High Speed Holiday. Katy Lee
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Ian pulled on his second glove and stamped his feet in the too-tight boots given to him, Sylvie pushed a helmet at his chest.
“Don’t make me regret this, Ian. And make sure you stay alive.” She climbed on her sled. “We ride!” Three of her officers fell in behind her. Ian straddled his sled and started the engine. He revved the gas by turning the handle and after getting acquainted with his machine, saluted Sylvie to let her know he was good to go.
She took off at a breakneck speed. She’d hinted at racing cars as a retired pastime, but obviously snowmobiling hadn’t been given up. Ian had trouble keeping up with her and her team. He had one officer behind him, pressing in on his tail. The guy didn’t like lagging behind, judging by the way he pressed close. Ian gave his sled more gas and leaned in.
Still the officer hedged in.
The officers’ helmets had radios installed in them so they could talk with each other, but no one had given him one. Yelling at the guy to back off did nothing. Ian couldn’t even hear himself over the engines.
But he could feel the officer practically breathing down his neck. Ian’s sled was already pushed to the max. What more did the guy want? Any faster and Ian would be on top of the officer in front of him. He pushed on, but finally couldn’t take it.
Ian flashed his headlight to get someone’s attention.
Only not one person ahead or behind responded with a word or hand signal. Not even a brake light to show they’d slowed down.
Was it a scare tactic done by the police? Was Sylvie in on this?
Ian’s snowmobile jerked and skidded from an impact from behind. He’d been hit. He righted his machine, but knew the officer had struck him with his sled. This just went from annoying to...calculated.
But Sylvie couldn’t be involved. Her oath of duty to serve and protect drove her every decision. The cop behind him was working alone...or perhaps was working for someone else.
The Spencers.
Their wealthy reach exceeded the local PD. They must have people bought and paid for in every back pocket of their designer jeans.
Ian craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the guy so determined to push him off course.
For what?
Was the shooter waiting for him nearby? Maybe this officer just had to roll Ian’s sled off the path and let the killer finish what he was sent here to do.
Get rid of Luke Spencer.
Ian jammed the back of his sled out in a fishtail to push his pursuer off. He stood to his feet on the sled and ramped up the engine to catch up with the officers in the lead. His engine screamed at the assault. He cranked the handle harder, popping the front end of the sled up and back down with a thud.
His teeth jarred with the impact, then clenched as the machine blasted up the mountain. A quick glance over his shoulder and he found his tail gone. Ian drove on and quickly caught up with the other four officers.
The number stumped him. There had been three officers and the chief when they set out, and still there were three officers and the chief.
Then who had been trying to run him off the path?
Ian pushed on to reach the group. Something told him the guy they were pursuing had been behind him the whole time.
The assassin had made the tracks for them to follow, then circled back around to nab his assignment. But where were the tracks leading the police?
Trap. The word lodged in Ian’s throat. He shouted it to no avail. They would never hear his warning before whatever awaited them made its appearance. With no radio, all he could do was race headfirst with them into a trap that Sylvie would fall into before anyone else.
Ian had to stop her. She was experienced, but in the dark mountain night, with only the lights on their sleds, her vision was limited to a few feet. Just enough to keep an eye on the tracks leading them to...where?
A dead end?
Sweat poured down Ian’s back into his suit. His burns were nothing compared to the painful fear gripping his lungs in a vise. Sylvie didn’t deserve this. He was the one who’d brought this danger to her town. He was the one they wanted, and they didn’t mind killing a few cops to achieve their goal.
It wouldn’t even look like murder. It would look like a horrible snowmobile accident that took the lives of four brave officers in hot pursuit. This guy was a skilled mastermind killer.
Ian pushed on, but realized he would need to leave the path and cut them off ahead. It would be the only way to stop them.
Ian peered into the darkness for an alternate path. When one off to his left came into view, he took it and brought his sled up and around a steep pass. At a point he had to stand and lean forward to prevent his sled from falling backward. Overturning it now would be catastrophic.
Finally, his path rejoined the other one, but Sylvie had already flown by.
Ian was able to pull out and cut the officers off.
Two collided at the shock of seeing him, not able to brake fast enough. The third officer pulled off to the side.
Ian whipped off his helmet. “It’s a trap! The guy tried to take me out down the mountain. One of you, radio to stop her.”
“Her radio’s not working!” the one who had pulled off shouted. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of her.”
Ian didn’t wait for any instructions. He had to get Sylvie. He pushed his sled back into Drive and screamed it up the mountain.
Quickly, she came into view...but so did the end of the road. Ian’s light took in all that surrounded her from this far back. But she would only see what was directly in front of her. What she was meant to see.
The tracks.
Tracks that were about to come to an end without warning—straight off the side of the mountain.
Sylvie cranked her throttle to give her engine the gas it needed to continue its steep ascent. She tried her radio again.
No response. She risked a glance over her shoulder to catch her team’s headlights. At least one kept up.
She slowed to allow the rest to do so and quickly the one sled pulled up alongside her. A gloved hand reached over and grabbed her hand.
“What are you doing?” she yelled inside her helmet. She didn’t expect an answer. But suddenly the man pulled her hard and she lost her grip on the snowmobile. His assault didn’t let up and before she could fight back, she found herself draped over his sled and veering in another direction.
The ride came to an abrupt end and Sylvie pushed off into the three-foot-deep snow, landing on her back.
The driver’s hand lifted her up. Sylvie ripped away from him to go after her sled.
Only she couldn’t see it. She also couldn’t hear it.
She tore off her helmet and looked back at the man who’d removed her from her ride. She stepped up to his sled and hit the red kill switch. The machine shut down instantly. “Take the helmet off.”
He did as he was told.
Ian’s face appeared beneath the great unveiling.
“I should have left you behind,” Sylvie said.
“Because I saved your life again?”
“How did you save my life?”
“Do you see your sled around? No, you don’t. That’s because it was a trap. You were following tracks that led you off the side of the mountain.”
Sylvie whipped around to search