Attraction
Ron waited. Earlier, he had heard the faint sound of voices approaching the entrance to the canyon. He hadn’t heard the crashing of rocks or the cursing of surprise. They had discovered his trap. It was to be expected. Even though Jackson hadn’t officially graduated from Delta school, he had been through the training. If he was smart enough to avoid the trip wire, he surely wouldn’t be stupid enough to come into the canyon through the main entrance.
Ron had steadied himself under his homemade crutch and hobbled off to a secondary location. He hadn’t hurried. After discovering the trip wire, they would be moving more slowly. And slowing them down was his prime purpose in this fight. He had lost a lot of blood. The odds of him engaging two trained killers and coming out on top were not very good. But that didn’t really matter. As long as Matt had enough time to get the boys to safety, his mission would be accomplished. He’d already died once today—already seen the highlights of his life pass before his eyes. He’d always known he’d get the chance to sacrifice his life someday. He’d known it since he was a kid. He just didn’t think it would be this soon.
He imagined the route they would take in their approach. It wasn’t hard to do. He just needed to try to think like Jackson. That was easy. Jackson would think like a Delta. He would think like Ron. Jackson would take the same route he would take in a similar situation—the fissure that cut off a few meters before the entrance to the canyon. That was the easy part. The hard part was to know what Jackson would do after he emerged from the fissure. Unlike the main entrance, there was no good vantage point where Ron could see them when they came out. There was good cover for at least thirty yards. The best Ron could do was pin them down until his ammo ran out, which wouldn’t be very long. There were two of them, and they could take turns providing cover fire as the other one moved to flank him. His Glock 23 held thirteen rounds. He figured this would give him about five minutes once the shooting began, maybe ten or fifteen if they were really cautious and he was really lucky. He had no illusions as to what would happen after that. Even with the crutch, he couldn’t move fast, and his shooting hand had already been rendered useless.
He still might be able to take one of them out in the encounter, and he wanted it to be Jackson. Despite Jillian’s shooting him, he didn’t harbor any ill will toward her. She was a product of her environment. Jackson, on the other hand, had managed to receive all the advantages of Delta operator training and was still screwed up.
Ron winced as he wedged himself into position. He thought he heard a rattling of rocks near where the fissure would be. Soon it would be time.
* * *
It was easier than Jillian thought to find the back trail into the canyon. What looked precarious from below was actually not too bad, except in a couple of places. The trail was easy to find and easy to follow, and from the markings on the ground, she got the feeling it had been traveled recently by more than just a mountain goat.
She wondered if this had all been a ruse and whether she and Jackson might find nothing but an empty canyon when they got inside. But the one thing she didn’t see was blood. If the Delta had come out this way, he probably would have left a trail.
She thought about turning around, finding Jackson, and telling him the prey had most likely left the area, but every step she took into the canyon made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was danger in front of her, she was sure of it. So she pressed forward, turning what should be fear into excitement, proving to herself that she was not a whiny little girl.
And then she rounded a corner and saw the body. It was wedged into the hole of a rock, and all she could see was the tip of a gun and a few fingers on one hand. The hand wasn’t moving. Maybe the Delta had set his trap and then crawled into a hole to die. But then the hand moved. Just slightly, but it moved.
Jillian wasn’t sure what she had expected to feel at seeing the Delta alive. Maybe the furious anger she had felt earlier when he had said the things he’d said about her mother, maybe satisfaction at getting the opportunity to kill him again, maybe anything other than what she was feeling right now, which was a sense of relief that he wasn’t dead. Why would she feel relieved? The thought of killing someone had never bothered her before. At least not for many years. She shook her head to clear it. The encounter with the little chubby kid had rattled her. And what was the Delta doing down there in those rocks anyway?
Then she realized: the Delta knew exactly what Jackson was up to. He wasn’t watching the front entrance; he was positioned to catch someone shimmying up a hidden fissure and coming into the canyon from a more protected location. He was positioned perfectly to intercept Jackson when he emerged.
She felt the rush of exhilaration again and wondered what was happening to her. She was just curious, she told herself. It would be interesting to watch a battle between two men who had been trained in the unit. Of course, one of them was wounded pretty badly. He must have been wearing body armor under his shirt to have survived the shots to his chest, but the wounds in his hand and leg were no illusion. Jackson should have the upper hand in this contest. She suppressed the urge to laugh.
Her smile turned into a grimace when she realized how exposed her current position was, moving across the trail along the face of the cliff. If the Delta poked his head out and looked in her direction, he would surely see her. She needed to get to better cover before the shooting began. She also needed to make sure she didn’t dislodge any rocks and accidentally expose herself. She started to move to a more secure spot.
Jackson’s head popped up from the fissure, and he immediately nodded in her direction, letting her know he had seen her. She was too visible in the waning moonlight if he had spotted her that quickly.
A few large boulders blocked the Delta’s view of Jackson, but as soon as Jackson moved a few yards farther, he would become an easy target. For a moment, Jillian nearly allowed things to play out, not letting Jackson know he was heading for an ambush. She wondered if the Delta would give any warning or just take Jackson out. He was a religious man, after all, and a Scout leader, but he had also been trained to kill. Would he have the guts to take the shot?
She sighed, put two fingers to her eyes, and then pointed to the Delta’s position, letting Jackson know he was being watched. Observing a death match between two highly trained gladiators would have to wait. They had a mission to complete, and the Delta was in the way.
“Hey, Kelton,” Jackson yelled into the darkness. “You might as well give it up. You’re wounded pretty badly, and we’ve got you surrounded.”
What was Jackson doing?
“You don’t believe me? Take a peek behind you on the cliff. Jillian’s got a bead on you.”
Jillian swore and began to move faster. Jackson had just given up her position. He was using her as a distraction to improve his own situation. Before she could take two steps, the Delta emerged from his hole, leveled his pistol with his left hand, and pulled the trigger. No hesitation, no yelling for her to drop her gun, no special treatment because she was a woman. The bullet barely clipped her shoulder, nothing more than a crease, but the impact still spun her around, and she lost her footing on the narrow ledge.
He had shot her. Despite the wound, despite her frantic efforts to stop her slide down the talus slope, despite the fact that she soon might be face-planted on a rock, all she could think about was the Delta.
He had shot her.
She couldn’t help but smile. There had been no hesitation. He had shot her.
She didn’t think she had been this attracted to anyone in her entire life.