Sharp sparks of pain needled Hayley to groggy awareness. Her hands, her face and her right hip seemed to form the sources of the discomfort. What was going on? Memory flooded in along with consciousness. During an attack on her at the cabin, her hands and face had been struck by flying glass. But what was going on with her right hip? Where was she? A deep doggy snore beside her brought her fully awake.
Hayley stretched, the movement helping to identify the item digging into her hip. A small rock. She had been sleeping on her side beneath a Mylar blanket in a cave with her dog beside her. Last she remembered the stranger had gone to the cave’s mouth to stand watch.
Where was the undercover ATF agent now?
She lifted her head. Only the faint glow of the moon and stars illuminated the cave opening. No aurora borealis at the moment. Though the season to enjoy the light show had begun this past month, the appearances were sporadic. The way sunrise worked this time of year in central Alaska, it would be nearly 8:00 a.m. before dawn’s earliest light. There was no way for her to tell if it were the middle of the night or time to get up and get going for the day. A very precarious day if the risks discussed last night with the federal agent held true. As if she could doubt the danger after yesterday’s aggressive attack.
Heart rate ratcheting up, Hayley struggled to a sitting position. Various injured and strained portions of her anatomy protested, and she let out a small groan. Mack stirred, blinking almond-shaped eyes at her. She ruffled the dog’s thick scruff as her gaze scanned the area. She discerned a man-shaped shadow at the cave opening.
“Agent O’Keefe,” she called softly.
The shadow figure turned. “I’m here.” His tone was somber, but she could make out no expression on his face. “It’s Sean, remember?”
“Sean. Got it. What’s the time?”
“Going on seven-thirty. If you’re up to it, or even if you’re not, I think we should vacate this cave before it gets light enough for Patterson’s crew to come looking for us. None of those guys are trackers. They’re city boys, but they do know how to follow a blood trail, and you were leaving one.”
“I won’t be leaving one today.” She rose to her feet, ignoring the minor aches of a night spent on the unforgiving ground. “And I’m ready to go.”
“Good.” A smile was in his tone. “Let’s grab another one of those energy bars and a bottled water from your pack and then get out of here.”
“Sounds like a plan.” One of her body aches had indeed been in her stomach. They’d each eaten a bar, while Mack enjoyed a dog treat, last night before turning in—or at least before she turned in. “Have you been awake all night?”
“Not my first night with no sleep.”
“Really? Too bad we don’t have time to boil up some water and make coffee. I’m sure you could use the caffeine.”
Sean shook his head. “I don’t drink coffee.” There was a degree of venom in the statement.
Either he truly hated the beverage or there was a deeper meaning to his words. Hayley gave a mental shrug. Now was not the time to pursue a trivial subject.
Ten minutes later, they were rigging the rope to let Mack down from the cliff. The malamute let out a high whine as they tied him into his makeshift transportation to the ground.
Hayley grasped his head between her hands and looked into his eyes. “It’s all right, boy. We won’t drop you. Be brave.”
As if the dog understood her, he reached out his tongue and slurped her cheek. The attention tickled and a muted laugh left her mouth.
Lowering the dog down from the cave went more smoothly than lifting him up. A few minutes later, Hayley and Sean stood beside the animal on the forest floor. Their breaths left puffy clouds in the crisp, predawn air enriched by the distinctive pine odor of the boreal forest.
Now it was decision time. They’d argued to a draw last night about what was going to happen today. The ATF agent nearly matched her in stubbornness. But nearly didn’t get the job done, as he was about to discover.
“I can’t run away to save my skin.” Hayley planted one fist on her hip. “I have to do something to warn whoever is coming to check on me today. That means I need to lurk close to my homestead and perhaps let out a warning shot as they come in. But you need to stop the weapon sale, which means a hike over to the abandoned way station where the buyer will land. Go! Don’t worry about me. I have my rifle and Mack.”
The tall, dark-haired man shook his head. “Not happening. I won’t abandon you. Maybe we can figure out a way to accomplish both our goals without splitting up.” Sean’s white teeth showed in a grin. “I didn’t sit up all night twiddling my thumbs.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s move away from this location as quickly and quietly as possible, and I’ll fill you in. You lead since you know the area, but bring us back to your homestead in a roundabout way. I didn’t hear an airplane take off last night, so I have to assume Patterson’s crew is still at your cabin.”
“Makes sense,” Hayley said, “if they intend to locate and eliminate us before they fly over to the way station to meet the buyers.” She scowled and then her lips curved in a grim smile. “Toward the cabin is the last direction the crooks will expect us to travel.”
“Great minds.” The ATF agent winked.
A strange buoyancy filled Hayley’s chest. The guy might not technically be a crook, but she had no trouble imagining him as a heart-stealer. He was lethally attractive. Good thing she’d already learned her lesson the hard way when it came to handsome and dedicated law enforcement types. Too bad tragedy had come with the lesson. Her gut clenched.
Hayley brushed away the wrenching memories of her years-ago shattered engagement brought about by the needless death of her only sister. The eight-year-old grief could not be allowed to distract her right now.
“This way.” She motioned toward Sean and led off the path they’d followed last night and into unmarked territory between the trees.
For long minutes, they made their way slowly and silently. At least, she and her dog made acceptably silent progress. Sean’s was more moose on the loose. Branches snapped. Footfalls thumped. Not a good way to avoid detection by the men who hunted them or to approach the homestead by stealth.
Frowning, Hayley turned toward her companion. Dawn’s advent had lightened the atmosphere enough for her to make out a blush on the ATF agent’s face.
He spread his hands. “I’m a city boy, too. Put me in a dark back alley, and you won’t hear or see me coming.”
“No camping or hunting in your background? That’s almost un-Alaskan.”
Hayley had intended the comment as light teasing, but Sean’s face lost expression and his gaze hardened.
“Fishing is more my speed. My dad is a commercial fisherman in Portland, where I spent most of my childhood. I was born right here in the Alaskan bush but got yanked away from the wilderness when I was seven years old.”
Curious choice of words to describe the situation of his early life. Yanked away? Hayley opened her mouth to ask the obvious question: What happened when you were seven? But then she snapped her jaw shut. Judging by the drawn look on his face, the subject seemed sensitive for the ATF agent and was none of her business. The two of them were essentially strangers. Comrades by necessity, but far from familiar friends.
“Okay, city boy,” she said. “Here are a few Wilderness 101 lessons.”
She showed him how to place his feet in a way that cooperated with the terrain and took advantage of the sound-deadening mulch of leaves and needles coating the ground.
“And press the branches aside with your hands,” she told him. “Don’t smash through them like a football lineman.”
“Gotcha,” Sean returned with that little amused grin of his.
Hayley’s heart fluttered, and she turned on her heel. The first few steps onward, she violated every stealth lesson she’d given her student.
Get it together, girl.
She was the better part of a decade past that starry-eyed college girl who gave her heart away to a bad boy grin backed by empty promises. Her sister had paid the ultimate price for Hayley’s faith in a guy with misplaced priorities. Now she was in a position that required her to trust another good-looking cop. Surely, lightning wouldn’t strike twice, would it? This time it was her own life on the line.
Around ten minutes of stealthy progress later, Mack suddenly halted, turned his head and began to growl. Hayley hit her knees beside him and murmured a soft command to hush. The dog obeyed, but the latent growl vibrated against her hands on his thick neck and chest. Beside them, the ATF agent went still, his gaze fixed in the direction the dog indicated.
The sounds of snapping twigs and harsh male voices carried to Hayley’s ears. At least a pair of men tromped through the forest less than twenty yards from their location. Mack’s pointed ears stood at attention, and the rumbling in his throat gained volume. Hayley repeated the whisper for silence, and the noise subsided. A thump came, followed by a snarled curse. Someone must have tripped and fallen. The grumbling voices and sounds of clumsy progress through the woods continued for a short time, then gradually faded.
“I told you—city boys,” Sean whispered.
“Following my blood trail like you said,” Hayley answered, finally allowing herself a full breath. “This is our opportunity to make serious progress back to the cabin.”
She led out, and the agent followed in her increasingly swift footsteps. What would she find when she caught sight of her place? Those creeps had better not have done more damage to the homestead that had been in her family for generations. They’d better not have hurt the carving she’d put her heart and soul into. With lives at stake, how foolish was she to care about an object? But she couldn’t rein in the thought.
The trees began to thin, and a hand caught her elbow. Hayley slowed, and Sean came up close behind her.
“Don’t forget Patterson will have some of his goons with him,” the agent murmured.
“Right,” she mouthed over her shoulder and modified her pace to a slow glide.
They reached the tree line behind and to one side of the cabin. At a motion from her, Sean took cover behind the bulk of a spruce tree, and she did the same opposite him. She commanded Mack to sit quietly beside her.
From this position, Hayley had a view of the side of her cabin and an oblique view of the front. The trespassers had found slabs of wood that they’d used to board up the broken picture window. Directly in front of them stood the rear of her workshop. In the growing dawn light, the back window revealed her eagle carving standing tall and strong. Hayley drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. One small thing going right—but only if she had a chance to finish the work.
Movement by the cabin drew her attention. A man in work boots, chinos and a dark jacket stepped out the front door onto the porch, head swiveling in vigilance, assault rifle cradled in his arms.
“Crawford,” Sean whispered.
Next, a man in a suit stepped outside, stretching his arms as if he’d recently awakened from sleep.
“Patterson.” Sean’s tone was a low growl.
At this distance, it was unlikely anyone in a building or the yard would be able to hear their soft communication over the swish of the breeze in the trees. A third man followed the suit, cuddling his gun in one arm.
Sean let out a snort. “Becker.”
“Is he one of the men who shot at me yesterday?”
“The instigator no less.”
Hayley’s hands fisted. “He and the other lowlifes slept in a cozy cabin while we bunked in a cave. You said you had a plan. What’s next, Special Agent in Charge?”
He sent her a grin with a teasing glint in his eye. “A peon fed is only a special agent.”
“Not if you’re in charge.”
He answered with a nearly soundless chuckle, then quickly sobered. “A frontal shock-and-awe attack is out of the question. As soon as the shooting starts, the ones hunting us in the woods will come tearing back here and we’ll be up against substantial firepower. So, for now, we hide and watch. But as soon as a state trooper arrives to check on you, I’ll lay down covering fire so you can get to them. Jump into that plane, get out of here and call for help. I’ll stay behind and stop the sale by any means necessary.”
“But what about—”
A distinctive steady buzzing noise from overhead interrupted Hayley’s protest. Heart rate kicking into overdrive, her gaze searched the sky. No plane in view yet, but one was on the way.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered urgently to Sean. “Is it the buyer?”
The agent shook his head. “Too soon.”
“Then it must be whoever my brother sent.”
Hayley’s airway tightened. Was she really going to abandon Sean here while she was whisked away? What choice did she have? Would she even make it to the rescue plane in the first place? There was a lot of open space to cover between here and the lake. That depended on God...and Sean’s aim. And once the call for more help went out, would reinforcements arrive for Sean before he was cut down in service of his country?
So many questions and uncertainties. Hayley met his dark gaze. Steady. Determined. Solid. He’d shown himself to be a man of action and courage. She shouldn’t start doubting now. But she didn’t have to like it. She jerked a nod in his direction and returned her attention to the sky.
A Cessna floatplane came into view, clearly intending to land on her lake. Hayley’s heart jumped at the Alaska State Troopers’ symbol painted on the side of the aircraft. A single person occupied the cockpit. Then the plane disappeared from view on the far side of her workshop, but a splash indicated a touchdown.
Hayley’s pulse quickened. Surely the officer was sharp enough to note that the large plane parked at the dock opposite her small Cub lacked a tail sign. Someone in uniform would know what that indicated. Maybe the person wouldn’t be entirely unprepared, but she needed to be ready to back them up. And she needed to be ready to run for it when Sean gave the signal. Hayley hefted her rifle and flipped the safety off.
She took a step forward, but Sean clamped a firm grip around her arm.
“Wait!” he said, tone sharp. He gestured toward the three men on the porch of her cabin.
The new plane’s advent hadn’t caused so much as a ruffle in the suited man’s fancy hair. The one Sean called Patterson and his two goons stood nonchalantly watching the landing as if law enforcement arriving in the middle of their illegal operation was no big deal. A minute later, a husky man dressed in an Alaska state trooper’s uniform trotted toward the trio on the porch.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Patterson,” the trooper called out. “I had no idea Craig’s sister was still out here. What did you do with her?”
Hayley’s mouth went bone dry, and the breath caught in her lungs. “I know that trooper.” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “That’s Glenn Cauley, my brother’s friend. Craig is going to be heartbroken.”
The full import of the situation burst in upon her, and blackness edged her vision. No one was coming to help them. No one even knew there might be trouble at her homestead, because the one her brother had trustingly called was a traitor to his badge.
Sean’s jaw clenched. Nothing boiled his blood as much as a crooked cop.
Worse, there was no getting Hayley out of here, and the number of guys and guns against Hayley and him had increased. When the pair hunting them in the woods came up empty, they’d return here. And then when the buyer arrived within the next hour with who knew how many more goons, stopping the sale would truly be hopeless. They had to do something now, and the risks were enormous.
Correction. He had to do something now.
A bandaged hand fell on his arm. “We need a new plan.”
Sean looked down into Hayley’s expectant face. “I’m open to suggestions.” His tone came out more of a snarl than he liked, but she didn’t even blink at his harsh tone.
“As you said, a direct attack on the cabin is out of the question. We’d both end up dead in a hurry. But what if we blow up Patterson’s plane with the drone in it? That would end the dirty deal right there.”
A tiny bit of tension ebbed from Sean’s gut. “I like the way you think. You don’t happen to have any dynamite laying around, do you?”
“Nope.” A taut smile bloomed on her lips. “But if—say—a rag soaked in wood stain and set alight were stuffed into the plane’s gas tank, the result might be the perfect kaboom.” Her smile faded. “Only I’m not sure how to make that happen without the saboteur getting shot or blown to bits as well.”
Sean pursed his lips and let out a soft hum. “If the torch is rigged and inserted right, the explosion won’t happen instantaneously. It will take some time for combustible fumes to build up. Someone will have to cover the other when they sprint for the plane. How are you with that rifle?” He nodded toward the Winchester in her grip.
“Good enough to keep them ducking for cover.”
“All right, then.” Sean blew a long breath out his nostrils.
With the temperature still hovering around freezing, the exhale formed contrails of cloud in front of his face. He still didn’t want Hayley involved in this dangerous business, but he didn’t see a way around including her.
“First,” he said, “we have to get through the rear door of your workshop without being seen.”
“And here’s our opportunity.” She gestured toward the cabin.
Sean’s heart rate pegged up a notch. Patterson, his bodyguards and the trooper were going into the cabin together, but they might not stay inside long. Soon, one or more of them would likely step outside to stand guard.
“Let’s move.” He led out across the lightly frosted grass at a slow lope, weapon at the ready, and pointed toward the cabin. If any of the crooked gang inside caught a glimpse of them, Hayley and he would be finished. At least the boards over the main window minimized one possible viewpoint, though they could certainly be seen from other windows.
Sean sped up, and footsteps on his heels assured him Hayley followed with the dog panting in her wake. The workshop sat at right angles to the cabin, and at last, they reached a spot where the building shielded them from view. No outcry of discovery had greeted their movement.
A few strides later, they reached the back door and Sean turned to allow Hayley to let them into the workshop. Hand on the knob, she spared him a glance. The bright color on her cheeks stood in sharp relief to the pallor washing the rest of her face. Her chest heaved with breaths more labored than the short sprint warranted. Fear always magnified exertion. Yet her gaze held only steady determination that defied the fear.
With a brief nod, she pulled open the back door of her workshop and they darted inside. The interior was significantly warmer than outside, but the air was laden with scents of wood shavings and pungent finish. Several sizes and styles of chain saws lay across a long workbench. Behind the bench, a wall of neatly hung tools stretched across one side of the building. Cement covered the floor and wooden rafters buttressed the high ceiling.
But the object that occupied the center of the cavernous room left Sean’s eyes wide and his mouth agape. Impressive didn’t begin to describe the eagle carving. His gaze caressed every inch of the magnificent work of art. Hayley not only enjoyed her craft, but she excelled at it.
Tearing his attention from the piece, he settled his gaze on the artist. “Wow!”
The anxiety on her face morphed into a flush and a slight smile. “Do you like it?”
“The word ‘like’ is too tame.” He shook his head. “I’m in awe.”
A scowl formed on her brow. Had he said something wrong?
“Then you can understand how annoyed I am to have my work disrupted by a crew of crooks.” She tossed her head, brown ponytail swishing. “That was sarcasm through understatement, by the way.”
Sean rumbled a soft chuckle. “Then it’s only fair we annoy them back.”
If the situation weren’t so dire, he’d almost characterize their interaction as fun.
“Let’s get busy,” he said, sobering.
Only minimal communication proved necessary as they duct-taped a pair of paint stir sticks together to provide sufficient length for their makeshift torch. The unlit end would be inserted into the gas tank, allowing a buildup of escaping fumes that would eventually ignite the fuel and hopefully lead to a flaming kaboom. Next, they soaked a rag in stain, wrapped it around an end of the stick and secured it with more duct tape. Hayley produced a lighter from her seemingly bottomless backpack.
Sean took the lighter and the makeshift torch in one hand and hefted his weapon with the other. “I think we should switch guns,” he said. “The Winchester Featherweight is an outstanding rifle, but with only five rounds in the magazine, you won’t do well against an automatic.”
“Agreed.” Hayley nodded.
“Do you know how to handle an auto?”
“How hard can it be? Point, sight, press trigger.”
Sean offered her a half smile. “Point and press trigger might be more accurate. The bullets spit out too fast for sighting to do any good. Just sweep the muzzle across the area you want to target. Anything in the way will take a hit. I’m going to set this on semiauto, which will give you three-bullet bursts, so you will have to press the trigger more than once. If I leave this on full auto, you’ll run out of ammo too quickly to hold the gang at bay for any length of time.”
“Got it.” Hayley’s throat pulsed, indicating a deep swallow.
Sean’s heart panged. He was asking a lot of this innocent bystander. No doubt she’d never aimed a gun at a human target before.
He laid his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. She didn’t look away. “Whether you hit anyone or not,” he said, “the purpose is to pin them down until I reach Patterson’s aircraft. At that point, your Cub and the trooper’s plane will offer some cover for me. I’ll stab the stick end of the torch into the tank, then light the rag end. It’ll take a short time for the fire to ignite the fumes and reach the fuel. Lay down cover fire until I get back to the workshop.”
She nodded, still holding his gaze without a flinch in her resolve. He released her and handed over his assault weapon, along with an extra magazine. Then he slung her rifle over his shoulder. Grim-faced, she turned toward the nearest window facing the cabin and turned the crank to open it a crack. Now she could shoot without shattering the glass.
“Before I light the torch,” he said with a hand on her tense shoulder, “I’m going to untie your Cub and push it away from the dock. Even so, there’s no guarantee that every aircraft in the vicinity won’t go up in flames, but at least that one might survive and offer us a radio to call for help or even a way out of here if we manage to subdue Patterson’s crew.”
Her thin smile advised him she wasn’t fooling herself with the possibility that the two of them would take down the thugs arrayed against them, but the immediate objective was stopping the sale of a cutting-edge weapon to evil people. They would roll with the circumstances that followed achieving the objective. He’d settle for escaping once again into the forest. With Hayley’s wilderness savvy and supplies, they could survive for quite a while.
She gestured toward a door on the far side of the workshop. “I’m going to put Mack in the storage closet, so he’ll be well away from flying bullets. Then I’ll take up a position behind the thick support beam flanking the side window that faces the cabin.”
“Good plan.” Sean nodded. “As soon as you’re in position, I’ll race for the dock. Don’t open fire until you see a response from the cabin.”
“Understood. Let’s do this,” she said, lifting her chin.
Sean leaned in close to her—close enough to appreciate the depth and purity of her velvet-brown eyes. “If things don’t go well for me, you take Mack and get out of here. Run as fast and as far as you can.”
Hayley’s somber gaze scanned his face as if she were memorizing it. “I don’t plan to fail, Mr. Special Agent.”
The intensity of her words shot a tingle up Sean’s spine. He stood straight, a grin splitting his face.
“Not failing. Sounds like a terrific plan to me.”
He turned on his heel and strode toward the front door of the workshop. A scrabble of doggy claws and the soft creak of a door told of the malamute finding shelter in the closet. Sean stopped at the door with his hand on the knob and looked over his shoulder. From her window battle station, Hayley offered him a solemn nod.
Go time.
Sean sucked in a deep breath, opened the door and burst into a run. He was completely exposed. Any stride could be his last. His life depended on God’s grace...and the courage of a woman he’d only just met.