Lose Your Breath (Detectives Kane and Alton)

Dave shrugged. “They were my orders, Annie. Trust me, you’re better off dead than falling into their hands.”

She said nothing and just leaned against a boulder, staring at the ground.

Using his flashlight, Dave searched the area before finding a suitable place to hole up. He walked a few paces to another pile of rocks and then back. “Grab the blanket and sit here. Drink some water and we’ll eat something while we wait.” He pointed to a secluded spot. “If you need to pee. Go now, over there. You’ll be able to use the flashlight. No one is on the road just now.”

“What were you looking for in the rocks?” Annie took the flashlight from him.

Dave removed his backpack and set up his rifle. “Critters. They like to hide under things and in the cracks in rocks.” He waved her away. “Hurry, we haven’t much time. Once we see headlights coming down the road, it’s game on.”

He checked the range on his rifle, turning the gauges and lining up the road. He’d positioned them as far as possible from the range of an automatic rifle fired from the road. As Annie came back and sat where he’d suggested, he dropped down beside her and pulled out the blanket, food, and water. He smiled at her blank expression. It was as if the reality of their situation had finally sunk in. “Sorry for the reality check, but we’re in serious trouble. When this goes down, we’ll be moving fast. It’s best you eat now even if you’re not hungry. First rule is, eat when you can, sleep when it’s safe, and keep one eye open.” He cleared his throat and thought of something to say to her to ease the tension. “What I wouldn’t do for a freshly brewed coffee with cream and sugar right now and an entire freshly baked peach pie.”

“You’re so good at smoothing things over. I’m not so good. My dad says I’m as stubborn as a mule and twice as ornery.” She smiled at him. “I can change the subject too. Right now, a double-shot latte would go down just fine.” She wrinkled her nose. “What they have here is very different to what I’m used to, but it’s nice.” Annie dived into the bag of dates and took the chunk of goat cheese he offered her.

“It’s called qahwa, the wine of the desert, I believe.” He ate slowly, one eye constantly on the road below them in the valley. “It gives the caffeine buzz and to be served it is a privilege, especially from the farmers we’ve been meeting. They have very little and shared their food with us.”

“They were well compensated by the amount of money you gave them.” Annie leaned out from her hiding place and peered at the road. “I thought I could hear something and now I see lights.”

Dave pushed her gently back into the cover of the rocks and pulled the blanket tight around her legs. He handed her his sidearm. “Same as before, okay? If I go down, don’t hesitate. Under the chin is best. You won’t feel a thing.” He squeezed her arm. “Don’t look around the rock at what’s happening, or they’ll see you. Any movement will give away our position. Don’t talk to me. When it’s over I’ll come get you. Understand?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him anxiously, her face very pale under the moonlight. “Will you be close by?”

He pointed higher up. “I’ve set up my rifle up there. I’ll have an advantage.”

A calmness dropped over him as he climbed up the rocks and stretched out. He checked his scope and watched the truck rumble along the dusty road toward them. His heart slowed and all his focus was centered on his target. Game on.

Chapter Ten

Fear crept over Annie as the sound of the militia truck came closer. She pressed her back into the narrow fissure between the rocks and pulled the blanket up to her chin as if it would protect her. Dave’s sidearm sat beside her within easy reach, the cold metal disappearing in the shadows. She touched it again to make sure it was there. Above her, Dave was like a statue. He didn’t make a sound or move an inch. The rumbling engine came closer and then she heard a low phutt from above followed by three more. Dave was firing at the truck and his rifle hardly made a sound. Another phutt, and an explosion shook the earth. The sky lit up and debris showered down on her pinging across the rocks. She covered her head with her arms and hoped it was over but Dave was firing again.

Trembling all over, she waited, but the long silence that followed frightened her. Had he been hit? Was the militia heading her way? She eased her hand over the dirt and her fingers touched the weapon. Heart pounding, she closed her palm around the cold handle. She clamped her mouth shut but couldn’t stop her teeth chattering. When gravel rolled down the rocks and Dave came into view, he looked different. The robotic man was back with a vengeance. He said nothing, just packed up his rifle and dropped the backpack at her feet. She looked up at him. “Did you get them?”

“Yeah.” Dave held out a hand for the sidearm. “Wait here. I’ll roll the bodies into the dry riverbed beside the road. They’ll be out of sight for the next patrol. When I’m done, I’ll drive the truck as close to you as possible and come get you. Stay here. You don’t need to see this, okay?”

Annie stared at his grim expression. “I’ll come and help you. I’m not squeamish.”

“No!” Dave turned away, pulling on his night-vision goggles. “Stay here. That’s an order. Keep watch—militia use this road—and call out if you see any lights. I’m going to be busy for a while.” He hurried away through the rocks and down the side of the valley without making a sound.

Annie watched him go, his long robes flowing. He’d soon become a ghostly shadow moving fast toward the truck in the middle of the road. Alongside a crater, small fires had broken out in the tufts of dry grass and a small bush was alight, sending flames leaping into the night. The flames danced in the wind, sending an eerie glow across the fallen militia. Smoke from the burning grass filled the air with the smell of bonfires as it drifted across the road obscuring her view. From time to time, she could see Dave moving around, dragging bodies across the road and rolling them out of sight. She swallowed the bile threatening to fill her mouth. It had all become so horribly real. Dave had killed to protect her. She hunkered down but kept a watch on the road in both directions. After half an hour, maybe more, she noticed lights on the horizon. Panic gripped her. Someone was coming fast. The lights bobbing up and down on the uneven, potholed track were minutes away. Had Dave seen them? Throwing caution to the wind, she cupped her mouth. Will he be able to hear me? “Incoming.”

She repeated the call as loud as she could and watched frozen in terror as the militia truck, flag flying high, came into view. As she looked back at the road, Dave had vanished, but the oncoming truck had slowed and she could make out a gun atop the vehicle with one soldier behind it. The truck came to a standstill, the headlights picking out the crater in the road and the debris scattered all around. Annie held her breath as the door opened with a rusty squeak. From the interior light, she made out two men. One climb

ed out and walked toward the other truck, his rifle held shoulder high. He moved around the truck with caution, peering in the cab and the back, all the time yelling at the others.

The man’s attention went to the riverbed. He stood on the edge and then lowered his weapon. He started screaming and waving his arms around at his companions. His flashlight lit up the roadway and he yelled again. The next moment, the other men ran toward him and they all headed down to the riverbed. Where was Dave? Had they seen him? She gripped the rock until her nails broke and stared into the darkness. Her stomach tightened in fear and nausea made her gag but she couldn’t stop looking as the flashlight moved from side to side, stopping occasionally and then moving again.

Annie waited, heart in her mouth, straining her eyes for any movement. The next second, three shots rang out, echoing through the valley like a death knell. She let out an uncontrollable sob. Dear Lord, help her. They’d found him.

Chapter Eleven

Texas

Wolfe checked the clock again for the tenth time in a minute. Ninety-eight H should have checked in ten minutes ago. He scanned the screens. His operative’s red blip pulsed in a stationary position, and from the satellite feed, he could clearly see two militia trucks and spot fires spreading along the road. He rubbed the back of his neck. If the militia truck was the transport Ninety-eight H had planned to obtain, he’d picked a good spot for an ambush. In a valley, the road passed through a rugged barren hillside. If he’d taken out the men on the trucks, he might be waiting to make sure it was all clear before proceeding. He stood and paced up and down the length of his new office, fully equipped with the best communications the military could offer. He had no option but to wait. Contacting his operative could cause a fatal distraction. It was twelve after six in Texas and he’d eaten dinner with his kids and spent some time with his wife.

He never liked leaving her alone for a second but since connecting her to the morphine drip she was rarely awake. It tore him apart watching her waste away but there was nothing he could do to save her and God knows they’d tried everything. Finally, she’d insisted he take her home and refused to undergo anymore experimental treatments. He’d wanted to fight until the end but had respected her wishes. He could see the life draining from her, and as much as it would break his heart for her to leave him, as a doctor he knew it would be a blessing. She’d suffered long enough.

He’d been staring at the satellite picture but not seeing it and blinked as the trucks moved off together and the red dot moved along the road. Did the militia have Ninety-eight H’s body? There would be no way they’d take him alive. The voice in his earpiece startled him as Ninety-eight H checked in. He heaved a sigh of relief. “Copy. I was ready to write your obituary. You’re giving me an ulcer.”

“I’d just taken out a band of militia and then we had company. Long story, but now we have two trucks. If Uncle Sam does a flyby, make sure they have my coordinates, I don’t want to be taken out by friendly fire. I’m flying a militia flag here.”