With the help of the walking stick, Lucy climbed to the top of the ridge, aiming for the path that led to the Holmstead house. Once off the scree with its shifting ground, she felt more secure and was able to move fairly silently, if slowly, through the forest. She sensed animals moving but couldn’t see or hear them. Nothing seemed to be coming close—if anything, they were headed away from the ravine and the bear trap. Then she heard the distant growl of an ATV coming up the trail Gleason had used this morning. No, make that two all-terrain vehicles coming from the direction of the house. Davenport and his men.
At most she could expect four bad guys. Three, if Amy and Gus were still alive and one had been left to guard them. But best to count on four. If she took care of them, she could deal with everything else.
The trick would be to get them to reveal themselves, then for her to get close enough to take them out one by one, using the Beretta as the last resort—the sound and muzzle flare would give her position away.
No food, no water, no ankle brace to support her leg on this rugged terrain, no jacket, no Kevlar, no backup…at least none coming anytime soon. It would depend on when Gleason received Nick’s message and how long it took him to get here. She reassessed her assets. In addition to her Beretta and folding knife, she had what was left of the roll of duct tape, the map of the bear traps that Gleason had given her, her MagLite and walking stick, belt, holster…oh! She wore it every day; how could she have forgotten? The bracelet Megan had given her—it was made of woven paracord. Perfect.
She released the bracelet’s plastic clasp and pocketed the handcuff key secreted within—Megan had initially added it as a joke, but that handcuff key had saved Lucy’s life back in January—and unwound the black paracord. For some reason, clutching the length of thin rope in her hand she felt stronger, more confident about the outcome.
True, the bad guys were fighting over a priceless treasure and maybe also trying to get away with murder, but Lucy was fighting for something so much more precious: her family.
Davenport and his men didn’t stand a chance.
First, she needed to lead them away from Nick. No; first she’d set her traps. Then draw them in before they reached Nick.
She scrambled down the forested side of the hill and staked out a chokepoint where the trail narrowed and she found two trees just the right distance apart. She tied the paracord at neck height, stretching it taut. The black cord was invisible in the darkness. Then she found a place for her ambush—a slight rise in the trail just before the choke point. She bent a long, flexible branch down, fastened her belt around it, then anchored the belt with a rock on the side of the trail. She could just make out her belt buckle glistening in the faint moonlight.
Then she sidled silently down the trail until she reached a sharp curve. Once she rounded it, she jogged as fast as she could, heading directly behind the path of the ATVs that, from the noise, weren’t far away at all.
When she grew close to the ATVs, she turned her MagLite on and used it to light her way, purposefully waving it so they’d see someone there but not well enough to aim accurately. She hoped.
Finally, one of the men spotted her light reflecting from the treetops and shouted to his companions. The ATVs slowed to a stop. Lucy could see the men turning toward her, their faces pale in the dim light. The ATV closest to her held two men. Lucy aimed her light directly into the passenger’s eyes as he turned around in his seat and raised his weapon. Then she spun, turned off her light, and raced back down the trail. The whine of the ATVs gunning their engines as they turned around on the narrow trail to follow her filled the night sky.
Her bad ankle almost tripped her up—without the brace, her toes tended to drag on the ground—but the walking stick kept her upright, and she managed to reach her belt just as the ATVs sped around the curve. She tugged on the belt, releasing the tree limb so that it sprang back hard enough to rustle the brush while she dove into her ambush site on the other side of the path.
She drew her pistol and waited, quieting her breathing.
“Where’d she go?” A man’s voice sounded over the noise of the ATVs.
“There’s movement in the trees.”
“Cut her off!”
The first ATV, the one carrying two men, sped up while the second slowed and its driver fired his AR-15 into the shuddering bushes across from where Lucy lay in wait. Then came the scream of a man as the first ATV’s driver was caught by her paracord clothesline.
Lucy came up beside the second ATV, whose driver was now facing away from her as he aimed into the trees. “Drop it,” she told him.
He started to lower his rifle but the third man, who’d been riding behind the driver on the lead ATV, appeared in her periphery. Before she could do anything, he began to fire. He had his semi-automatic rifle on burst and let loose a volley of shots in rapid succession, all hitting wide of the mark as he lost control, going wide and high.
Lucy dove, using the ATV for cover and the muzzle flash to target the shooter. The man above her cried out as the flurry of bullets ripped through him and fell forward, motionless.
She fired at the shooter. Two quick shots, center mass. He grunted in pain, dropping his weapon as he slumped to the ground. Cautiously, she crept toward the stalled lead ATV. Its driver was nowhere to be seen—the clothesline maneuver may have stunned him, but it clearly hadn’t incapacitated him.
She turned back to the man on the dirt between the two ATVs. He had the AR-15 with the thermal imaging scope. He was still breathing but in short gasps, blowing blood-tinged bubbles with each breath. She took his rifle, but before she could raise it to sight through the scope, a burst of gunfire from the trees beyond her drove her back behind the ATV for cover. Damn, the last man must also have night vision capacity. And he was a much better shot than his partner. There was a rustle of bushes as he left the trail, taking cover himself.
The all-terrain vehicle was low to the ground, but Lucy was skinny enough to belly crawl under it. She sighted into the bushes with the rifle, searching for a heat signature—while hoping that the ATV’s engine would help to conceal hers. Nothing, nothing, nothing… He couldn’t be moving, she’d see that, so he must also be behind cover. She chose the largest tree, the one she’d choose if she was searching for cover, and kept it in the center of her sights.
She was rewarded. As the engine cooled, ticking away the seconds of camouflage it could provide, the white figure of a man’s heat signature emerged, sighting his rifle directly at her. She fired first. Single shots, one, two, three, all aimed center mass. He lurched back, his arms flailing up, and then fell.
Lucy crawled out from under the ATV. Her ears were ringing, making the forest seem otherworldly in its silence. She methodically checked each man. All dead. She took one dead man’s magazine from his weapon and used its rounds to top off the magazine of the rifle she kept. They had satellite phones, so she called 911 and got Harriet and quickly explained the situation.
“Judith’s already headed that way,” Harriet told her. “She might even be at the house—she got a text alert from one of Gleason’s bear traps and tried to reach him and couldn’t, so she knew he’d be out there.”
“Why would Judith get alerts for the traps?”
“If an animal’s injured, she has to be prepared.”
“Call her, tell her to find cover, stay put, and wait for backup. She could be walking into a hostage situation. There’s at least one more armed man out there.” Davenport hadn’t been with his partners. Lucy could only hope that he had kept Gus, Amy, and Gleason alive to use as bargaining tools.
“I’ll call you back.” Harriet hung up.
Lucy started the ATV and began down the trail towards the Holmstead house. She wasn’t intending to do more than surveil the situation and wait for backup, but then Harriet called.
“Judith isn’t picking up, and it will be twenty minutes at least before I can get anyone to you—probably longer because the deputies are out ferrying search volunteers all over God’s green earth.”
“Call the state police, get them moving. And EMS—they can get Nick out of the bear trap. But tell them not to come anywhere near the house until the scene is clear.” Lucy cut the ATV’s engine as she reached the burnt out tree that marked the turnoff to the main house. She climbed off and moved as quickly and quietly as she could down the gravel path toward the house.
“What are you going to do?” Harriet asked.
Lucy was still a hundred yards out when she heard two gunshots. Damn. No time left.
“I’m going in.”