Even with the protection of her headphones, the helicopter’s roar thrummed in Lara’s ears. Through the side window, she peered down toward the ground as the chopper rose higher and higher. Her town of around ten thousand people was a map tableau beneath her. Was that her cul-de-sac—her house—growing tinier by the second?
How had her life changed so dramatically in less than a day? Suddenly, she was no longer the captain of her own destiny. She, and this little one in her care, were under the control of federal deputies.
Sipping from the water bottle she’d been handed as she boarded the chopper, Lara glanced at Ethan, seated across from her. The man’s strong features inspired confidence even as they stirred unease. How much of her independence had she already forfeited to this commanding man she’d met only this morning? Her gaze dropped toward the gun strapped to his side along with other law enforcement paraphernalia on his belt. The sight ought to inspire comfort and confidence since he was her defense against people who were out to kill her, and to a degree it did. But part of her wanted to erect defensive walls against this man’s Matt-like charisma and charm.
If Ethan thought she would obey his every order without question, he was wrong. She’d gotten the impression that her continual questions exasperated him, but he’d have to get used them. She was going to make lots of inquiries. And she’d think for herself, especially now that a little person depended on her.
Lara smiled toward the baby strapped into the helicopter seat beside her. The child was oblivious to the cute ridiculousness of the big set of ear protectors wrapped around her little head. Maisy seemed fascinated by her new environment. Thankfully, she didn’t appear afraid, just curious.
“It’s a great big world to figure out,” Lara murmured to the child, though of course, Maisy couldn’t hear her, much less understand her. Maybe she was talking as much to herself as to the baby.
With one hand, she deposited her empty water bottle in a holder attached to her seat. With the other, she reached into the go bag at her feet and pulled out her compact digital single-lens reflex camera. The small DSLR was handy for taking photos on the go. She snapped a few shots of Maisy. Then she turned and grabbed several photos of the city fading behind them and the rugged terrain below.
The city of Jackson sat in an elongated bowl of a valley known famously as Jackson Hole, nestled in the Teton Mountain Range. Of course, having a window between her and her photographic subject wasn’t optimal, but the aerial shots were too rare to miss. Maybe when this was over, she could rent a chopper that would allow her to take photos with the windows open. A whole new vista of vlog subjects ran through her mind.
Her photography vlog had taken off with unexpectedly sturdy wings while she was in college, and now she worked from home in the house she’d inherited half a dozen years ago from her grandparents. Well, she didn’t always work in her home. Her photo vlogs were set mostly in the magnificent outdoors, highlighting the flora and fauna of the mountains and lakes around Jackson. She did take the odd road trip to other sites of scenic interest.
She didn’t answer to a boss, unless one counted the occasionally obtrusive expectations of advertisers on her site. If she made it through this crisis, she’d be thankful even for that annoyance, because it would mean she’d been able to return to a life she loved.
A big hand closed around her wrist. “What are you doing?” Ethan’s voice echoed tinnily through her headset.
Lara rounded on him. “I’m sure you’ve seen cameras before, Deputy. This is what I do for a living.”
He frowned at her. “We can’t give our enemies any idea which way we’re headed.”
“Relax.” She attempted to take her own advice and offered him a smile as nonchalant as she could muster. “I’m hardly going to upload these shots to the internet...at least not until this mess is well over.”
He released her arm. “All right. If the activity keeps you calm and occupied.”
She sniffed. “Patronizing much?”
“No offense intended.” He lifted a hand, palm out.
“None taken.” Yeah, right! If steam could come out her ears, her headset would be smoking.
As they flew north across the National Elk Refuge and Grand Teton National Park, Lara recognized landmarks and snapped photos right along. Then the chopper veered eastward. They weren’t headed into Yellowstone National Park, then. The green pine and gray rock vistas before them began ever so gradually to smooth out into foothills rather than jagged mountain peaks.
From a seat kitty-corner to Lara, Ethan’s partner rummaged in a large paper sack and pulled out wrapped sandwiches and small bottles of water. He asked her which kind of sandwich she preferred, and Lara accepted her lunch with a grateful thank-you. She’d barely swallowed the last bite of her pastrami on rye when Maisy began to fuss.
Lara studied the child. She shouldn’t be hungry yet, and she’d been changed before they took off, so...bored maybe? Lara began to entertain the baby with her camera, helping the little girl feel all the different buttons and gadgets but not allowing her to suck on them. Maisy quieted and even began to coo and blow little bubbles with her dainty lips. Perhaps a future photographer? Adorable was an inadequate term.
A warm chuckle sounded in Lara’s headset, and she glanced toward Ethan. He was watching the baby and her play together, an unaccustomed softness in his eyes and around his mouth. Maybe this deputy marshal wasn’t such a Mr. Macho-in-Charge after all. Or maybe he was all that and more, too. Lara’s heart did an unwelcome little jig. If he turned out to have a tender side and a sense of humor, she was in real trouble. Best she continue to think of him as a stranger behind a badge.
He was also the guy who’d saved her life with his gun—twice now. She had to give him that.
They passed over several small towns scattered far apart, and dense forestation yielded to pasture and farmland. At last, the helicopter began to descend toward a small airstrip that appeared to be located in the middle of nowhere, but that Lara guessed might be near the town of Cody. They set down with a minor bump, and a pair of armed men flanked the door. One of them opened it and nodded toward Ethan.
“Let’s get out,” he said. “Our hideaway has been prepared.”
He descended from the helicopter, the still-whirling rotor blades barely rustling his short-cropped hair. Lara unbuckled Maisy’s car seat and passed the child in her carrier to Ethan’s waiting arms. Terry offered Lara his hand as she moved toward the door, but she declined with a smile and hopped out without assistance. Her shoulder-length hair went wild beneath the rotor blades. Good thing a quality brush was an item she kept in her go bag.
Ethan motioned her to follow him as he headed toward a black van that sat on the tarmac with its engine running. They were quickly and efficiently on the road, with Terry riding shotgun and Ethan and Lara behind, the baby situated between them. A sizable escort car went ahead of them and one behind.
“I’m feeling positively presidential,” Lara said with a little laugh.
Ethan smiled. “Don’t get used to it. Once we arrive at our destination, you’ll only see Terry and me. Everyone else will melt into the environment, but there will be sentries watching.”
“Good to know.” Lara nodded.
Within an hour, they had reentered a forested area, and shortly thereafter, the escort vehicles pulled over onto the side of the road and allowed Lara’s vehicle to proceed without them. Almost immediately, the van turned onto what looked like a little-used track that wound here and there, apparently at random. They jounced a bit over uneven terrain, and the trees—mostly pine—crowded in close to both sides of the large vehicle. Suddenly, they popped out into a large clearing. Ahead of them was a medium-sized A-frame house with a large porch. A small detached garage sat next to the house, and a county sheriff’s car was parked in front of the garage door.
“Temporary home sweet home.” Ethan motioned toward the dwelling as the driver brought the vehicle to a halt.
“This is a place the marshals service maintains for witness protection?” Lara asked.
“Something of a way station for people entering WITSEC. But WITSEC is permanent relocation and identity reassignment, not your status at this time, and I hope it never comes to that. Our intention is to return you to your regular life as soon as you and Maisy are safe from the Draytons.”
“Which means you need to successfully apprehend them. What can I do to help make that happen?”
Ethan’s gaze intensified, and Lara’s skin prickled beneath the assessing stare.
“Pray,” he said, “and stay alive and take care of Maisy.”
“Things that are already on my list of priorities,” she told him.
In the front passenger seat, Terry turned his head toward them. He was frowning. “Wonder where the advance team of local law enforcement is. They’re supposed to step out of the house and let us know everything is secure.”
“I’m wondering the same thing,” Ethan said. “I’m going to check it out.” One hand went toward the door handle and the other to his gun.
“No, me.” Terry waved. “Your door opens toward the house with no cover for you if hostiles are waiting inside. You stay with Lara and Maisy.”
Lara’s pulse throbbed in her neck. They’d left an unsafe situation at the police station in the town where she lived, and now they were in the boonies where no one was supposed to know their location, and something was wrong already?
In smooth movements, Terry drew his gun and left the vehicle. Lara glanced from one member of her protection detail to another. Not comforting that both the driver—a serious-faced young woman—and Ethan had also drawn their guns.
“Hello in the house!” Terry called, keeping the van between himself and the building.
There was no response. Terry turned and exchanged glances through the window with Ethan.
“Call it in.” Ethan tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Tell them to get those escort vehicles back here for us. We’re leaving.”
Maisy started to fuss, and Lara patted the child’s little arm. Perhaps the baby sensed the tension in the air. More likely, she needed to be changed. Which wasn’t going to happen soon if they had to flee this site.
“Get in!” Ethan called to his partner.
Terry turned toward the van just as a roar split the air, and the house disintegrated into a blossom of vivid red, orange and yellow. The explosion rocked the vehicle, throwing Lara’s body against her door panel and banging her head against the window. Pain ratcheted down her side.
A shot rang out from the forest, and Terry dropped from sight. Ethan sprang from the vehicle in a low crouch, weapon extended.
“Go! Get out of here!” he hollered to the driver.
The vehicle lunged forward in a hiss of spinning tires, and Lara threw herself across a howling Maisy. More gunshots rang out, though none pinged against the van’s sides. Ethan must be the target—and Terry, if he was still alive. The driver put the vehicle into a sliding one-eighty and then barreled up the narrow track. Lara’s breathing stuttered as she sat up and stared through the rear window.
Terry lay in the clearing on the ground, unmoving, but Ethan stood tall, gun blazing—selflessly providing an opportunity for the driver to get Maisy and her away. Any second now, he would go down beside his partner. Her heart tore.
Something with the strength of a mule kicked Ethan in the chest and slammed him to the ground, driving every molecule of oxygen from his lungs. Pain splintered through his torso. His throat rasped as he struggled for air. Suddenly, his lungs filled, and he lay drinking in smoke-tinged air as if it were the elixir of life—which it was. The darkness edging his vision receded, and he forced himself to rise up on one elbow.
Nothing except the wind stirred in the trees. No one emerged from the forest seeking to finish the deputies off. Had the gunman vacated the area after flushing Lara and the baby away from the supposedly secure house?
His gaze flew to his partner, who barely stirred on the ground. Blood coated the man’s upper right arm. Ethan crawled toward Terry.
“Hey, buddy,” Ethan said. His partner’s eyes squinted open. “You hit anywhere other than the arm?”
Terry groaned. “Took one near the heart, but the vest under my shirt must have stopped it or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He groaned again. “Probably have a broken rib or two, but I’m not going to die anytime soon. You okay?”
“Similar to you, but without the arm wound.”
Ethan sat up and used a zip tie from his belt pouch to form a tourniquet on the profusely bleeding arm.
“I need to call this in.” He whipped out his phone. “I hope those escort cars pick up the van before Drayton’s people do.”
A gunshot blasted from the direction the van had disappeared. Ethan sprang to his feet, pistol at the ready.
“I’ll call. You go!” Terry cried even as Ethan raced toward the sounds of distress.
Ignoring the complaints from bruised or broken ribs, Ethan pelted up the narrow rutted track. If anything happened to Lara or Maisy, he’d never forgive himself. The US Marshals Service had been entrusted with their care. It was up to him to ensure such trust was not misplaced. Surely, duty was the only reason his heart was clogging his throat.
From a short way ahead, just around a bend shielded by a thick stand of trees, a woman screamed. Ethan heard the baby crying and a masculine voice snarl a curse.
“Just shoot her and let’s get out of here,” said another male.
Ethan put on another burst of speed and rounded the tree line. A short burly man had Lara shoved up against the side of the van with one stiff arm. The other arm was lifting a gun toward her head. Ethan fired instantly, and the gunman dropped like a stone and lay moaning and rocking on the grass, clutching his knee. Lara shrieked the baby’s name and pointed toward a second man, who dangled Maisy’s car carrier from one hand and held a gun in the other.
“Drop the weapon!” Ethan ordered as he took up a solid shooter’s stance. The man who held the fussing baby glanced toward him, then Lara, then back to Ethan again, mouth slightly agape.
“I’m not inclined toward mercy at the moment.” Ethan’s tone emerged as a lethal growl.
The man’s weapon thumped to the ground. With a cry, Lara charged forward, wrested the baby carrier from the gunman’s grip and retreated to the far side of the van.
“Are you all right?” Ethan called to Lara.
“I’m fine. Just shaken up.”
He sent up a mental prayer of thanks. As he secured the would-be baby snatcher, Lara’s gentle murmurs to the child carried to his ears. Maisy’s crying receded and then stopped.
Ethan assessed the scene. The man he’d shot—the one who’d been about to shoot Lara—was still groaning on the ground. Ethan quickly secured him, also. The guy would need to get to a hospital, but he wasn’t bleeding out. A spike strip lay across the track directly behind the van, indicating why the vehicle had stopped with four flat tires. The windshield sported a starred bullet hole, and the driver lay slumped against the steering wheel.
Ethan sucked in a breath. He shoved his uninjured prisoner into the back seat of the van, then opened the front door and felt for a pulse in the driver’s neck. It was there, faint but steady. Thank You, Lord. Heat bubbled in his gut. A vest didn’t protect anyone from a headshot, but the bullet must have only grazed the driver, knocking her out. They were going to need emergency services pronto, though. Terry should have already called for those.
Ethan leaned in toward the man in the back seat. “Any more of you near here?”
“Just you wait.” The guy sneered at him. “An army is on the way.”
“How did you know about this safe house?”
His captive shrugged. “Got a phone call telling us where to go, what to do. Apparently, me and Bill were the closest assets to the location.”
Ethan snorted. “You talk like you’re employed by some sort of legitimate intelligence outfit rather than a thug working for cockroach weapons dealers. What did you do with the county sheriff’s deputies who were supposed to be waiting for us inside the house?”
“We’re here,” said a woman’s voice behind him.
Ethan turned to find a pair of uniforms walking toward him—a male and a female. A pale-faced Terry trailed in their wake. Lara came around the van and stood beside Ethan. Her strained features and the white-knuckled grip she maintained on the car carrier told him fear still wrapped her in its fist. Sensible person. The danger was far from over. He resisted the impulse to put an arm around her shoulders and pull her close.
“How did you survive?” Lara gazed up at him with wide eyes.
He offered her a smile, hoping the gesture held more assurance than he felt about their situation. “I’m wearing a concealable bulletproof vest. It’s protocol to wear one when on protection detail.”
Her lips trembled into a faint smile. “Good protocol.”
“We were ambushed,” said the male deputy as the trio reached Ethan and Lara. “Knocked out cold, tied up and locked in a storage shed out back. Your partner found and freed us.” The man jerked a nod toward Terry, who stood swaying on his feet.
“I need to get Lara and the baby out of here,” Ethan said to his partner. “The suspect in custody says more of his people are on the way.”
“For sure.” Terry nodded. “But I just got off the phone with headquarters. Our prior escorts have reported in. Their vehicles met with a similar fate as the van. They’re out of commission.”
“Then I need to take Lara and Maisy in whatever vehicle these goons arrived in. It’s got to be around here someplace. I’ll disable the GPS to ensure we can’t be tracked.”
“I think it’s right there.” Lara pointed toward a shadowy opening in the trees a dozen or so feet up the track, where a large object was covered by camouflaging branches.
From this location, it was just possible to make out the slightly unnatural lines of the object beneath the branches. From the direction of the road the small clearing was all but invisible.
“Sharp eye.” Ethan gave her a nod and turned toward his partner and the two sheriff’s deputies. “Between possible concussions and a gunshot wound, all of you need medical attention. Help should be coming soon, but Lara, Maisy and I can’t wait around to see who arrives first—the good guys or the bad guys.”
“We’ve got this,” said the female sheriff’s deputy. “Leave the suspects in our custody.”
“And we’ll give any crooks who arrive before the cavalry a warm welcome.” The male marshal patted his sidearm.
“What they said.” Terry’s grin wobbled, and he staggered slightly where he stood.
Ethan stepped forward and helped his partner to a seat on the ground, leaning him against the side of the crippled van. The intensity in Terry’s dark eyes snagged Ethan’s attention.
“There’s something you ought to know, buddy,” his partner said. “I talked to Marshal Teague himself. The service is compromised.”
Ethan’s heart lurched. “A mole?”
Terry shook his head. “One of our top computer techs, Alex Bingham, has been kidnapped. They think the Draytons have him and they’re squeezing him for every bit of knowledge that will help them snatch the baby.”
“That’s how they knew about this safe house. Bingham would have been able to access those location records.”
“You got it. Marshal Teague says we’ve revoked our guy’s server access, but we’re still scrambling to discover how much damage has already been done. We don’t know what the Draytons might know about our safe sites and protocols.”
Ethan’s jaw muscles went rigid. “I have to take our charges completely off-grid, then. Away from any known marshals service connections.”
The man nodded, face waxing a deeper gray. “You’re on your own, but if anyone can navigate a safe way out in the cold, you’re the guy. We’ll work on catching the Draytons.” Terry’s left hand closed around Ethan’s right. “You keep Lara and Maisy safe.”
Ethan squeezed his friend’s hand and then released it. He rose and faced Lara. She gazed back at him. If he’d ever seen grave determination on a human face, he was seeing it now.
“I heard.” She lifted her chin. “Maisy can count on us—you and me.”
Ethan nodded, his respect for Lara climbing another notch. “Let’s go.”
The sheriff’s deputies cleared the camouflage from the gunmen’s midsize sedan while Ethan and Lara collected their bags and Maisy’s belongings from the van. The keys had been left in the sedan’s ignition—a typical precaution for someone who might need to make a quick getaway.
Since their enemies had a skilled computer technician in their possession, Ethan took a few moments to disable the GPS on the car so the system couldn’t be accessed and their location couldn’t be revealed. He also removed the battery from his cell phone. Since the agency’s database had been hacked, their enemies could have his private government number and use his phone to find them. They might not have his number, but it wasn’t a risk he was prepared to take.
Soon, he had the vehicle out on the highway, moving westward at a pace just under the speed limit. He and his charges were now cut off from any help from the marshals service. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t accept aid from another branch of law enforcement. Ethan knew just the place they could go to ground—provided they could get there before their pursuers caught up with them.