Trinity: Military War Dog (52 page)

“You really have a thing about being alone with me.”

“No.”

At the frantic word, Heath reached through the void for her. He caught her shoulder, surprised when his fingers tangled in hair. It must’ve come loose when they impacted. “Hey, it’s just a joke.”

“The darkness—”

“Hang on. Got it.” He reached toward his shoulder lamp. “Watch your eyes.” He twisted the barrel and light exploded around them. “Trinity?” He turned and checked the corners and crevices. “Crap.” Other words filled his mind, imagining his girl trapped, buried in the snow.

The team! Did they get buried. Were they lost?

“So … we
are
alo—on our own.” Her eyes sparkled, the light of his shoulder lamp glinting off the mahogany irises. Wide. With fear.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get out.”

“How?”

He didn’t have the answers, but he wouldn’t accept that they would die in this cave. Could they dig their way out? How much snow had heaped on them?

“We’ll get out.”

“Where are they?”

Ignoring the question, Haur clambered over the mound of snow that had dumped down the mountain, narrowly avoiding him and the others who took shelter beneath the lip of the overhang. Hands plunged through soft, shifting snow. Cold seeped up his sleeves and made his bones ache. Balancing on a boulder that had made the journey with the snow, Haur wobbled. Weak knees, trembling hands. The terror of being buried alive had choked off any bravado or confidence he’d held a few seconds earlier.

That and the conviction that he knew what caused the avalanche. But revealing that would get him killed.

Soldiers skittered back and forth. Dropping to their knees, digging with gloved hands. A couple produced collapsible shovels, then went to work.

“Anyone got them?” Watterboy threw himself over one mound after another, searching. Shouting.

Haur slid a glance to Bai, who stood back, staring. No, not staring. Watching. Enjoying. Haur had had his suspicions about his captain, but the movement out of the corner of his eye in the seconds before he heard the loud crack—which was really a
boom
—could only be one thing.

A grenade. Thrown by Bai up onto the shelf.

Which triggered the avalanche.

And buried Meixiang.

The soldiers rushed around. Frantic. Scared. His stomach churned. Meixiang had more information on Jianyu and the Chinese government than anyone else. He must be certain that information was protected. Kept from the wrong hands.

“Storm’s letting up.” Watterboy’s voice boomed over the unsettled area. “Candyman, we got coms?”

“No coms,” Rocket announced from his position.

Just as the storm had let up, the avalanche slowed them.

“Then get it! We need coms—
yesterday!”
Watterboy’s face was red, his posture rigid.

“There’s no signal,” said a shorter, black-haired man who sat on a pile of rocks.

“Then get off your lazy butt and get me one.” Watterboy’s shout echoed through the narrow valley as he stabbed a finger in a southern direction.

Haur shifted. Glanced up. South? Or was he pointing west? With the sun hiding behind the clouds and storm, there was no telling.

“Hey,” Candyman spoke with a hiss. “Lower your voice. Anything could trigger another one.”

The dog bounded around the area, sniffing, whimpering. The spook and the man he rescued—a man named Toque—trailed the dog.

A stream of curses mingled with the fluttering snow. “I want them found!”

Candyman knelt beside Trinity. “Where are they, girl? Find Ghost!”

Nose up, she sniffed. Leapt over upturned debris. Sniffing. Bounding.

It was hopeless, was it not? They would not find Ghost or the spy. Not with the way the snow heaped against the opening. Most likely they were buried anyway. That much of the mountain surely filled in the hole.

Watters went to his knees with a shovel and started digging. “They were right here. Let’s get them out.”

“Think that cave had another way out?”

Haur considered the question spoken with a British accent. “It is possible.”

“How would you know?”

Haur understood the animosity, even though he now knelt to aid in digging. “These mountains lead to the Wakhan Corridor and river in China. There are many tunnels and caves there.”

“Remember, Jia said she and that little girl found a way through another tunnel.”

“That’s right.”

“But we don’t know there was a way out. I went into that cave—there wasn’t anything but walls.”

“Keep digging,” Watterboy ordered.

Candyman shook his head. “What do you think about sending me, Scrip, and Putman on ahead to try to gain radio contact, get us help up here?”

Watterboy hesitated. Pushed back on his knees, sleeves soaked from digging. “Do it.”

Haur did not miss that Bai had not taken up the task of trying to find the Americans. He stood to the side. “We should help,” he said in their tongue.

“You saw how little regard they had for our people,” he replied back in kind. “How can I help save the life of a woman who betrayed and violated all of China?”

“Because you value life, not politics!”

He saw it. For a fraction of a second, Haur saw the sneer bleed into his captain’s face. And just as fast, it was gone.

Haur went back to digging, both figuratively and literally. His time was short. To accomplish his mission, to carry out his intentions, he must not let himself be sidetracked by anyone else’s leanings. “You will give them the wrong idea,” Haur muttered to Bai.

“As you are Colonel Zheng.”

He would not be goaded, not by this man, no matter how much he once trusted him. “‘Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.’” Slowly, Haur came to his feet. “It is prudent not to forget the ways of old, the proven tactics of our ancestors.” He let his gaze drift to Bai’s. “I see your doubts, both the spoken and unspoken. And I see more.” He let the words hang in the air. “We have our mission.”

“Why did you not go with them into the village to confront Jianyu?”

The moment of truth. Could he convince his captain? “Because the girl has become a higher priority. Do you realize who she is, Bai Ling?”

Question glittered in the man’s gaze. “You know?”

“Yes, I know. And do you see my brother here?” Vehemence streaked his words. “I will return her to General Zheng. I will restore honor to the Zheng name.”

Bai’s head tilted up slightly.

“Do
not
question me again, or I will make that your last.”

            Thirty-Nine              

F
ind anything?” Lonely and hollow, her voice skipped along the curves of the cave.

“No.” With that blinding light on his shoulder, Heath returned and crouched. His gray eyes bounced over her face. “You’ve got a sheen.”

She didn’t want him worrying about her. They had bigger obstacles to tackle. So, despite the pain and the fire dousing her courage, Darci managed a smile. “If that’s your best pickup line, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Ha. Ha.” He swiveled and went to one knee and tugged off his gloves. Heath pressed the back of his icy hand to her cheek. “You’re hot.”

Another smirk.

“Don’t,” he warned.

Darci couldn’t help but laugh at him stopping her comeback line. “What? It’s okay for you to be direct and forthright, but not me? You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“Easier said than done.” He smoothed out the thermal blanket. “Lie back down. You should rest. Who knows what’s ahead. I’ll pack ice around your fingertips. They’re bleeding again.”

“I can do that.”

“Don’t get all modest on me after making every comment into an innuendo.” Heath’s smile trickled through his words as he bent over her. “How’re your ribs?”

“Some guy just dove into them.”

“What a jerk.”

“Yeah.” Darci turned her face toward the wall, not out of modesty, but so he wouldn’t see her face tighten at the pain. She could still breathe, so he hadn’t done further damage, but holy cow, it hurt.

Cool air swept up her shirt as he lifted the blanket and took her hand. He hissed.

“That pretty?”

“As beautiful as you are, there’s no way something like this can be described as pretty.”

Darci’s pulse ricocheted off his words and thumped against her chest. Had he really just said she was beautiful? Was he being sarcastic? Only one way to gauge that—the eyes. She glanced back. Thick browridge—a sign of intelligence—hung over eyes laden with concern.

No sarcasm. Did he mean that?

Why was she wishing so hard that he had?

He angled around, then pushed on to his haunches, reaching for something. He turned back and his gaze collided with hers. Softness filled his features. Handsome, rugged, yet … soft.

“You just have to complicate things.”

White-hot fire shot through her. Then icy cold. She would swear she heard sizzling and realized he was packing snow and ice around her fingers to stop the bleeding. The pain blazed up her digits, through her wrist, and into her arms.

Darci squeezed her eyes and groaned.

A pause was followed by another application.

“Infection’s trying to flare up,” he said as he pressed a hand to her cheek. Awareness flared through her, but the pain and the severity of the situation doused that tremor of longing.