The telltale long snap of a gun cocking sent chills up Lee’s spine. “Audrey?”
“Oh, it’s you!” Her shadow jumped to standing and ran toward him, one arm hanging at her side and holding—
“Where’d you get that gun?”
Her left arm reached for him, draping around his shoulder as she gave him a half hug. “He dropped it. That’s why I had to use the bear spray. I was so scared he was going to kill you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Lee reached down with both hands and took the gun from her, making sure to engage the safety. She pulled away from him. He slipped the gun in his back waistline before reaching out with both arms and pulling her to his chest to properly hug her. Her teeth vibrated at the same rhythm she trembled. “You’re cold?”
“How can you not be?”
He rested his head on the top of her head and twisted slightly so his back would take the brunt of the welcome breeze. “I just wrestled and sprinted after the suspect.”
“You didn’t get him?”
He exhaled. “No. I got in a few punches, but he ran faster—because he knew where he was going whereas I couldn’t see a thing—and he had a sedan parked around the corner. A dirt road that I assume eventually leads to the highway.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“He had a hat on and a full head of hair and same build as the driver who picked up the guide.”
“Do you think he’s coming back?”
“Not likely if we have his gun, but we should be prepared.” Her chills dissipated, and she sighed into his chest, her breath tickling his neck. He wanted to tell her hours ago that she’d stirred his heart and mind so much he could hardly think straight. She may be willing to deal with the extra hoops and sacrifices it’d take to maintain a relationship with Kendra and Felicity, but a dating relationship would be so much harder, at least a serious one. And he wasn’t interested in casual dating.
Sure, he didn’t have the best reasons for joining the FBI. Revenge served as an exhausting, relentless force of growing bitterness that entered into every waking hour when at its best. No wonder Joseph was getting reckless and desperate in his attempts to kill them.
But unlike Joseph, Lee had chosen to focus on the positives of each day. His grandmother made sure to instill that in him at a very young age, and whether he liked it or not, the habit seemed to have stuck. It took months but by the time he’d graduated Quantico, he’d wanted justice more than revenge. Each day after that, with his focus on justice and the job, the bitterness got a little bit smaller.
He supposed it was the same way with forgiveness. On a logical level, he knew one day he’d forgive the men that killed Diego. He didn’t feel like it, not now, even. But somewhere in the back of his mind he’d made the choice to forgive. He still hoped God would allow him the opportunity to make sure the Network got taken down so it wouldn’t be so easy to kill more people like Diego. And now he had more reason. The woman in his arms. He wanted to do anything to keep her safe.
He’d always known, deep down, if faced with the choice of love versus career, he’d choose love. But his job had taught him that people were never entirely what they seemed. Which left him in a quandary. The real question boiled down to how could he ever trust his feelings enough to commit to love?
He patted her back and stepped away. “We should take advantage of the last few hours before dawn.”
She shuffled beside him. “I think it will be easier knowing you have a gun.”
His eyelids drooped at the thought. She had no idea how much better he’d sleep knowing he could defend her if danger came around again. “Tomorrow, too.”
They reached their sleeping spot. “I got sleep. It’s your turn. I’ll keep watch and wake you at the first sign of trouble.”
Lee wanted to argue but he was so exhausted he knew the wise thing would be to rest a couple hours. His heart hurt at the thought of walking away from her after tomorrow. He rested his head on his own pillow and closed his eyes. Focus on the mission.
“Lee.” Her soft voice was like a jolt of lightning to his spine. He sat upright and reached for his gun.
“No.” She rested a hand on his wrist. “I just heard a car coming.”
He must have fallen asleep. The sky had morphed into a sapphire blue as birds began their morning conversation. A motor rumbling in the distance confirmed Audrey’s statement.
He nodded. “Listen, I think we should pretend nothing happened. No trip wires, no visitor in the middle of the night—”
“They told us no more threats or they’d drop us.”
“Exactly. As soon as I get us to safety, I’ll let the raid team know about the yurt and the trip wire bombs.”
She inhaled and tossed her hair over her shoulders as the silver SUV pulled up next to the yurt. Her sleepy eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Give me one second to be ready.” She ran toward the foothills, behind the bushes, and returned a couple moments later. Somehow she looked more put together, as if she’d shaken the dust out of all her clothes. She’d pulled back her hair into a French braid and while her eyelids seemed slightly puffy, she looked fresh and ready for the day. Or was his attraction for her painting her in a better light? He’d never known himself to wear rose-colored glasses.
“So if they ask why we aren’t in the yurt—”
“I don’t think they will. For all they know we just came out here to watch the sun rise.”
“Okay.” She shuffled toward the vehicle before looking over her shoulder. “You coming?”
He hesitated. What had he done? Instead of hanging back, hovering behind him, she now rushed toward danger. He had an irrational compulsion to grab her hand and take off back into the foothills, to keep her safe, but she wasn’t waiting for him.
He caught up to her. “One of those could be Joseph Harrington, you know.”
She nodded. “I remember what his photo looks like, though it’s hard to imagine how he would’ve aged since that photo. You have the gun?” Two men in white polos and white shorts, obviously from the Aislado, stepped out of the SUV. Both too young, with different builds than Joseph. The clean-cut blond boy didn’t hide his surprise at Lee’s disheveled appearance.
The stockier man on the right raised an eyebrow. “How were the accommodations?” He held out two thick, luxury coats.
“As good as could be expected.” Audrey nodded, a slight haughty tone to her voice that almost made Lee chuckle. She eagerly accepted the white coat with a fur-trimmed hood.
The chill in the air had a bite to it but was already warming since their middle of the night escapade. If he had to guess it was high forties, low fifties, but the weather this time of year typically warmed to high sixties. Lee took the red coat. “Is this really necessary?”
“It’s recommended, sir.” The blond opened the back door to reveal only one bench of seats. The rest of the area inside resembled a miniature limousine. Audrey took a step forward and Lee reached for her wrist.
“One second, sweetheart.” Lee turned to the stockier fellow who seemed in charge. “Are we going back to the Aislado?”
“No, sir.”
Audrey looked back and forth between them during the extended pause. “I think my husband wants to know where exactly we are going.”
“A hot air balloon is waiting to take you to a meeting,” the blond said. The other employee pursed his lips as if irritated he’d said anything.
“That explains the early start. We’ll definitely want the coats.” Audrey tugged on Lee’s hand and stepped inside the SUV. They drove due north, away from the foothills. Ten minutes later they pulled up to a flat, mile-squared area that looked as if it’d just been freshly bulldozed as there was nothing but dirt in between the roads. “You can’t steer a hot air balloon,” he mumbled.
She leaned close to him, lowering her voice. “Like you said, this isn’t on the itinerary. My guess is that’s why they parked us at the campground so close to this. No cell reception. It’s entirely dependent on the wind—the flight patterns. I imagine if the weather didn’t cooperate, we would be waiting at the campground until it did. Maybe days.”
“We have no way of knowing where the meet is ahead of time.”
“Exactly. It’s pretty brilliant, really.”
“Keep a watch out for Joseph. If he has any idea that this is the final meeting before we leave, he’s going to try to kill us before we get on that balloon.”
Audrey couldn’t explain the eagerness she felt. It was as if she’d given up a burden last night and was ready to face whatever came her way. The bravado she’d woken up with dissipated, though, the moment Lee reminded her about Joseph. He was right. Now would be the time to take them down. They were in the open, surrounded by a dusty field. “Let’s hope he doesn’t know. It’s not on the schedule so we have a chance.”
She had forgotten to confirm, but she felt certain Lee had brought the gun with them. He rounded the back of the vehicle and walked at her side, his shoulder touching hers and purposefully matching her gait.
Three men in coveralls held ropes to keep the balloon down while the other held the backside of the wicker basket. Audrey examined each of the men. Every single one of them wore a knit hat except for the man literally sitting on the edge of the basket as he wore a navy ball cap with the words “Balloon Operator” embroidered in white on the front. Presumably, they’d been in the cold air for the past half hour or so. No one had what Audrey would describe as bushy hair, and while the men on the ground wore coats and jeans, their builds weren’t what she remembered seeing in the shadows last night.
The basket had four squares on the side, presumably footholds to help them step into the basket, but the man in the cap leaned forward and placed a step stool in front. “Right this way,” he said, and tipped the bill of his hat with gloved hands as he turned to reach for a handle above him. The action revealed the back of his head, as bald and smooth as could be. Definitely not Joseph Harrington. The man squeezed the red handle, and two loud puffs of flames soared from the burners into the balloon above. At least fifty feet wide and seven stories tall, the size of the balloon up close almost took her breath away. They always looked smaller up in the sky. She looked over her shoulder, and Lee nodded his approval to get on board.
The basket seemed big enough to hold at least six people, if not more, and once inside, the top of the basket reached the bottom of her ribs, high enough she felt safe to look without easily falling out. There was a padded black bench along one side and a propane tank the size of a preschooler at each of the four corners. A couple of clear, zippered pouches attached by thick zip ties to the sides of the basket appeared to contain a first-aid kit in one and loose papers and small tools in the other.
The man briefly turned to Audrey. “Hold on. Here we go.” He turned and held up a thumbs-up sign and the guys dropped the three ropes into the basket. Not a very talkative guy, but none of the employees for the Aislado Club had been. He reached up and pressed the same grip as before and the burners roared to life, a giant flame launching straight up. A rectangular piece of metal attached right above the handle, most likely intended as a heat shield, didn’t keep the warmth from hitting her face. It felt similar to the sensation one felt right before being sunburned. If her memory of air currents from weather class in her early years proved accurate, they were likely going to head northeasterly. She turned away from the flame and stationed herself at the north side of the basket, eager to figure out the location of the meeting place.
They ascended at a faster rate than she’d expected, perhaps to avoid the upcoming bundle of trees. The upright pole above her head beeped. It flashed an ascent warning. So they were going a little too fast. The pilot let go of the burner and grabbed a red and white rope coming out of a tube labeled “maneuvering vent.” A whoosh of air could be heard, though she looked up into the balloon and didn’t see any holes. They abruptly stopped ascending but as they passed the trees by, they began to spin. She held on to grip in front of her and kept her focus on the ground, wondering when they would stop turning.
At the 180 mark she squinted. Below, a man was running barefoot with two hands clasped behind his back, wearing nothing but an undershirt and gray boxer shorts. The sun reflected off his bald head—
His bald head? It wouldn’t be hard for a guy to shave his head to take the place of a bald man, especially if he already knew who the pilot was. He could shave and then follow him or hide in the back of his car and take his hat and keep it tilted down as if to shield his eyes from the sun, but maybe to prevent anyone from looking at him too closely. They continued to spin until she was facing north again. She needed to warn Lee.
She turned around only to see the man narrow his eyes, full of rage and hate. In his left gloved hand he held a small black tube. He threw a leg out, kicking her so hard her head and shoulder hit the upright. Her head slipped past the padded pole as she cried out, arms flailing as her forearms hit the pole. The momentum of his kick carried her over the edge. Her feet had long left the bottom of the basket. Her heels slid against the wicker as her shoulders fell backward into nothingness.
Her fingernails clawed the foam around the upright. She dug in, feeling her nails strain and threatening to bend and break. The sound of men fighting reached her ears as the basket swayed as if trying to give gravity a helping hand. She screamed as foam underneath her right hand gave way.
She flattened her palm against the pole. The split-second traction gave her other hand a chance to grip. Her eyes registered nothing but sky and the tops of trees. She tightened her core. She strained her neck against gravity. The tendons in her arms threatened to rip.
“Hang on,” Lee yelled. As if she’d wanted to let go and fall to her death. Several grunts followed, the basket still swaying precariously. It’d be a lot easier if the swaying stopped.
Her muscles were about to give. She hollered through the pain, pulling, tugging. Please. Her side of the basket swung upward. Her elbows reached the pole and she squeezed the joints around it, knowing that the momentum of the swing would return down and likely finish her off.
Lee’s arm wrapped around her midsection and tugged her downward. The pilot jumped up from the floor of the basket, thrusting a weapon, an extended baton at Lee. “Get down!” Lee shouted as he narrowly avoided getting hit.
Audrey crouched and wrapped her arms around her knees. The gun was still tucked in the back of Lee’s waistband, but she didn’t miss the bright red line on the top of his palm. Had he tried to go for the gun and Joseph had attacked him? She cringed at the thought of the pain, but with four propane tanks and a flimsy piece of fabric holding them hundreds of feet up in the air, it was probably best to take him down another way.
Audrey focused on the zippered pocket by her head. Would there be anything in there to help?
Lee stomped on the man’s instep then stepped into his attempted strike, blocking him at his wrist. He took his other hand and twisted until Joseph cried out and dropped the baton. Lee twisted his arm backward until Joseph dropped to a knee. Audrey reached out and grabbed the baton as Lee grabbed the man’s other hand and pulled it behind his back.
The device attached to the upright beeped again. The basket bounced against something. Tentatively Audrey climbed to her knees. They’d hit the top of a tree. In front of them, another set of trees loomed and they were falling. Fast.