The Maze (ATCOM) (2 page)

Chapter
2

Noah
still refused to give her the coordinates. They were in the Colorado Rocky
Mountains, which was all she knew. She could do nothing without him and
suspected he liked keeping her at a disadvantage, although it drove her crazy.

Silence
stretched between them as they made their way up the mountain over rocky
terrain and through dense forest.

Attie
was right at home, having spent most of her life in the mountains. She loved
the clean, crisp air, the rugged beauty, and demanding terrain. She knew Noah
was just as comfortable since he taught wilderness survival at the academy.

Irritated
about taking the back seat to him, she glared at his back. The narrow,
overgrown path forced them to walk single file. The pack he wore added bulk to
his already massive frame, making it impossible to see past him. She was
getting tired of seeing
him.
The way he moved with silent ease, the
sureness in his step, the pure masculine grace.

Needing
a distraction, she reached into the pocket of her parka, pulled out an energy
bar, and opened it.

Without
looking back, Noah asked, “Got another one of those handy?”

Attie
held the bar between her teeth and reached into her pocket for the other one.

“Here.”
She tossed it to him.

He
caught it in midair without missing a step. “Thanks.”

Attie
ate hers as her thoughts turned to Brendan and the man who held him. Santiago
was no ordinary terrorist. He smuggled drugs into the States, but he had a
darker side not many knew about. Those who did didn’t live to tell about it,
with the exception of her. She had witnessed first-hand what kind of man he was
and she had the scars to prove it, both physically and emotionally. Shaking herself
out of the past, she stuffed the empty wrapper in her pocket and drilled
imaginary holes between Noah’s shoulder blades. So many regrets. So much lost.

“Watch
your step.”

“Wha—”
Attie muttered at the same time she tripped over a raised tree root. She
stumbled, cursed, and glared at Noah, who had stopped to turn and stare at her.

Regaining
her balance, she snapped, “I don’t need your help.”

“I
figured you were too busy boring holes into my skull to notice.”

“Back,”
she corrected under her breath. “We’re wasting time.”

Noah
gave her a long, measuring look. “Is this how it’s going to be, Attie?”

Her
chin lifted.

“Your
hostility is going to make for a difficult trip.”

She
raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to come alone.”

Anger
flickered in his eyes. Noah was a rock; he kept his emotions under control at
all times. She’d been envious of his restraint once. Attracted to it. Now it
annoyed her as much as it turned her on.

“Why?”

“What
do you mean why?”

“Why,”
Noah asked, his voice edged with steel, “would you want to face Santiago
alone?”

The
softly spoken question caught her so completely off guard she reared back. He
knew what kind of man Santiago was. He would kill Brendan without blinking an
eye if she didn’t follow his instructions. Noah’s presence only jeopardized her
brother’s life.

“How
can you ask me that?” she asked. “With everything that has happened, how can
you not know?”

Noah’s
expression hardened. “All I know is that we’re in this together so you may as
well deal with it. If we don’t work as one, none of us are going to get out
alive.”

She
knew he was right, but couldn’t admit it. Wounds had been reopened when he
showed up at her door, and they were still raw. She was barely keeping her
fears at bay and being angry at Noah was an effective Band-Aid. But it wouldn’t
last. The wounds had to heal and she had no idea how to do that. It was easier
to stay angry and keep them at a distance. She didn’t want to remember how blue
his eyes were or how comforting his presence was. There had been times in the
field when she’d relied on him to get her through, but now she couldn’t do
that.

“Why
you?” she whispered, surprising both of them. “Of all the agents, why you?”

Noah
met her gaze directly. “Your brother trusts me.”

Attie
flinched. What had she expected? A confession? Noah was a professional. He
never let emotion get in the way of a job. This wasn’t the time or place to
settle the past between them.

“Trust,”
she scoffed. Such a lethal word that cut in both directions. “Will my brother’s
‘trust’ get him killed like it did Seth?”

“That’s
not fair,” he said quietly.

She
was too angry to care. “You cost me my mission and now Carlos has another shot
at not only me, but my brother too.”

He
winced as if she’d struck him. The reaction surprised her, but didn’t lessen
her anger.

“I
did what I thought was best for the safety of my agents,” Noah said softly,
revealing none of his feelings.

“Well,
you failed miserably in that, didn’t you?” She pushed past him, needing to put
distance between them. Noah cursed behind her, but she kept on going. Her
insides churned. Seth was dead. Mission failed. She lost a fellow agent, and
the bad guy got away.

She
had felt nothing but out of control since her return from South America and she
didn’t know how to get her life back. Brendan had been there to bring her back
from the edge when she needed him most. If she screwed this up, she was going
to lose him.

The
trees parted. Attie stopped short to stare up the face of a steep, rocky cliff.

Noah
came up behind her and did the same. “We’re going to have to climb.” He
shrugged out of his pack.

She
frowned down at him where he crouched by her legs. “What are you doing?”

“Lightening
your load. Give me anything that has weight out of your pack.”

“I
don’t think so.”

He
looked up at her. “I can climb with more weight.”

She
glared at him. “I’ll carry my own pack. I don’t need your help.”

He
squeezed the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a steep climb. You need
to concentrate on keeping your footing instead of the weight on your back.”

“I
carried one of my teammates out of ‘enemy territory’ in training, remember? I
passed with flying colors by your standards. My pack is much lighter than St.
Klare was.”

“This
isn’t the academy.”

“I
can carry
you
up this damn mountain.”

Scanning
the slope in front of him Noah said tightly, “I’ll go up first. Get your gear.”

* * * *

Attie
watched Noah leap onto the rocky slope, get a foothold, and inch his way
upward. He moved with ease and agility up the face of the cliff. Of course, he
made it look easy, but she knew better. This would be no simple task. Taking a
deep breath, she reached up and latched onto the rock.

Steadily
they climbed, with Attie following the path Noah chose. Occasionally a pebble
would come loose and bounce off her head.

Darkness
closed in around them. Attie could no longer feel her fingers. Fitting them
into tiny grooves became increasingly difficult. She could see the top and
paused a moment on her perch as Noah swung over the edge.

Legs
tight from exertion, her pack feeling fifty pounds heavier than when she’d
started, arms aching from strain, Attie secured a foothold and pushed upward.

She
tucked her numb fingers into a small groove above her head, but misjudged its
depth and her fingers slipped. With a cry she teetered on the edge, fighting to
keep her balance, but her pack proved to be more dangerous than she’d thought.
Its weight tilted her backward.

An
iron grip caught her wrist.

She
looked up to see Noah lying above her, holding her by one arm. His expression
was calm, his gaze steady.

“Get
a foothold, Attie,” he instructed.

She
twisted slightly and saw his jaw clench. As easily as possible, she shoved her
toe in a crevice.

“Got
one.”

“On
the count of three, push.”

“Okay.”

Noah
counted to three, and she pushed at the same time he pulled. Their combined
effort landed her a foot over the ledge, flat on her stomach, with her legs
hanging over.

Breathing
deep and fast, she rolled into a sitting position and scooted away from the
edge, drawing her knees up and locking her arms around them to stop her
trembling.

He
crouched beside her. “You okay?”

Without
looking at him she shook her head. She’d almost fallen to her death and ruined
everything. She was rusty, her skills not as honed as they’d been six months
ago.

He
squeezed her shoulder. “There’s a clearing in the trees behind you we can set
up camp in. Take your time.”

He
didn’t wait for her response before heading in that direction. Attie squeezed
her eyes shut and took a couple calming breaths. It was some time before she
was able to move closer to the fire Noah had built. Even then her legs shook
and she couldn’t seem to slow her heart rate.

Sitting
on the ground with her knees drawn up and her hands stretched toward the warmth
of the fire, she tried to stop them from shaking. She had her back to Noah,
staring into the flames, thinking of Brendan to distract herself from her near
fatal mistake and the fact that she now owed Noah her life. Irony was a brutal
thing.

Brendan
had always been larger than life to her. He’d been more of a risk taker, taking
up sky diving, rock climbing and flying. He loved to take her up in his Cessna
and scare the hell out of her by cutting the engine midair and free falling
until she couldn’t remain quiet anymore. When she gave in and screamed he’d
start the engine and pull them up every time. She swore she wouldn’t go again,
but found herself in the air with him the very next day.

Her
brother had been there for her after she returned from South America, taking a
leave of absence to help her through her recovery. He knew what she needed when
the nightmares got too much and would spar with her to help her release the
pent up energy. He always had a wisecrack to get her moving when her body ached
from the torment of healing.

He
tag-teamed with Uncle Jed to help her get through the tough times and she loved
them both for it. But the things she suffered couldn’t be helped. The
nightmares were not going away.

Closing
her eyes, she wished Brendan was sitting next to her and they were in Uncle
Jed’s kitchen bellyaching over his five-alarm chili that brought tears to their
eyes and made their noses run from all the spices.

One
way or another she would get him back. She would see Brendan again, his eyes
sparkling with mischief, teasing her about the restrictions of being a
girl
to get her ire up and push her to be the best she could be. She had, by
becoming the first woman to become an agent for ATCOM. Now she would use that
training to help free him from a madman.

Fear
of losing her brother clawed at her heart, causing a flood of anger to wash
through her, along with a familiar restlessness.

Noah
dropped down beside her and stared into the fire with her. “Should I take off
my coat and put on my boxing gloves?”

“Have
them with you?” she muttered, picking up a stick and throwing it into the fire.

“Is
that what you want, Attie?” he asked softly.

Physical
exercise was the only way she knew to alleviate the emotions Carlos evoked in
her. Even now he had power over her and it was destroying her. She knew it, but
couldn’t stop it. She tried to push the demons away, but they were always
stronger than her. Pounding them out on a punching bag worked much better.

Brendan
was usually there for her and that only made her more upset. Clenching her
fists at her sides and said, “Yes.”

“I
have a better idea,” he suggested. “How about talking about it.”

“I’d
rather you put on your gloves.”

“Your
first response to things you’re unsure of is anger. Sometimes, the things that
scare us don’t respond to anger.”

“Thank
you, Dr. Freud. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He
was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I know you’re running so fast you’ve
stopped living.”

She
shot to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “You know nothing, Kincaid.”

“You
can’t go on like this forever. Eventually your walls are going to fall and
you’re going to need someone to be there when they do. I’m going to be there.”

Shaking
with anger, she said, “It’ll be a cold day in Hell.”

* * * *

They
traveled at a good steady pace all the next day, searching for any clues that
might hint toward Brendan’s having been there, but found none. Frustrating, but
she expected nothing less from Santiago. His paranoia kept him sharp as a tack.
If he wanted her brother hidden, then he would be. Still, she didn’t give up
searching for something—anything—that would give her a jump on him.