27
Her legs were getting tired.
Her fingers were growing numb.
Her body was beginning to shake from the cold.
She wasn’t going to be able to keep skating much longer.
And once she stopped, it was over.
Pressure built behind Christy’s eyes, and her vision blurred. She stumbled. Caught her balance.
Don’t cry! That will only give Neven more pleasure, and that’s the last thing you want to do. Right?
Right.
She needed to stay strong. Hang on to her control.
Opening and closing her fingers to stimulate circulation, she glided around a twig embedded in the ice and forced herself to face reality.
The FBI either wasn’t tracking her cell after all, or if they were, they weren’t going to get here fast enough.
Before she succumbed to cold and fatigue, she needed to play her final card. The one she’d dreamed up while going through her skating moves on autopilot, when her skate blade had sliced through a dead leaf caught in the ice and she’d realized she did have a weapon.
Skate blades could cut.
Toe picks were sharp.
Up close they could both do serious damage.
Pulse accelerating, she glided into a spiral, examining the perimeter as she circled the pond on one leg, the frigid air stinging her face. Still no sign of Neven. Why had he left his ringside seat . . . and why hadn’t he returned? Was he watching her from the shadows? Was he getting into position for a kill shot—or just trying to fluster her with his absence? Would he respond as she hoped after she laid her trap to lure him onto the ice . . . or simply shoot her and be done with it?
But if he killed her here, he’d have to carry her back through the woods to the car. That would be far too much trouble . . . wouldn’t it?
Maybe not. Who knew how his brain worked?
If she didn’t try this, though, she’d be dead soon anyway.
Better to go down fighting.
She made one more circuit of the pond. Neven remained MIA. Was there a remote possibility he wasn’t watching? That she had a window of opportunity to skate off the ice and disappear behind those cedar trees?
No.
This show was for him, and he wouldn’t want to miss any of it after going to such great lengths to set it up. He was there, in the darkness, enjoying every minute of the command performance. Waiting for her to drop. Relishing the idea of literally bringing her to her knees.
Well, she wasn’t going to give him that chance.
Heart pounding, she finished the spiral, furtively worked off one glove, and picked up speed.
Now!
She set up for a double axel. Jumped. Rotated in the air.
And as she prepared to land, she lifted her hand and took the final step to make the ruse seem authentic—praying that if Neven fell for it, the ending of this story would be far different than the one he had planned.
Lance watched Christy leap, rotate—and fall hard on the unforgiving surface. She crumpled into a heap and skidded across the ice, coming to rest near the center of the pond.
And she didn’t get up.
As she lay there still as death, every muscle in his body tensed.
Mark’s vise-like fingers tightened on his arm. “Don’t move!” The hissed words were soft but terse.
Fisting his hands, Lance wrestled his instinctive spring-into-action response into submission. His colleague was right. Neven was out there somewhere. If they exposed their position now and the man panicked, the situation could go south very fast.
“This might draw him out.” Mark loosened his grip, inspected the perimeter of the lake with his NVGs, then spoke into the mike. “Everyone hold. Keep a sharp eye out for our target.”
Lance lifted the night-vision binoculars again. The tremor in his fingers was a new experience on a mission . . . but he’d never been trying to save the life of a woman he was falling in love with, either.
As he zoomed in on her motionless form, he sucked in a breath. Despite the green NV hue, he had no problem spotting the growing, dark pool on the ice beside her temple.
“She’s bleeding!”
“I saw that.” Mark’s voice remained calm. “There’s a paramedic team waiting at the barn by now.”
A lot of good that did them. Christy needed medical help here. Now.
He forced his lungs to keep working and scrutinized her face. It appeared the blood on the ice was coming from a gash on her temple. She must have hit her head hard or she wouldn’t be . . .
He blinked.
Looked again.
Had her eyelash flickered?
He skimmed the rest of her body. One hand was curled into a fist—and she appeared to be breathing fast. Not typical symptoms of unconsciousness. The blood was real, but . . . could she have fallen on purpose?
His brain began firing. “Mark, I think the fall might be a trick to lure Terzic onto the ice.” He recapped what he’d noticed. “Getting him onto her territory would help level the playing field, give her a fighting chance.”
The other agent studied Christy. “You think she’d actually try a stunt like that?”
“Without question. You don’t get to be an Olympic athlete without taking calculated risks—and fighting to win.”
Silence while Mark mulled that over.
“I guess it’s not outside the realm of possibility. Let’s see if it works.”
As Mark filled in the rest of the team and gave another set of instructions, Lance continued to watch Christy. If this was an act, she was doing a stellar job. Despite the cold that must be seeping through her leggings and inadequate jacket, she wasn’t moving a muscle. Her willpower and discipline had to be off the chart.
Either that, or she was really hurt.
Whichever it was, though, her fall was going to force Terzic to react. This drama was about to end.
One way or the other.
An accident wasn’t part of his plan.
From his perch in the deer blind, Terzic glared down at Christy. She’d warned him the surface was too rough for skating, and the several hard falls she’d taken in the past half hour were proof of that. Still, watching her get bruised and battered had been a plus from his perspective.
But it would have been nice to have another thirty minutes of fun before he ended the show.
That didn’t appear to be in the cards, however. Not with that blood on her forehead. And if she was dizzy once she came to, getting her back to the car through the woods was going to be a bear. It would also take longer than he’d planned.
He needed to wrap this up.
Shifting carefully in the confined space, he scanned the area around the perimeter of the pond. All was quiet.
Nevertheless, he hesitated.
Was it possible those breaking twigs that had sent him scurrying for the cover of the deer blind had been caused by humans rather than a roving deer or raccoon? Or was he overreacting?
Surely it had to be the latter. No one suspected he had Christy—or knew where he was on this cold night.
Yet something didn’t feel right.
Better to test the waters before he ventured into the open.
He felt around until his fingers closed over a half-empty box of ammunition on the floor. Tucking himself close to the rear wall, he lobbed it through an opening, putting as much muscle behind the throw as possible.
A few seconds later, it crashed into the undergrowth in the distance.
Then he waited.
And watched.
“Our guys on the west side are checking it out. It could be a deer.”
As Mark relayed the gist of his radio transmission, Lance tried to rein in his impatience. “Too coincidental with Christy’s fall.”
“I’m inclined to agree. But let’s wait for a report. If it was a deer, our target will be spooked too. He’ll be on edge and jittery.”
That made two of them.
Two eternal minutes later, Mark pressed a finger to his ear. “Copy. Kurt and Brett, get where you need to be.” He swiveled around. “No sign of an animal, but while our guys were investigating the noise, they think they saw a movement in the deer blind.”
Knowing Terzic’s position was good; the position itself wasn’t.
“That spot gives him a direct line of sight to Christy. He finds out we’re here, he could pull the trigger—and blind shots by us might not take care of him fast enough to stop a fatal bullet from finding her.” Lance motioned toward the north side of the pond. “Those chairs and generator are outside the circle of light. If we could turn off the generator, that would give us a window to get her out of harm’s way.”
“You’re assuming he doesn’t have NVGs.”
“Yeah, I am. But if he does have them, I doubt he was wearing them for the show.”
“The show’s over.”
“Look . . .” Lance did the quick mental fact-sort he’d perfected in Delta Force. “Why bother with NVGs if you’re going to light up the pond? They restrict peripheral vision, and unless you’re used to wearing them, they’re annoying. If he illuminated that”—he gestured to the pond—“I’m betting he used a flashlight on their walk through the woods.”
“There’s a lot hinging on that bet.”
As if he didn’t know that.
“Do you have any other ideas about how to flush him out? Christy’s bleeding, and if she doesn’t already have hypothermia, she’ll get it fast lying on that ice. If Terzic hasn’t come out on his own by now, do you really think he’s going to? He must be spooked already, and if that was a deer in the brush rather than an attempt on his part to draw us out, he’s going to be more cautious than ever. Since we can assume he plans to kill Christy anyway, he can wait for hours to see if we make a move. She can’t.”
His logic was hard to refute—but Mark had nailed it. If he’d called this wrong, if Terzic had NVGs, this could backfire.
Big time.
But doing nothing wouldn’t be an option much longer, given Christy’s perilous position.
“I’m assuming you want to use the window of darkness before Terzic snaps on his flashlight—or whatever light source he has—to grab Christy.”
“Yes. Once I have her, we can take cover behind those cedar trees.” He motioned toward the small cluster of dense evergreens at the edge of the pond.
“After you cross the slippery ice.”
“I played hockey. I’ve been around ice.” Years ago . . . but he left that unsaid.
“On skates.”
Lance gave the SWAT team leader a steady look. “I can do this, Mark. I was involved in dozens of high-stakes rescues in The Unit. I know how to evaluate risk and develop a strategy to minimize it.”
Three long seconds crawled by.
“Okay. Given the circumstances, it’s not a bad option, and I think it could work—assuming our target isn’t wearing NVGs. I’ll get the guys set. How much time do you need to get into position?”
“We’ll cover you as best we can if Terzic gets trigger happy once the lights go out. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
But as he slipped away and began to descend toward the pond, Lance knew they’d need a whole lot more than luck to pull off this operation without bloodshed.
No one was here except him and Christy. She hadn’t stirred—nor had anyone else since he’d thrown the box of bullets into the woods.
He just had a case of nerves.
Neven fingered his pistol and exhaled. Being a little jittery was understandable in the final stage of a brilliant plan that had accomplished exactly what he’d intended without creating so much as a blip on the radar of law enforcement. It was a perfect example of his organization and planning skills—and a perfect example of why he should have been so much more than a maintenance man. He was management material.
Too bad he couldn’t put this whole operation on a résumé. It would certainly be impressive.
Smirking at the thought of listing such an item under the heading of accomplishments, he edged toward the ladder and took one last look at Christy from his elevated perch. Still motionless. Too bad. He wouldn’t mind watching her stagger to her feet and wobble through another few spins and jumps.
On the plus side, though, the temperature was dropping fast—and an early end to the show would allow him to get to the best part of the evening sooner.
The part where he ended the life of the woman who’d ruined his.
Adrenaline surging, he started to lower his legs to the ladder.
Suddenly, the night went pitch black.
What the . . . ?
He scrambled back into the blind, wedged himself in a corner, and peered through a crack. The generator had plenty of fuel. There should have been more than . . .
A movement on the ice caught his eye, and he homed in on it. A shadow on the surface was scooting toward the trees on the side of the pond.
Christy!
She was trying to get away!
Neven’s mouth hardened as a surge of anger swept over him. No way.
He lifted his gun, steadied his arm, and took aim.