The impact of the bullet flung Caden into the air. He landed like a stringless puppet. His hands and feet lifted up in the air and fell down, bouncing off the rock. The sight would live with her the rest of her life.
He lay very still.
She lowered the Glock. Her hand was shaking. She was shaking. Violently. But the cavern had erupted into cheers and catcalls, the men dancing around her. They crowded around her, blocking off her view of Caden’s body.
Ria held up her hands, commanding silence. She looked at Montana with open contempt.
“Tie her hands,” she said.
“What?” Montana’s voice was trembling as much as she was.
“I wondered how far you would take this. You surprised me. I lost two thousand dollars when you pulled that trigger.” She got down from the table, step by careful step and lifted her brow at Montana. “You didn’t believe me, did you? That I’d put a woman in charge of this band of traditionalists?”
There was a roaring in her ears. Sound was beating at her, a white noise. She was afraid to say anything. Afraid to speak. She wished she was dead. Soon, you will be, she told herself.
Ria patted her cheek with avuncular pleasure. “But you were fun to play with, my dear. How delicious it has been. Altogether a wonderful day’s entertainment.” She took a deep breath and let it out with a contented sigh and looked at the men around them.
Someone grabbed Montana’s wrists. Wire was wrapped around them. It dug into her wrists and numbed her hands almost instantly.
“Why?” she asked Ria. Her voice was a croak.
Ria spun to face her, surprised. “Why?” she repeated, her brows lifting high.
“Why any of this? Why? You were respected, a legend. You saved people—a whole country. Saved them! Now you’re tearing down lives. More.”
“Exactly, my dear. That is why I do it.”
Montana shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I do it because I can do it. Power, my dear.” Ria smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Do you know how many history books, encyclopedias, how many chronicles my name appears in? None! Not a single tract anywhere in the world, in any language, acknowledges what I have achieved, what I did achieve in Tahir. But I will be recognized now! I will be applauded. My name will go down in history. Just you watch!”
“You’re doing all this because you weren’t famous?”
Ria gave one of her tinkling, trilling laughs. “In four days or less, I will be famous. Everyone will know my name! They will all acknowledge my power over their lives.”
Montana shook her head. She couldn’t seem to hear properly. The pressure in her head was like a staccato rattle.
The gabble of Arabic and tribal dialects checked, then halted. They were looking at each other.
Then the sound came again. It wasn’t just in her own mind. It was real. It sounded very much like real machine-gun fire would probably sound if it was in an enclosed space.
“That’s the sentries!” Bob cried. “We’re under attack! To your positions!”
The mob about her swirled and moved. Suddenly it was no longer a mob, but streams of men racing away through the five means of access to the cavern, tripping over each other, shouting at each other. They had been caught in their own warren with their guard down. Panic was close.
Ria frowned and whirled to Ghenghis Bob. “To the boat,” she declared in Arabic.
“That is where the fire is coming from!”
“Nevertheless, you must see me through to the boat. I cannot be caught here with these men.”
The cavern was nearly empty now. The machine gun fire was drawing closer. Montana could hear the sound of many voices shouting. Bob glanced at the seaward exits, then back at Ria. He dumped the Glock on the table next to her, dug into his pocket and slapped the remaining bullets beside it. “As they say,” he said in rough English. “Knock yourself out.” He turned and ran for the inner passages.
Montana hurried over to where Caden lay.
“Stop!” Ria cried. “Or I will pull the trigger, too.”
She halted and looked over her shoulder. Ria was pointing the Glock at her.
“You’re out of bullets, remember?” There hadn’t been time for her to refill the clip. Montana would have heard it if she had.
“There’s still one in the chamber.”
Montana backed up a slow step, considering. It was possible Bob had left a bullet in the chamber when he’d stripped the others from the cartridge. It was possible to hold an eleventh bullet in the gun, that way. Bob was the sort of man to take that extra caution. It was attention to details of that type that gave him the nine lives of a cat.
She took another step back and jerked her thumb towards the sea. “That gunfire is getting very close. It’s not all machine guns, either. Someone is coming, Ria. Someone with guns and they sound really pissed to me.”
Another step back.
Ria followed her, the Glock not moving off her midsection. “Who are they?” she demanded.
“How the hell would I know?” Another step.
“It has to be something you did,” Ria insisted, closing in on her fast. “I demand you tell me. I refuse to be out-foxed by a mere girl.”
Despite the numbness in her, Montana almost laughed. “Going to stamp your foot again, Ria?”
The Glock pushed up against Montana’s stomach. “I had you entirely cut off. It’s not possible that you arranged anything. You were completely alone.”
“The world is a big, magical place. Your power doesn’t reach everywhere. Perhaps that’s the cavalry coming to my rescue.”
Ria’s face flushed red with fury. “I’ve power enough to shoot you!”
Caden sat up and yanked Ria’s tiny foot out from under her. Her back and head took the impact of the flat landing. Her head connected square and hard with the solid rock. The Glock bounced and slithered away.
“I’d much rather you didn’t,” Caden told her, his deep voice rumbling in the hollow, empty cavern.
Ria’s head rolled to one side, the eyes closed.
Montana sank down onto the rock beside him. He was sitting up, but his right arm hung limp. Blood soaked the tee-shirt at the shoulder.
He looked at her. His pupils were dilated with shock. “I’m still alive.” His tone held a wonder.
“Of course you are,” she said, trying to sound casual. She ripped her shirt out of her jeans and pulled the buttons undone. A couple flew off the shirt, the cotton snapping. She slid it off and bundled it up. “Can you get your tee-shirt off?”
He blinked at her. “How come I’m still here? You shot me.”
She realized he wasn’t functioning at full throttle. Physical shock could do that. So she reached into his pocket and pulled out the folding knife—they’d taken the big knife, of course. She ripped the cotton away from his shoulder with the blade, bundled up her shirt again and packed it against the wound on either side of his shoulder. Entry and exit. She clamped both hands on it, front and back.
“I aimed for a non-vital point,” she told him. The sound of firing was very close now and she had to lift her voice above it.
“You’re a crack shot, too?” He sounded peeved.
She gave a tiny shrug. “At archery,” she admitted. “I’ve never fired a gun before.”
It took him a moment to respond and then his eyes snapped fire. “You could have killed me!” He was genuinely outraged.
Laughter shook her, but she held it back. “You’ll just have to get even later. Don’t move for a bit, Caden. Whoever had the guns out there is about to come tearing through here and anyone moving is likely to be shot. I’m sure you don’t want to go through this twice.”
He swallowed. Swallowed again. “Very thirsty,” he croaked.
“That’s the shock.”
“I’m in shock. Right. Recognize it now.” He was muttering to himself. Montana suspected he was trying to get his mind clear by forcing himself to process the situation and assess his surroundings. He slowly scanned the cavern, then cocked his head to listen to the approaching force.
Finally, he looked at her. “Hey.”
“You’ll be fine,” she assured him. “It’s a straight through and through. As non-lethal as a bullet shot can get.”
“You’ve got courage, Montana Dela Vega.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re really not scared of me?”
“No, Caden. You don’t scare me anymore, except when you get in trouble. Then I’m scared.”
He seemed to think about that for a moment. Then. “Hey....”
She couldn’t help smiling. “What?”
“I’m in shock, so you have to discount for that, ‘kay?”
She nodded.
He swallowed again. “You’re under my skin, Montana Dela Vega.”
Her heart jumped. She jumped.
“Like a tick?” she suggested, keeping her tone light and her eyes on what her fingers were doing.
“Under my skin and getting deeper every day,” he added. “I realized it when you were pointing the gun at me, with Ria driving you into pulling the trigger. I don’t think anything has ever been so clear to me as that was, right then.”
Montana licked her lips, feeling oddly like she was the one in shock.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he added. “It’s just that I’ve started to like this warts-and-all truth telling. Never had someone I can do that with, you know?”
“I guessed,” she said softly.
“Still takes guts to say it. Couldn’t do it if I was straight.” He was looking at her steadily, his gaze not sparing her. “You’re the one with the real courage.”
As he spoke, there was a muffled thud of rubber-soled boots. Shadows moved across the face of the sea-passages. Then dozens of men poured into the cavern, all wearing different uniforms, carrying a range of weapons, but all sweeping their gazes across the cavern looking for the enemy.
Montana was simultaneously overjoyed to see them and annoyed at their terrible timing. All she wanted was another few minutes alone with Caden.
A tall man in fatigues and carrying a XM177 Colt Commando rifle slowed to a jog, waving the others on. He stopped in front of them. “Montana Dela Vega. What the hell are you doing here? Is that a bra you’re wearing?”
She looked up at the jungle-painted face, peering closely. “Peter Tymchuk?”
Caden looked up at him, back at Montana. “Old boyfriend?” he asked.
She did laugh then. “No, it really is the cavalry. Caden, meet Sergeant Peter Tymchuk of the US Army Rangers.” She looked back at Peter. “What are you doing here? And who are all the others?”
“You whistled up a hell of a storm,” Peter said. He squatted, rested his rifle butt on the floor and leaned on it. “We’ve got Rangers, Australian and Canadian SAS, local police, even a couple of Mounties, would you believe? There’s a shitload more personnel outside waiting to hear we’ve found you.”
“Me? I whistled up?” Montana blinked.
Pete pointed at Ria. “Who’s this?”
“Only the brains behind this whole thing.”
“Get out!” he said. He nodded towards Caden. “Your friend needs medical attention?”
Caden pointed at Montana. “She shot me.”
Pete lifted a brow. “Riiiight.”
Caden gave a sudden, huge yawn. “Tired,” he muttered.
“I’ll get the paramedics here,” Pete said. He touched his chest. “Captain?... Yeah, got two wounded civilians here and a third, untouched...Yeah, it’s Montana... One of the wounded is apparently the boss of the outfit... Right, thanks. Out.” He picked up his rifle. “I have to keep pushing on, but they’ll be here directly.”
“Thanks, Pete.” She watched him run for the far side of the cavern, then turned back to Caden. “Caden, do you need insulin?”
“Glycogen.” He took a deep breath. “Bloody arm....” he muttered. “Can’t lift it.”
“I’ll do it. We need to be quick, the paramedics will be here in a second.”
“Right pocket,” he said.
As she pulled out the little pouch, he tugged her arm with his good hand to get her attention. His black eyes looked calmly into hers. “Thanks.”
She smiled, feeling a warm glow it took her a while to identify. It was contentment.
* * * * *
When they finally emerged from the caves via the land entrance, it was still daylight, which shocked Montana. It felt like a lot longer than a few short hours had passed. It was explosively hot, even beneath the shady canopy of the forest. It was also very, very noisy.
There were vehicles everywhere, many of them with dome lights turning in lazy circles, flashing red, orange, yellow. Other vehicles were a nondescript grey or dark green that spoke of military purposes. There were also more than a handful of plain sedans. Government authorities, she guessed.
The paramedics had escorted them both out of the caves, anxious to get Caden to one of the ambulances where they had better equipment to do a field analysis on his condition, although the twenty-something guy who had examined his shoulder had been relatively happy about it. “In and out, bit of muscle with it. Could have been worse. A quarter inch higher, he’d have a broken collar bone. An inch lower, you’re clipping the top of the lung and other nasty stuff.”
Caden had sent her a withering look at that pronouncement. “Archery....” he muttered darkly.
Conversely, she knew he was pleased at her marksmanship, even though she freely admitted luck had played a huge part in it.
Boyd Nelson was waiting at the ambulance for her, anxiously swaying from foot to foot. There was a man in his sixties with him, wearing the only business suit in the area, jacket, tie and all.
Nelson lifted up his hands when he saw her. “There you are!”
“Nelson, what the hell are you doing here?” Montana let go of Caden’s arm as the medic pulled him toward the ambulance and pulled the thin blanket around her shoulders tighter together. Nelson’s eyes bulged.
“What did they do to you?” he cried, hands to his face.
She realized he’d seen her lack of clothing beneath the blanket and shook her head. “Not what you think,” she assured him. “I used my shirt to tend a wound.”
“Rawn’s?”
“That’s right. Nelson, did you have anything to do with all this?” She waved her hand around the clearing, at the frenetic activity there and the huge number of people hurrying about.
Nelson looked down at his feet. “I might have.”
“Nelson?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I suppose it was me.”
“But you said....” She glanced at the silver-haired gentleman next to him. “You remember what you said, I know.”
Nelson touched her arm, drawing her away from the others. He lowered his voice. “I’ll remember it the rest of my life,” he said with fervor. His face flushed red. “I couldn’t just sit back after that and let you do it alone. So I pulled the tapes on our interview and gutted it for any facts you’d provided that would point to where you were—where these terrorists of yours were. Then I spoke to that Mountie friend of mine, who spoke to his supervisor and suddenly we had an operation on our hands. We had to bring the Australian authorities into it, as it’s their turf.”
“You just happened to have a handful of Army Rangers sitting around just waiting for your beck and call?”
“They came in on the carrier that arrived in Fremantle three days ago. So yes, they were just sitting around, spoiling for some fun. I think if you were to check with most of the people wearing uniforms here that they came along just to break the monotony. Nothing exciting ever happens in Western Australia.”
Montana could feel giggles rising and squashed them. They were a product of tiredness and the release of tension. “Well, they’ve got their fun now. Nelson, you couldn’t have arrived at a better time.” She reached on tiptoe and kissed his ruddy cheek. “Thank you.”
Nelson sighed. “There’s going to be a lot of very frustrated authorities that will want to talk to you, from about six different countries.”
Caden stepped to her side. He was shirtless again and there was a patch of gauze taped across his shoulder, looking very white in the subdued light. Filth streaked his jeans and flesh, but his eyes were bright. He looked fresh and rested.
“You’ve caught us all with our pants down, Montana,” Nelson added. “I’ll be frank. Those who are the most embarrassed by this will not thank you for it. You’re going to have an interesting few weeks.”
She shrugged. “How many of the cave dwellers have been rounded up?”
But Caden held up his hand, staring at Nelson. “Can’t you slide her past all that? If they get hold of her, they’ll clamp on like limpets. She’ll be tied up in red tape the rest of her life.”
“What can I do?” Nelson said, spreading his hands.
“You arranged all this, didn’t you?” Caden asked, waving a hand at the clearing. “Claim you have priority call on her time. Get her out of the country fast. Get her back home. She can write out a complete statement and let them feed on that rather than her.”
Nelson nodded slowly. “Yes, you may be right.”
“It’s all in how you look at it,” Caden said smoothly.
“And you’re ducking my question,” Montana complained. “How many have they found in the caves?”
Nelson scratched his head. “Six dead, including your pal, Ghenghis Bob. They just bought his body to the surface. Fifty-three detained.” He shook his head. “Who’d have suspected they were there? All this time?”
“Montana did,” Caden said flatly. His gaze pinned Nelson with no mercy.
Nelson flushed a little.
“That’s all they’ve found? Fifty-three?” Montana said. “That’s it?”
“There’s more?” Nelson said sharply.
“Ria was talking about four hundred-plus people down there. I don’t know if she was exaggerating, but there was about three hundred standing around when Caden when...they brought Caden before Ria.”
“She’s right, Nelson,” Caden added. “I’d put it closer to four hundred.”
“Plus there was a team of them shipped out last night,” Montana said.
“How many?” Nelson demanded.
“She didn’t tell me. But you need to reach out to whoever you can reach out to. Every ship currently on the Indian Ocean needs to be stopped and searched.”
“Oh, lordy, the headaches this is going to cause.” Nelson clutched his head. “That’s this Ria person? The little old lady they hauled out? She’s their leader?”
Montana grinned. “Nelson, you want to sit down for this one. That sweet little old lady is Arriabata Anderson Finch-Jones. You’d know her better as Nicollo.”
Nelson’s eyes bugged out. “Impossible!”
“About as impossible as four hundred terrorists camping out in caves in Western Australia?” Caden asked.
Nelson snapped his jaw shut with an audible click. “I need to let someone know the real numbers,” he muttered and hurried off.
They watched him go. “They’ll be rounding them up for a week down there,” Caden said, his tone thoughtful. “Those caves run all over the place.”
“Some will get away,” Montana observed.
“Problem is, it’s the better ones that will make it out.”
“So the best will have to hunt them down again.” She shrugged. “They won’t have a convenient rabbit hole to scuttle into this time. They’re on the run. They’ll make mistakes.”
“Which reminds me. How did you know that shooting me where you did wasn’t fatal?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. “I’m not even going to ask what the association is, there.”
Caden grinned. “Survival of the fittest. Natural selection. I seem to have won the pot today, thanks to you. Was it as much dumb luck as you say it was?”
“I read about it in a book,” she said.
“Figures.” He looked around again. “You know, there’s no one standing around here insisting you sign papers or answer questions.”
She glanced around. No one was taking any notice of them.
“You’re right.”
“Time to cut and run,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
* * * * *
They ducked under the police tape that cordoned off a good two acres of the forest. On the other side of the barrier, there were thirty or forty people dotted along the borders, straining to see what was going on.
As they emerged onto the old logging track, which was churned and furrowed from all the heavy traffic, half-a-dozen or more of the by-standers broke away from the line and hurried after them.
“Montana! Wait!”
She glanced over her shoulder and halted. Jogging down the track after them was Jacko, Bruce, Greg and four or five other people she knew from the beaches. Surfers all, and addicted to the lifestyle.
They rushed up to her. “Man, are you all right?” Bruce asked, reaching out but not quite grasping her arm. “We heard you were mixed up in all this stuff.”
“You came out to check?” She smiled. “I’m fine.”
Jacko glanced at Caden. “I’m guessing you’re fine only by the skin of your teeth. That’s a bullet wound or I’m a Kiwi.”
Caden lifted his brow, but didn’t comment. Montana realized he’d fallen back into his defensive mode. Even his shoulders were squared and braced.
He doesn’t let people in easy.
But she was in. She was on the other side of the shield. She had seen the real Caden. Because she had seen him, she understood why he held people at arm’s length.
She caught Jacko’s eye. “We want to avoid the crowds,” she said. “Want to walk with us?”
Jacko, Bruce and Greg fell in beside them and they walked down the track towards town, leaving the rest of the surfers behind.
“We didn’t just come to make sure you didn’t get your ass busted, you know,” Bruce finally offered.
“No?” She let the question dangle, unspoken.
Jacko glanced over his shoulder. “They’re out of sight,” he declared.
The three surfers came to a halt and ranged before them.
Montana studied their grave faces. “What is it?” she asked.
Jacko scrubbed at his chin with his fist. “It’s about Borelli. The police captain. And the cop, Steve, the one you were hanging with. There’s something you should know. And there’s something Bruce has to show you.”