Rescue Me (22 page)

“Yes, sir.” Spencer ended the call and
slipped his phone into his pocket before he called Kathryn. He knew
how she worried about him when he got called out on a find,
especially after midnight. Unfortunately, on a human find, TREX
worked on a subject's time, not TREX's. Spencer would have rather
stayed in his bed, tucked up against Kathryn's warm body, holding
her against him. Even in sleep he had the undeniable instinct to
protect her and keep her close.

He rested a gloved hand over the pocket that
held his phone, wondering if he should at least text her. No, she'd
only text back and they'd end up chatting that way.

And then he'd be distracted, just as Weber
accused him to be.

Thank God he had that state-of-the-art
security system that fed into TREX's HQ installed last year. He
usually had it disarmed. Having his agency monitor his every move
irritated the shit out of him. But now, with Kathryn alone, it
relieved him knowing his entire agency had its eye on her. He
couldn't ask for a better security system. She knew nothing about
it, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. At least she'd be
safe alone at his house with the system enabled.

“What's the plan?” Lyons asked.

“We stay hidden for one more hour. If Salazar
doesn't get any visitors, we disappear.”

“Are you shitting me?” McKoy dropped his jaw.
“That's it? We've been out here freezing our asses off just to turn
around and leave?”

Lyons shook his head and went to stand next
to Spencer. “Where the hell are they getting these probies?”

Spencer nodded in agreement. The team fell
silent as they all stared at the cabin, waiting for something to
happen. The snow slowed to only a few lazy flakes here and there,
which made it easier to see off into the distance without the help
of the NVDs. The clouds even lightened and the moon poked out, its
silver light oozing over the cabin and the surrounding area. The
frozen night sank in, chilling him to the bone. The hairs on the
back of his neck stood on end as he shuddered.

He casually glanced over his shoulder,
tracing the hills around them. Keeping his movement fluid, careful
to not convey the sudden sense of urgency he had pulsing through
him, he nodded for McKoy to join him.

“Sorry about the comment, sir.” McKoy dropped
his gaze.

Spencer turned to keep his back to the woods
behind him. He still didn't know what, exactly, had him suddenly so
suspicious of the space behind him, but he was. Damn how he was.
“You trained as a sniper at Gahanna, right?”

McKoy jerked his head up as his expression
brightened. “Yes, sir.”

Lyons studied Spencer's face and then jumped
his attention to the hilly woods behind them. “What are you
thinking?”

“Tell me how many vantage points you see,” he
said to McKoy. “How many different places can you spot for a sniper
to stay perfectly hidden from us, but see everything we do?”

McKoy immediately turned and made it obvious
as he studied the hill. “Uh…”

“God
damn
it, McKoy.” Spencer grabbed
the probie and forced him back around. “Next time try not to
advertise it.”

“Yes, sir. I was just—”

A single gunshot cut him off and sent him
flying back. He landed against a tree and slowly slid down, leaving
a streak of blood on the trunk.

“Fuck! Down!”

The team dropped just as another shot rang
out, slamming into a tree and raining bark on them. If he didn't
get his team out of there, they'd be picked off one-by-one. They
had no cover.

He whispered into his mic, “On my mark, you
all get your asses out of this opening. Scatter.” Spencer pulled up
his M16 and sent out cover fire and the team all moved. More shots
from above came down on them, but luckily they all got out of
there.

All but the youngest member of TREX Team Two.
Logan McKoy sat slumped over, the snow around him crimson. Jesus
Christ. He was just a kid.

“Your turn,” Lyons said over the radio. “Get
your ass out of there. I'll cover.”

The second Lyons's cover fire started,
Spencer crouched low and ran toward a tree large enough to shield
him. Another shot sounded and the cover fire immediately
silenced.

Spencer stiffened and touched his mic.
“Lyons?”

No answer.

“Lyons?” he asked with more urgency.

The wait drove him insane with worry. After
several tense seconds and no other fire from the sniper, he picked
up a rock and threw it at a bush, causing it to rustle. Still, no
fire.

His gun at the ready, he inched over to where
he watched Lyons disappear to. He'd have to pass through the
opening to get to him. If the sniper was still up there, the minute
Spencer showed himself, he'd be taken out.

Shit.
Shit!

“Does anyone have eyes on Lyons?”

“Oh, shit.” Snyder spoke up. “Jesus fuck. The
son of a bitch got Lyons.”

Spencer took his chances and sprinted over to
the other side of the clearing. Still no shots. Their sniper must
have taken off. Either that or he was reloading.

He rounded the bush and shock had him
skidding to a stop at the sight.

Dear God, no. No!

“Lyons!” He sprinted to the other man's side
and dropped to his knees. Although the single shot in the center of
his forehead and the open, vacant look in those lifeless eyes
already told Spencer that Lyons was gone, he still felt for a
pulse. Jesus. No. “Fuck, no. Fuck! No!”

Emotions thickened in his throat and he
fought to keep them down. Not Lyons. Please, God. Not Lyons.
Spencer felt for a pulse again and choked on a sob. God
damn
it! His mentor. His friend. Now gone.

“I'm sorry,” Snyder offered with a hand on
Spencer's shoulder.

Pulling himself together, Spencer pressed his
mic and forced his voice out. “Report in.”

“Aims. No injuries.”

“Cummings. Ditto.”

“I'm right here,” Snyder said. “I'm not
hit.”

And then silence. Spencer knew McKoy wouldn't
be radioing in.

“Aims. Cummings. Circle around. Find me that
shooter.”

“Permission to terminate,” Cummings
requested, shocking Spencer. He was usually the calm one of the
team.

“Negative. Bring him in alive.” Spencer
fought to keep his emotions in check. A vice clamped down on his
chest, making it impossible to breathe. The tightness moved up to
his throat and constricted it. His eyes burned. Fury raced through
him and he slowly rose to his feet. The shock left his body as he
settled into assassin mode. There were times, like now, where
missions centered on hunting down a person not to save them, but to
eliminate a threat. He tapped into that now.

Spencer wouldn't rest until he found the
sniper and did to him exactly what the coward bastard had done to
Lyons and McKoy. He turned and sprinted toward the cabin. Salazar
better have answers. If he so much as hinted at an answer Spencer
didn't like, the man would die. Slowly. Painfully.

He flipped on the light of his M16 and threw
open the door. Snyder appeared next to him and gave him a signal
that he'd take the left. Spencer hurried off to the right.

“Clear,” Snyder whispered into the mic.

“Son of a bitch!” Spencer kicked the closest
wall. “It was a setup. The whole thing was a fucking setup.”

“No shooter,” Aims announced over the radio.
“But we've got a set of some sort of vehicle tracks. Narrow.
Real
narrow. Maybe a motorcycle?”

Cummings broke in. “They're from motorcycles
converted into snowmobiles. Single ski in the front. Single track
in the back. They went straight down the mountainside and fast. I
can't even hear them.”

“They must be headed to the highway,” Aims
pointed out. “Cummings and I are going back for the SUV. They have
a huge head start on us but those things can't go on the
highway.”

“Which means they have another rig waiting to
pick them up at the bottom.” Spencer pulled out his phone and
called Weber.

“Is the—”

“We need the north side of the Black Hills
contained immediately. Our suspect is on the run.”

“What?” Weber roared into the phone. “What
the fuck do you mean he's on the run? What in the hell happened up
there?”

He didn't have time to explain. They had to
find Salazar and the shooter that helped him escape before they
were gone forever. “Get some birds in the air and a shit ton of
guys on the ground.”

“Allen, what happened?” Although Weber kept
an even tone, the agitation sliced through the line.

Spencer closed his eyes, not ready to face
the reality that two of his men were gone. “Please, Weber. Just get
me some resources and fast.”

“I'll get Rand on it right away.”

“Do
not
call K-SAR.” His gut clenched.
He couldn't think of Kathryn being up here with Salazar and whoever
helped him escape on the loose. “Weber? Did you hear me?”

He'd already hung up.

* * * *

A bone-jarring chill tore through Kat. The
temperature had really dropped after the sun went down. Even in the
Northwest the temperatures were known to dip into the teens on rare
occasions. The vision of the snow dancing around before it melted
on the water added to Kat's aching midsection.

Spencer was out on a “quick” find. He
promised he'd be back before sunup, that it was a simple
in-and-out, but she knew better. There was never anything simple
about one of TREX's finds. She had firsthand knowledge of that.

Would he follow in his father's footsteps? In
every way? Would she ever get that dreaded knock on the door every
wife of a husband in covert operations fears?

Wife
. Kat laughed at the very word.
He'd never given her any indication he wanted to marry her, and
she'd given him no signs she wanted to marry him
this
time.
Still, they were back together. They were happy again. It was only
a matter of time before she slipped up and said those three little
words that got her into so much trouble the first time around.

She focused on a cluster of snowflakes yet to
melt on the water. A storm had settled over the southern region of
the state and dumped snow in the mountains, and slush everywhere
else. Now the slush was ice and wreaked havoc on an area not used
to this kind of weather.

That familiar apprehension inched its way
into her thoughts. She knew he had a duty, a calling as he referred
to it. Oh how she wanted to protest, to beg him to crawl back under
the warmth of the covers and stay with her.

But she couldn't. There were people out there
who needed him more than she did right now. Because he was a
Superman in his own right, she knew she couldn't be selfish and
keep him all to herself. Even Lois Lane understood that.

Didn't mean she had to like it.

Pulling the comforter closer around her, she
stared at the feeble fire she'd managed to build. It was nothing
compared to the roaring fire Spencer had made in the fireplace so
many times before, but it would do in a pinch. It would be daybreak
in a few more hours anyway.

Another siren wailed somewhere in the night
and she tensed. Sirens equated to an emergency. Someone, somewhere,
needed their own Superman.

The wind whistled down the chimney and caused
the fire to flicker and fade. She crinkled her brow and tightened
the comforter around her as she numbly watched her fire, mesmerized
by the dancing flames.

Kat wanted Spencer in her arms, safe and
warm. He didn't need to be out there saving the world all the time.
Aside from simply wanting him safely by her side, she wanted to
talk about the promise he'd made right before he left.

“When I get back, we'll talk about our future
together. I promise.”

Just hearing that promise had her anxious.
Their future.
Together
. That meant he actually wanted one
with her.

She glanced at the battery-powered clock
since the ice had knocked down the power lines right after dark.
Five in the morning and still no word from him. Her lids drooped,
but she fought to stay awake. She wouldn't allow sleep to take
over, not when the man she loved was still out there in this
weather.

Kat's cell phone rang and her heart leapt
into her throat. Should she answer it? What if it was the news she
prayed she'd never hear? It rang again and she closed her eyes, too
scared to lift it to her ear. One more ring and her hand trembled
as she answered. “Spencer?”

“Try again,” the voice growled through the
line.

She frowned and every muscle in her body grew
rigid.
Oh God, no.
Dan Weber? “What happened? Where's
Spencer?”

He ground out a sigh and Kat sucked in a
breath. Here it came, the news that would forever destroy her. Her
stomach twisted. Her heart stopped. She stiffened as she held her
breath and waited.

“I've got him on another find and we need
K-SAR's help.”

Oh, thank God.
Relief washed over her
like a warm bath. “Is he okay?”

“Ask him when he gets home.”

“What happened?”

Weber's voice was guarded, ominous, as he
stated, “There's been an incident.”

That didn't sound good. “What sort of
incident?”

“Damon Salazar.”

That man. Just hearing his name had Kat
tense, her pulse pounding in her ears. “What did he do this
time?”

“I'm not at liberty to read you in on all the
details.”

“Of course you're not.”

When he sighed it came out as a growl. “Kat,
I honestly don't know why you're suddenly so interested in the
details of our finds. You're asking questions you know you aren't
going to have answered. You know the rules when you work with TREX.
We keep you in the loop when necessary.”

“And the details behind the kidnapping of
Tommy Miller aren't necessary? Quit trying to bullshit me.”