Wolfsbane (27 page)

A nudge against her shoulder resisted her attempt to sleep.

Arms slid under her thighs and around her shoulders. Weightlessness startled her. She jerked, eyes flashing open.

“Shh,” Canyon muttered as he carried her to the place he’d been preparing.

Eyes drooping, she barely noticed the lean-to. Robotically, she crawled into the space and slumped on her side. Canyon wedged in behind her. His breath dashed across the back of her neck as his arm rested over her hip. The lean-to’s compact size provided no room for propriety-demanded distance. Right now she didn’t care. Having him close, having him holding her—all was right with the world.

Sleep claimed her greedily.

Fire licked the walls of the huts. Smaller ones, devoured by the flames, collapsed with a whoosh of heat and ash
.

Canyon grabbed her arm. “No, don’t go back there!”

“Please, I must get my mother!” She jerked free, stumbled but raced toward the burning hut
.

“It’s too dangerous!”

Behind him, something snapped
.

He turned
.

A scream echoed through the night. He looked back. The hut she’d gone into pitched forward, then—

Snap!

Canyon’s eyes popped open, his heart racing. He blew out a ragged breath. A dream. It was only a dream.

He let his head drop back against the sodden ground, awakened to the fact he lay pressed against Roark. Exhaling slowly, he closed his eyes. Wondered what Range would say about this. He couldn’t help the grin. Range had always been a plan-first, act-later guy. It’s why he usually lost out. But Canyon couldn’t let his impulsive nature loose again. Not with Roark. She was too valuable. In the cacophony of jungle noise, he honed
in on her soft breathing. Man, this felt right. Being with her.

God …

He stopped, uncertain what to pray. The honorable part of him would ask God to help guard against temptation. Canyon knew what he was made of, what he was prone to do. But he didn’t want any more pain inflicted because of his bullheaded, steam-forward determination.

Crack-snap
.

More of the same filtered into his awareness. Soft, steady steps. Several. It wasn’t a dream. Someone—several men—lurked in the trees close by.

With great care, he lifted his head off his arm so he could move it. He brought his other hand toward Roark’s mouth, in case she jerked and yelped when he tried to wake her.

To his surprise, her cold fingers coiled around his arm, then released. Grateful for her silent signal that she was awake, he reached for his SOG. “Stay.”

Footsteps drew closer.

Canyon eased the knife from his side pocket. At the same time, he angled his body away from Roark, so, if discovered, he could lunge at the intruder. Silently, he cursed himself for giving in so quickly to exhaustion. If they’d kept moving, maybe they’d have put more distance between them and these rebels.

No point looking back now.

He tried to squint past the leaves and branches. How many were there? Could he take them? Probably not without getting shot or killed.

“Raul,
rápido
!”

“Cállate,”
the man near them muttered.

Glancing down the length of his body, Canyon saw into the sprinkling of dawn light, saw the man approaching.

“Juan encontró la pista. ¡Rápido! ¡El general ordena que sean encontrados!”
Voices called through the jungle, farther away than whoever was near their hiding place.

Dani craned her neck so her lips were near his ear and whispered, “He said the general wants us found.”

“Espere. He escuchado algo.”

She gripped Canyon’s arm tightly. “He heard me.”

The guy stepped closer.

His boot hit Canyon’s.

CHAPTER 17

C
anyon scissored his legs and swept the guy off his feet. He lunged out of the lean-to.
Boom!
Thunder clapped through the air, deadening the man’s grunt that no doubt punched the breath from his lungs as he hit the ground.

When the guy went for a weapon, instinct and training kicked in. Canyon pounced on his chest before the guy could draw that first, painful breath. He jerked the man’s head to his left. With his reverse hold he drove the blade into the side of the neck.

The man gasped. Gurgled.

Canyon threw hard left into the man’s face. The body went limp.

He whipped around. “Roark.” He kept his voice stern but quiet.

She scampered from the shelter.

Pointing her away from the others, he growled, “Move!”

Roark hustled down the slippery terrain.

Behind them, dulled by the rain and thunder, shouts gave pursuit.

Together they darted through a grove of trees, down a hill, moving southwest away from the scouting party. He stuffed the blade away and let the downpour wash the blood from his hands as they sprinted through the sloping mountainside.

With her ahead of him, Canyon retrieved the waterproof container tucked in his pocket. His conscience wrestled with him, but he could feel the throb and strain of the mission taking over. He unscrewed the cap and dumped a couple of its contents into his mouth. He swallowed hard and kept moving.

Survival justified his actions. Neither made it easy to sleep.

Fifty Klicks Northeast 5 May

Zooming in gave Max a halo-green image of the facility approximately 150 yards from their current position. “Two tangos on each corner. Security gate with two more tangos. Building’s got heavy activity.”

“Just like we expected.”

Max lowered the high-powered binoculars and glanced at Legend. “Right down to the number of lights.”

“So, we do this thing,” Legend said.

“And get out.” And not a minute too soon because the team wasn’t going home without every man and woman accounted for.

“What about Midas?” Crouched beside them, the Kid looked around. “I mean, we’re not just going to leave them, right?”

“Mission priority is the facility,” Squirt said.

Anger lit through the Kid’s face. “Dude, don’t—”

Max patted his shoulder. “First things first, Kid.”

“Even if we found Midas,” Cowboy added, “if we don’t finish the mission, the girl is up against a mountain of trouble.”

“Then we find them, right?”

A faint noise echoed through the stormy country drawing Max’s attention from the guppy-like kid. Max skated a practiced gaze over the terrain. The trees. Hills. Plains. Miles. Nothing stood out, but he was convinced they were out there. Somewhere. Hearing that gunfire reinforced his belief that Midas and the girl had survived. That’s when he saw a chopper hovering over a small peak. “Black Hawk.”

“Not good,” the Kid said.

Legend drew out his sniper rifle scope. “Dropping five—no, six men.”

Seconds later, the chopper veered off and disappeared over the next swell in the mountain. Had the helo deposited more trouble?

Gut twisting at the thought of losing Midas and the girl, Max refocused. “Okay, Squirt and Aladdin, let’s go. Legend, Kid, and Cowboy, I’m counting on your sniper skills to keep us intact and alive. Rendezvous on the coast.”

“No extra holes in my body, please,” Azzan said, looking at Legend, who glowered.

“All right. Let’s get it done and get out.”

5 May

“I can’t … I can’t keep going.” Dani gulped air and bit through every step she took, following Canyon down the steep hillside. Who cared if he thought she was weak? A bug buzzed around her head. She swatted it.

A branch snagged her ankle. Stumbling forward, she grunted. Whimpered. And did Canyon care? No, he just kept hiking, climbing over one hill after another. They topped an incline, then started the descent. Between a gap in the branches, she caught sight of miles and miles of nothing but the same.

She deflated. How big was this godforsaken country? She was so tired. Leaves swayed, smacked her face. Whatever. She’d probably hug the guerillas if they came after her. Okay, that wasn’t true, but for heaven’s sake—when would they find safe haven? In a pout she stomped her foot—and it slipped out from under her. She plopped onto her bottom. Slid.

Canyon caught her hand and stopped her. Dangling from his hold, Dani tilted her head back and stared up at the green, mocking canopy. At least the rain had stopped.

He scooted next to her. “Giving up already?”

“I’m done.” She sounded like a simpering, petulant child, but who cared? “I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m so tired I can’t think to even put one foot in front of the other. Everything hurts. And if I slid down this whole mountain, I wouldn’t care.”

He chuckled. “Give it a try, and I bet you’ll change your mind.”

Her anger flared as she snapped her gaze to his. “I’m not made of the jungle like you.”

He frowned.

“And you can get mad or be disappointed or hate me or whatever.” She slapped the wet ground and shook her head. “I’m through.”

He pushed up on his knees, disgust clear in his eyes. “So, what, you’re going to lie there and let them find you?”

Her heart tripped.

On his feet, Canyon pointed in the direction they’d just come. “Bruzon’s men are right behind us. I’m sure they’d love to find you waiting for them.” He turned and started down the hill.

“How dare you!”

He waved and kept walking.

Smacking the mud again only splashed more mud on her face. In disbelief she watched as he trudged down the slope, using the branches and trees to maneuver. She stomped to her throbbing feet and yelled, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he called over his shoulder. “And probably every guerilla around us knows, too, thanks to you.”

Tears misted her eyes. Stupid, stupid tears. She didn’t have the energy they required. She started after him, determined to … to … well, she didn’t know what, but she’d figure it out by the time she reached him. Maybe punch him in the nose. Or smear that stupid smirk in the mud. The thought propelled her onward. And onward. How had he gotten so far ahead?

Finally, she could coil her fingers around enough material in his shirt to stop him. She yanked him backward.

Canyon turned.