Countdown - Iris Johansen [134]
“Don’t move.”
MacDuff’s head whipped around to see Jock standing a few feet away.
“It’s a triple.” Jock carefully stepped across the snow. “Every now and then Reilly planted three land mines in a row across the paths. It would catch anyone trying to avoid the main booby traps.” He was right next to MacDuff. “You shouldn’t be here. You could have gotten hurt.”
“Tell me about it,” MacDuff said grimly. “I could say the same about you.”
“I know these woods. I know where every one of those land mines is planted. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come through here in the pitch dark.” He turned. “Come on. I’ll take you out of here.”
“No, but you can take me to Reilly.”
Jock shook his head.
“Don’t say no,” MacDuff said roughly. “I’m taking him out, Jock. Take me to him or I’ll go by myself.”
“There’s no reason to go. I’ve taken care of it.”
MacDuff stiffened. “You’ve killed him?”
He shook his head. “Soon.”
“I can’t wait. It has to happen now.”
“Soon.”
“Look, you like Jane. She and Trevor are on their way to Reilly’s headquarters now. They don’t know what’s going to happen when they reach there, but it won’t be easy.”
Jock went rigid. “How long ago?”
“They should be there any time.” His gaze narrowed on Jock’s face. “Why?”
“They shouldn’t have gone. I told her to stay at the shack.” Jock wheeled and started in the direction of Reilly’s headquarters. “Follow me. Hurry. Step in my footprints.”
“Believe me, I will.” He carefully placed his boot in Jock’s print in the snow. “Go ahead. I’ll keep up.”
“You’ll have to. I took out both the sentries, but that won’t keep her from—” Jock was flying over the snow. “She’ll die. I told her. She shouldn’t have gone. . . .”
They had to be close to the house, Jane thought. It seemed as if they’d been trekking through these woods forever. Her gaze rose to the branches of the tree in front of her. The cameras were so well camouflaged that she’d only been able to spot two on the way here. How was MacDuff going to take them out if she couldn’t even see them?
Let him worry about that. She and Trevor had their own problems.
“There it is.” Trevor’s low voice in back of her. “Straight ahead.”
She could see the lights too. About a hundred yards from where they were standing. “The snow’s lessening again. Keep your head down.”
“It’s so low it’s practically up my ass now,” Trevor said. “I can’t do any— Get down!”
A shot.
“Jesus.” Jane hit the ground. “The video cam— They know. They saw—”
Another shot.
Trevor grunted with pain.
She looked back at him. Blood. High on his chest. Panic knifed through her. “Trevor?”
“I’m hit,” he said harshly. “Dammit, get the hell out of here. They’ll be streaming out of that house any minute.”
Christ.
“Get out of here!”
“Can you walk?”
“Hell, yes. It’s a shoulder wound.” He was wriggling on his belly toward the trees. “But not as fast as you. Run.”
“You run. They’re not going to shoot me. They were aiming at you. Reilly wants me alive.” She got to her knees. “I’ll run toward them with my hands up and give you time to get away. And don’t you dare argue with me. Find MacDuff. Call the CIA. Do something. I want someone to be out here to come after me when I’m in there with Reilly.”
Another shot.
She heard the thunk of the bullet in the snow close to Trevor’s head.
Her heart jumped to her throat.
No more time.
She sprang to her feet, raised her hands above her head, and started running toward the house.
“No!”
“Stop yelling and move your ass, Trevor. I’m not doing this for nothing.” She glanced over her shoulder and relief surged through her as she saw him rising to a low crouch and running behind the trees.
Relief? He might be dodging those bullets, but what about those damn land mines?
Oh, God, be careful.
Someone was standing in the driveway. A man?
No, a woman. Small, delicate features and a slim, compact body that still managed to appear strong.
And a pistol in her hand pointed straight at Jane.
“I’m not resisting,” Jane said. “I’ve no weapon and I can’t hurt—”
An explosion