Guarding the Witness. Margaret Daley
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happened to them. What had he slept through?
Hurrying toward his door, he shoved deep down the thought of the worst occurring. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked. He had to be as detached and professional as possible. There would be time later for emotion.
He eased open the door a crack and listened. Silence ruled. For a second he wondered if he’d dreamed hearing the sound. Hoped he had. Then a whisper of a noise alerted him to Arianna easing her door open slightly. His gaze seized hers, and he knew she’d heard the same thing. It wasn’t a dream.
The cabin had been compromised. Fortifying himself with a deep breath, he swung the door open wide and stepped out into the hallway with his Glock pointed toward the living room. To his side he noticed Arianna stepping into the corridor. He shook his head. She ignored him and continued out into the hall with a gun in her hand.
He shouldn’t be surprised she’d brought her own gun to the cabin. He would have in her place. But still he frowned and tried to convey silently that she get back into her room.
A low moan coming from the living room refocused his full attention on the threat in the cabin. Short of handcuffing her to her bed, she would be backing him up. Waving her behind him, he crept down the hallway. At least this way he could shield her.
Toward the entrance into the living room, he slowed and flattened himself against the wall then inched forward. Much to his dismay Arianna copied him but on the other side of the corridor. She brought her Glock up, both hands clasping it. She ignored the displeasure he knew showed on his face, her gaze trained on the living area.
At the moment, survival was the most important objective. He gave up trying to have Arianna hang back. He knew from all the reports she was very capable of handling herself so he indicated she cover the left side of the room while he took the right. They entered in unison.
One large man was dragging Mark’s body out of sight while Brody glimpsed another intruder by the front door.
“Drop your weapons,” Brody said, preparing for them not to obey.
The guy moving Mark ducked down behind the kitchen counter while the one at the door raised his gun and fired. Arianna squeezed off a round at the shooter then stepped back behind the wall into the hallway for cover. While that intruder went down with a wound to the chest, Brody dived behind the couch and crawled forward to get a better angle on the attacker in the kitchen. He popped up at the same time Brody aimed his Glock and took the man out. The thud resounded through the cabin when he crashed to the floor.
Brody rose, swinging around in a full circle to make sure there were no more assailants in the cabin. Arianna had disappeared down the hallway, and the sound he heard now of doors opening and closing as she checked each room raised his admiration for the lady’s skills.
When Arianna came back, he said, “I’m checking outside. There may be more. I need to see where Kevin is. You’ll have to see if Mark is alive. From his injury, I don’t think he is.” But he prayed his partner was. And Kevin.
“Be careful. Sending two men to kill four doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. That’s what concerns me.” As he approached the intruder by the door, he leaned over and felt for a pulse. “This one is dead.”
Arianna arrived in the kitchen. “So is this guy.”
He opened the door. “What about Mark?”
Ducking down behind the counter, Arianna answered in a heavy voice, “Dead.”
That was what he’d thought. With a head wound Mark hadn’t had a chance to get a shot off. And to get into the cabin they had to go through Kevin. A young marshal with only a year’s experience. Again he reminded himself to tamp down his emotions. Later he could mourn the dead. His only goal was to protect Arianna.
“Lock this after I leave.” Dread at what he would find blanketed him as he slipped through the front door out onto the porch. Already the night sky started growing light as sunrise neared at four-thirty.
No one was on the porch. Alert, every muscle taut with tension, Brody descended the steps and slinked toward the left side of the cabin. When he rounded the corner, a man plowed into him, sending him flying back. Brody managed to keep a grip on his gun even while his arms flung out. The impact with the ground caused the air to swoosh from him. The bulky assailant crushed him into the dirt, sitting on him, knees pinning down his arms and fists pounding into Brody’s upper body and face. Stars swam before Brody’s eyes. From deep inside him he drew on his reserve, fueled by a spurt of adrenaline. He was the only thing standing between Arianna and death.
Between punches Brody sucked in a shallow breath, laced with the scent of sweat, then poured what strength he had into freeing one of his pinned arms. When he did, Brody cuffed the brute on the side of the head with his Glock. The man’s drive slowed. Brody struck him again with the butt of the weapon.
His assailant growled and swiveled his upper body, grasping the hand that held the weapon. His attacker wrestled Brody for the gun, trying to twist his arm—possibly to break it. The Glock hovered between them. Brody focused all his will on an effort to regain control of the weapon. His chest burned with the lack of oxygen. The gun wavered inches from Brody, the barrel slowly turning toward him. A dark haze edged into his mind. Brody sent up a silent plea to God, and with a last burst of strength, he halted the Glock’s momentum, then he began turning the end toward his assailant’s torso.
Brody pulled his finger around the trigger with the man’s hand still covering his. Brody stared into his attacker’s dark eyes as the bullet exploded from the weapon, striking his assailant’s chest. He jerked then slumped over, pinning Brody to the ground.
His ears ringing, the scent of gunpowder filling his nostrils, he shoved the man off him and scrambled away, never taking his eyes off his attacker. In the dim light of predawn he felt for a pulse. Gone. He checked the man’s pockets for ID. There was none, but he found a switchblade with blood on it. Brody searched the area.
What happened here? Where is Kevin?
Tension stretched every nerve to beyond its limit. Rising, Brody kept scanning the terrain as he circled the cabin, using the shadows to cover his presence as much as possible. By the time he reached the porch again, he was even more confused by what had happened. Kevin was nowhere he could see, and he hadn’t encountered anyone or anything else suspicious.
When he knocked on the door, he said, “It’s Brody.” He noticed the drapes over the window move, then a few seconds later the click on the lock sounded in the quiet. Too quiet. No birds tweeted. No howls of the wolves he’d heard earlier. The hairs on his nape stood up.
How did the assailants arrive? Not by helicopter. He would have heard that. By four-wheel drive? By foot?
The door swung open. Arianna took one look at him and dragged him inside. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”
“He’s dead. I can’t find Kevin. At least he’s not near the cabin or in the open area.”
“I almost came out when I heard the gunshot to check on you.”
“What stopped you?”
“Whether you believe it or not, I can follow orders. I figured if someone killed you, my best chance was in here, and if you got the jump on one of them, you’d be back. I was going to give you another five minutes before reassessing what I needed to do. In the meantime, I checked the pockets of these two. No identification on them. All they brought with them was their Wilson Combat revolvers and this.” She held her palm flat with a piece of paper on it. “A detailed map to this cabin.”
“Great. They didn’t just stumble upon us.”
“You thought they did?”
“No, but I could dream they had and no one else knew about the cabin yet. At least until I could get you safely away from here.”
Arianna’s mouth pinched into a frown as she stared at the nearest dead assailant. “As you know, we