bastard out.

Gauging the distance between their position and the rise, she decided on a point halfway down the slope, a large pine tree
huddled against an outcropping of rock providing the perfect place to conceal herself. The only trick was to make the distance
between here and there in one piece, but considering the kidnappers probably weren’t expecting reinforcements, she figured
the odds were on her side.

Moving at almost a crawl, she skittered down the hill, stopping once behind a boulder, relieved to see that her movement had
gone unnoticed. Another ten yards or so and she was sheltered by the pine. Reattaching the rifle’s scope and silencer, she
knelt, taking aim, as the man waved his machine gun again in the direction of the house. The three of them moved forward,
stepping into the shadow of a stand of trees, Drake blocking the angle of her shot.

“Move, damn it,” she whispered, heart thudding as she waited.

As if he’d heard her, Drake bent down, and Annie closed an eye as she gently squeezed the trigger, the motion at once intimate
and deadly, everything coming back to her with one fluid motion. She was a trained killer and nothing—not her life in Creede,
not her absence from the Company, not even her love for her son—could change that fact.

Using the scope, she ascertained that the man was indeed down. Nash and Drake had already pulled his body deeper into the
shadows. She struggled for breath, the past and present coming together in nightmarish fashion. Angrily, she pushed away her
rioting emotions. There was no time for introspection. Her son’s life and quite possibly Nash and Drake’s depended on her
ability to keep a cool head.

Keeping the rifle at the ready, she swung the pack back onto her shoulder and cautiously worked her way around the perimeter
of the farmyard to the copse of trees where she’d last seen Nash and Drake.

Whistling softly, she prayed Nash would remember their old signal. It had been eight years, after all. She didn’t relish the
idea of coming up on them blind, but she didn’t have much choice. Fortunately, the breeze carried his answering call.

Keeping low, careful to keep watch on the house, she moved into the shelter of the trees. “Nash?” she called softly.

“Over here,” came the reply.

Nash was crouched over the body, Drake next to him keeping watch, the dead man’s machine gun trained on the house.

“Nice shot,” Drake said as she dropped down beside them. Everything was still almost eerily quiet.

“I’m a little rusty,” she said, shrugging, “but once a shooter always a shooter, I guess. Any sign of company?”

“Nothing so far,” Nash said as he finished searching the body. “The man wasn’t carrying a radio. So that’s a break in our
favor.”

Drake winced as he shifted his position, gingerly rubbing the back of his head.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, the guy just clubbed me upside the head. But it’s nothing.”

“So what the hell happened?” Annie asked. “I assumed that even though Jason and Hannah bugged out, the two of you were still
in communication.”

“We were,” Drake said. “But the guy caught me unaware. Knocked me cold from behind.”

“And then went after Nash.” She nodded, turning back to Nash, who was camouflaging the body with rocks and leaves. “I saw
that much. But I thought you had him.”

“Gun jammed,” he replied, his mouth tightening with anger. “I hope to hell you’ve got another one in the bag?”

“I do,” she said, reaching in to toss him the gun. “Also some extra ammo and some grenades. I kinda hate going into a situation
unprepared.”

“Grenades could be useful,” Drake said. “And at least for the moment we seem to have the upper hand. We’re still alone.”

“Yeah, but sooner or later someone’s bound to come looking for our friend over there.”

“Which means we need to move fast,” Drake said, the machine gun still trained on the farmhouse.

“What about Adam?” Annie asked, her heart in her throat.

“He’s here,” Nash said. “I saw him.”

“And?” she asked, fear shimmering in her voice.

“There wasn’t time to see much, but he’s definitely alive.”

“Thank God,” she whispered, her heart slipping back into place again. “What about the others? Do you think the man from the
phone call is here?”

“No way to tell. There was a man with Adam, but there was nothing to signify who he was.”

“And we don’t have time to sit here and debate. Once they figure out they’re a man short, we’ll have lost advantage,” Drake
said. “We need to make our move now.”

“I’m ready,” Annie said, and nodded, sliding a clip into her gun. “So what are we facing?”

“According to Jason’s intel, we’ve got five hostiles including Rivon,” Nash said.

“So that means we’re down to four,” Annie said. “Jason placed two up front. Which I’m assuming includes the guy I took out.
And two midhouse.”

“Which is probably Rivon and maybe the guy in charge,” Nash added.

“And then there’s one in back with your son,” Drake concluded. She noticed he didn’t call Adam by name. That was protocol.
It made it less personal when working on a retrieval, but the thought made her gut churn.

“So what’s the plan?” she asked, remembering that Nash had said that Drake was an expert in extractions.

“I’m thinking a two-pronged attack,” Drake replied. “I’ll create some kind of diversion. Something that will pull Rivon and
company to the front of the house or, even better, outside. Then once we’ve managed to grab their attention, you guys can
sneak in the back and grab the kid. From what I could see, there were two rooms at the front of the house. A living room on
the west side and a bedroom on the east. The living room opens onto a dining room.”

“Which leads to the kitchen,” Nash said, sketching a crude diagram of the house with his finger in the dirt. “Adam is in a
room on the back. Here.” Nash pointed to the northeastern corner of the house.

“And according to the plans Jason showed us, there should be a door near the opposite corner.”

“So all we’ve got to do,” Annie said, studying the diagram, “is get in the back door and through here to Adam.” She drew a
line to indicate what seemed to be the shortest route.

“While Rivon and his cronies are outside chasing after me.” Drake nodded.

“It’s still risky,” Nash said with a frown. “Maybe it would be better if I handled the retrieval on my own. After all, Avery
told Annie to stay in the background.”

“If I’d stayed in the background, you’d both be dead.”

“Point well taken,” Drake said. “Besides, we need all the personnel we can get. If everything goes well, I’ll be able to take
out the four remaining hostiles. And your job will be easy. But if I fail, or if someone stays behind with the kid, you could
run into trouble. And an extra gun could be just the ticket.” He waited a moment for dissension, and when there was none,
nodded. “All right, so we’re agreed. I’ll attack the front while you and Annie hit from the back and free the kid.”

“Adam,” Annie said through gritted teeth. “His name is Adam.”

“Right.” Drake nodded.

“Annie,” Nash said, his fingers closing around hers. “It’s going to be all right.”

“I know.” She nodded, forcing herself to sequester her fear. She could fall apart later, after Adam was safe. “It’s just that
he’s my son.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Nash asked, his eyes dark with worry.

“Yeah,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “I have to be. For Adam. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t done this before.” She blew
out a breath and squared her shoulders. “So what do you say we get this show on the road?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Drake said. “Give me a couple of minutes’ lead time to get into place. Then assuming everything’s still
quiet, you guys head for the back door and hold your position until you hear the fireworks.”