“You shoot and you’ll hit her first.”
Lacey felt Bobby duck his head behind hers to demonstrate. “You don’t shoot, and she dies as you watch. You’ll never get her out of here alive.” Bobby gestured to the walls of the cabin. Lacey gasped, spotting the tiny wires that crisscrossed every smooth surface.
He’d rigged the cabin to burn.
Jack’s eyes widened at something behind her. She turned her head the slightest bit and peered out of the corner of her eye, stretching her peripheral vision. Bobby was holding a small remote control in his hand.
She didn’t think it was for a TV.
“Fuck! God damned fucking idiot!”
Pattison’s face turned a dark shade of red, and Mason wondered how high the man’s diastolic pressure was.
“Your boyfriend just walked in the front door of the cabin. Bold as brass. He’s gonna get himself killed.”
Mason silently cheered for Harper, the arrogant prick, and then cursed him for his foolishness. Sticking his nose in police business, making the situation more deadly. Thinking with his cock instead of his head.
“Then what happened?” Ray’s voice sounded strangled; he was probably thinking the same. Gotta admire the man for pure stupid guts.
“Nothing. No sound from the place. Your civilian was armed too.” Pattison turned accusing eyes on the pair of detectives. “You didn’t tell me he was packing.”
“Didn’t know.” Mason shrugged. “He was a cop.”
Mason raised a brow at Ray, and his partner’s gaze dropped. Ray’d known and kept it to himself. Mason pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to blast his partner in front of General Patton. He’d blister him later in private.
Pattison kicked the tire of the SWAT truck. “Now I’ve got two God damned hostages to get out of there. Shit!”
Robert prided himself on being flexible and well prepared. His situation had just taken an abrupt turn and he would handle it. He’d pictured himself in this exact situation, holding a hostage with a gun trained on his head. But he’d always thought it’d be a cop holding the gun. Not a boyfriend.
Well, the man used to be a cop. Cop and boyfriend in one. Delicious.
Harper’s brows narrowed as he registered the stupidity of his actions. He’d spotted the wired walls and remote detonator. Bet Harper wasn’t feeling so smart now. One should always explore and think through every action before implementing it.
Running off half-cocked gets you in deep shit. Like right now.
A rush of power swelled in Robert’s chest. He’d outsmarted everyone.
He felt Lacey twist her head, and he tightened his rope the slightest bit. She froze. He had control of the entire situation. His thumb played with the button on his detonator. A very small twinge of sorrow flashed at the inevitable loss of this home. So much had happened here. So much he’d learned here.
He crushed the feelings and smiled at Jack. “Face it, Harper. You can’t both get out of here alive. Turn around and leave and one of you survives.”
“You’ll die too.”
Did he think he was stupid? “No shit, Sherlock. But death doesn’t scare me. If that’s what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do. Either way I’ll never be forgotten.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose. Good. He was confused.
Robert felt Lacey’s back relax and she swayed gently to one side. He’d cut off her air and she was passing out. No! She had to be conscious for this. He loosened the rope several notches and tried to straighten her with his knees.
Abruptly she flung herself to the left, yanking the rope out of his relaxed grip.
He never heard the shots.
Lacey thought Jack had gotten her message. She’d looked into his eyes, then swung her gaze to the floor at her left five times. He’d slightly dipped his chin in a nod.
She took a deep breath and swayed as if the blood was cut off to her head. She felt Bobby relax the death rope and she dived to the side.
Jack’s gun roared twice and the cabin walls flashed as the charges instantly exploded, and the ceiling burst into flames with a deafening hiss.
“Go, Jack! Get out!” There wasn’t time for him to get her out. She was still tied to the ring by a mass of knots. Sobbing, she curled up in a ball on the hard floor. She hid her face between her arms and prayed she wouldn’t feel too much pain.
“Jesus Christ!”
Jeff Cordova jerked his eye away from the scope on his sniper rifle. Flames had simultaneously flared behind every cabin window and would have blinded him if not for the safety feature in the night vision.
He’d been idly listening through his earpiece as his commander bitched about the dumbshit civilian when the crack of two shots pierced the quiet forest. Before Jeff could pass on that information, the cabin exploded in flames.
“It’s on fire! He set the place on fire!”
In his earpiece, he could hear the other snipers yelling, drowning out any instructions from Pattison.
Jeff took two steps toward the inferno and halted. He wasn’t prepared to enter a burning building. Scanning the surrounding forest, he searched for the two entry teams who’d been standing by, waiting to storm the place. He yanked out his earpiece. The panicked yelling was deafening in his ear. He couldn’t think.
“Noooo! Jack, no!”
At the shout behind him, Jeff swung around. A tall man was racing toward him, his gaze locked on the flames. Jeff brought up his weapon, simultaneously registering the man’s black knit hat and jacket. He jerked his rifle down. The other civilian.
The man sprinted past, but Jeff leaped on him, taking him down in the snow with an illegal football tackle. The man fought, kicking Jeff in the face. “Let go! Let me go! I’ve got to get them out!”
Jeff threw his bulk on the man’s back and pulled back on the thrashing arms.
“Get the fuck off! I’ve got to get in there!”
Jeff gave the man’s arms a rough jerk up and pushed his face in the snow. “You can’t go in there! It’s too late!”
The man abruptly stopped fighting, his chest heaving. He slowly raised his face in the direction of the fire. He mumbled, his words sounding wet.
Jeff looked to the fire and his stomach heaved. In fifteen seconds, the flames had already broken through the thin cabin roof. The clouds of black smoke mixed with the falling snow.
No one could live through that.
The eight-year SWAT veteran had never felt so powerless.
Two shots rang through the forest. At base camp, every head jerked toward the trees in the direction of the unseen cabin.
“That your sniper?” Mason shouted at Pattison, who shook his head. A look of fear slashed the commander’s face, shocking Mason with its vulnerability.
“It’s on fire,” Pattison whispered, his eyes wide. He connected astounded gazes with Mason.
“What’s on fire?” Lusco yelled.
“The cabin. The fucking cabin. Team one, get your asses in there!” Pattison’s face flushed with rage. He was back in charge. “Cordova! Black! Ellison! What do you see?”
Mason ran toward the trees, only to have Ray grab his arm. Angrily shaking him off, Mason whirled on the younger man to lash him verbally, but the furious look in Ray’s eyes stopped him.
“What the fuck can you do? You’ll just get in their way!”
Mason couldn’t speak, his heart in his throat.
Ray was right.
Instead, he stared at the growing golden glow in the forest, closed his eyes, and silently prayed.
Lacey coughed and gagged.
The smoke was thick, painfully drying out her mouth and throat. Just a minute more. Another minute and the smoke’ll knock me out and I won’t feel the flames. She ground her face into the floor and shuddered. The room heated rapidly, the orange flames feet away.
She wailed. She was going to burn. Like those girls in the morgue. Like her most horrible nightmare.
“There you are.” Lacey felt strong hands try to lift her. Something was thrown over her face. Jack!
He couldn’t move her; she was still tied to the ring. She heard him curse and yank at the ropes. She went limp, crying. He couldn’t untie her in time. “Get out! Put me down and get out!” she screamed. She felt him jerk the ropes again and she pushed at him with her tied hands, her vision blocked by his jacket on her face. Get out!
He dropped her shoulders to the floor and pain shot to her brain. She felt him move away and she exhaled. Good! He was leaving. He’d be safe.
Lacey felt a vibration at the rope attached to her ankles. Jack had a knife and was sawing at the rope. The tension on the rope vanished and her legs jerked. The knife clattered to the floor and he scooped her up.
Stupid bastard! There wasn’t time to grab her! She kicked and thrashed in his arms, tossing her head to get rid of his jacket across her face.
“Lacey! Hold still, damn it!”
She felt him trip. They fell and he landed on her, forcing the breath from her lungs. She struggled to twist away. He had to get out!
“Don’t make me knock you out! Stop fighting me!”
His hands lifted her again, this time tossing her over his shoulder like a kid with a backpack. The jacket opened at her face and she breathed deep.
Her throat broiled, searing the tissues as she coughed and gagged. Her vision dimmed and she fought for air. There was none. She floated away on the smoke.
What was she doing?
Jack struggled to keep hold of Lacey, stunned that she was fighting him.
He’d seen his shots rip two holes in the bastard’s forehead, and then he’d lost sight of Lacey as a rapid chain reaction of charges ripped across the walls, instantly filling the room with black smoke. DeCosta must have hit the button just before the bullets connected. Dropping to his knees, he’d crawled in her direction, trying to hold his jacket over his nose and mouth. His eyes burned and watered in the potent smoke.
And then he found her. Curled up in a ball, coughing. Not even trying to get out.
She’d given up.
She’d fought him, kicking and swinging her tied hands. Her eyes clenched shut.
He’d sucked in a deep breath and held it, covering her face with the jacket and lifting her into his arms. But she was tied to the floor. He’d yanked at the ropes and panic had swept over him. He remembered Alex’s knife in his boot. With a sob of relief, he’d cut her loose and lifted her again. That’d worked until she’d made him trip by thrashing around.
He wasn’t going to screw this up.
He took a deep breath, held it, and tossed her over his shoulder. Bent over, he headed toward the door. “What...” A low table bumped against his shins, nearly knocking him down again. His mind scrambled.
Fuck! There hadn’t been a table near the door.
He’d lost direction in the smoke and confusion.
Lacey stopped kicking and slumped limp against his back. Lord, no!
Jack blindly turned ninety degrees and pushed through the darkness. His head spun from lack of air. He couldn’t hold his breath much longer. He felt his bare arms and face started to blister from the heat. Panic flickered in his oxygen-starved brain.
Where was the fucking door?
Mason and Ray ran through the trees after Pattison. If the commander was headed to the scene, then Mason was too. Generalized chaos was rippling through all the cops. Shouting and confusion reigned in the forest.
They emptied into a clearing. And into hell.
They couldn’t see the cabin. It was an inferno. Red and orange flames erupting with black, choking smoke. The heat singed Mason’s face through the icy air and he stepped back. And he wasn’t that close.
“Dear God,” Ray whispered, gaze locked on the fire.
Mason could only stare.
A loose circle of cops and SWAT was forming around the clearing. Everyone staying safely back, avoiding the smoke and sparks. Searching and hoping to catch a sign of life. Any sign.
Mason squeezed his eyes shut and felt the hot glow through his lids. What utter hell were Harper and Lacey suffering through?
A shout went up off to his right and a blonde woman stumbled out of the forest. Mason’s heart stopped for a double beat.
She’d made it.
He blinked away the smoke. It wasn’t Dr. Campbell. His heart fell into his stomach. Lacey was in the fire.
The woman rushed the burning cabin, and three cops grabbed her. She fought against their holds, screaming, but Mason couldn’t make out the words.
“Shit. That’s Kelly Cates!” Ray shouted over the din.
What the fuck was going on?
More shouts pulled their attention away from the woman. Something was moving in the flames. And it was human.
Mason’s jaw dropped as he watched Harper stumble out of the flames with Lacey over his shoulder. Harper dropped to his knees and fell forward, throwing her to the ground and ripping the burning coat from her face. His hair smoked and one arm of his shirt was on fire.
Every man dashed to the couple. Someone threw a coat over Jack’s arm and choked the flames out. Mason tossed his own jacket on Jack’s head, crushing the flames trying to start in his hair. He caught Jack as he pitched forward. The man’s face was black, his hands blistering. He tried to talk but no sound came out.
Officers dragged the victims a safe distance from the fire. Mason plunged Harper’s burned hands into the snow. Harper’s bloodshot gaze grabbed Mason’s and he tried to speak again.
Mason shook his head. “Don’t try to talk.”
The burned man pushed against Mason, trying to twist to see Lacey.
She lay unmoving on her back in the snow, arms spread out from her sides. Two men administered CPR.
A painful cry came from Harper’s burned throat, and Mason grabbed him as the man awkwardly lunged in her direction. Mason wrapped his arms around Harper’s shoulders and held on. Through Harper’s back, Mason could feel the man’s heart pound. He finally deciphered Harper’s garbled words.
“Is she dead?”
Mason couldn’t answer. The cops were still doing CPR. Don’t let her die. Harper’s shoulders sagged and he leaned heavily on Mason.
The cop at her head gestured for the other to stop his compressions. His fingers were curled under her jaw, feeling for her pulse. His head bent close, watching for the rise and fall of her chest. The pause seemed infinite. Then he grinned and nodded at the other cop. “She’s breathing, pulse is steady.”
Harper sucked in a huge rattling breath. “Thank you, God,” he croaked.
Mason silently seconded that.