Tempting trouble, p.27
Tempting Trouble, page 27
“Instead of ‘real’,” she said, remembering the earlier conversation with the man behind the counter.
“Here, you try it.” He gave her the other weapon.
It was really quite light. She played with it for a minute, then aimed at the target. She pulled the trigger. A bright blue splattered over the yellow. Wrapping her arm around her chest, with the gun pointing safely away, she looked up at Lance, her brows arched. Okay, she’d done everything he’d told her. It was time for some explanation.
Lance admired her accuracy for a moment, then turned back to her. As expected, she was an excellent shot. It was time for him to find out what she was made of. She could play with words all she wanted, but this time, he would know for sure whether she was for real. He’d come to the conclusion he should just ignore her age and treat her like he would one out in the field. Let’s see the rest of your arsenal, hellcat. He pulled out a map from the same package.
“I’m only telling this once, so pay attention,” he told her. His voice, she noted, had changed into that of someone giving orders, the instructions coming out crisp and staccato. He flattened the sheet on the hood and she looked down at it, following his moving finger. “Follow that path. To the east, there’s an incline. Your target is this lodge. You might find lunch there, who knows? But watch out for this stretch before the target. There are six-foot deep holes all over. See? They’re hidden. The perimeter is all water and fenced up. Don’t try to climb over the fence. I wouldn’t recommend it. The other side of the fence is Course D and the soldier told me they’re using real bullets there today. Your real goal is here. There are several different ways that lead to it. Pick one. My car is parked there and if you get into it without a shot to your head or heart, you survive.”
She digested the flow of information, concentrating on the map. When she was satisfied she’d memorized it, she slowly nodded. “What would you be doing?” She’d gathered from his instructions she was expected to be on her own.
Lance’s smile was positively wicked. “I’m coming after you, babe. You have a head start while I hand over the car, then I’ll track you and cancel you.”
Grace was too stunned to speak for a moment. “This is my exercise?” she asked, incredulous.
He nodded, serious. “You did mention you were taught by the best this morning,” he reminded her, the tone of his voice silky soft, with an edge of challenge to it. “Was that all just an idle boast?”
So, now she knew what all this was about. Grace could never resist a challenge. She snapped on the belt that came with the package, putting the weapon in the holster, and accepted the safety glasses dangling from his hands.
“Give me my satchel,” she said, her eyes cool, her voice just as dangerous as his.
Lance leaned into the car and pulled out her bag. She slung it over her shoulder, and started to trek down the path leading into the woods.
“Hey, Grace,” he called from behind. She turned around and caught what he threw her. “Your compass.”
Grace smiled at her opponent. Going to track and cancel her, was he? “Blue is going to look so good on you, darling,” she drawled and blew him a kiss, as he got into his car and drove off.
She paused long enough to see his mock salute when he passed by. She snapped back one smartly. Then stuck out a tongue after the back of his car. He could track her as hard as he wanted, but she wasn’t the daughter of a Virus for nothing. She would evade him, no problem.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The sun beat down where the trees thinned into a clearing. Grace wiped the sweat dripping off her chin with her sleeve. Squinting, she looked into the cloudless sky that was so blue it hurt her eyes. The color reminded her of another relentless blue that shone out of the face of a certain someone stalking her right now. She sniffed. There was something vaguely familiar about this scenario, but now was not the time to think. She needed to catch her breath, then continue. The incline was a lot steeper than the map had let on; she had fallen and grazed her knee at one point. When she made it to the top, she checked the compass. She could see the rooftop of the lodge to the left. She hoped there was something to drink there. Got to hurry. He wouldn’t be too far behind.
Right behind her, Lance pulled at the blade of grass. The first part was easy. She would be heading east, toward the lodge. If he could catch her at the incline, he would have a clear shot at her while she was climbing uphill. However, she was further than he’d anticipated. By the time he reached the incline, all he saw was disturbed foliage, and a patch of sand where she’d slid off. He followed in pursuit.
Grace cursed under her breath. She’d almost fallen into one of those damned holes about which he’d warned. She looked around her warily, her heart still in her tummy where it landed when her foot went through the pile of dry leaves covering the hole. Everything looked normal, but she knew now there was no way she could make it in a hurry. The holes were like landmines, and if she weren’t too careful, she would be waiting for Lance in one of them. But if she took her time, he would be able to see her on this level patch of land, and, no doubt, would take her out like easy roadkill. Checking around thoroughly, she caught sight of the tree standing alone twenty-five feet away, with a thick rope of vine dangling down like an invitation. Hmmm. She gauged the jump she needed to make to reach the safe ground on the other side. She might just be able to do it. There were two fallen logs lying on each side of her. Obviously, they were on solid ground. But which one was safe for her weight?
Minutes later, Lance bent down and studied the boot print. One of her feet found a hole here and she had braced her weight on her other foot as she went down. Good for her. He grinned at the disturbed area nearby. Here was where she landed on her cute little ass. He looked around, but saw no more clues. His eyes narrowed. There was no way she could run across and not topple into a hole. He caught sight of the scraped wet bark on one of the logs. The little hellcat. So that was how she avoided the holes. Following the log, he jumped close to a lone tree that looked suspicious, set apart from the others as it was. Walking around the huge trunk, he started to laugh softly when he saw the vine. Grace had played Tarzan here and with the help of the vine and her incredible upper body strength, swung out to the pile of rocks there. The ropelike vine resisted his tugs to get it back to him, and he saw, with some consternation, that it was wound several times around another tree trunk on the other side. A reluctant smile of admiration appeared on his lips at her delay tactic. He tested the strength of the vine, wondering whether he should chance walking across the minefield of holes, or be stuck there.
Grace was glad to see the lodge ahead. After almost an hour and a half of hard physical activity, the thirst was getting unbearable. Swinging over with the vine had been tricky, and she was quite proud of her feat. It comforted her parched throat somewhat to know her darling tracker probably cursed up a storm, and thus wasted precious body fluids, when he found out he couldn’t use the same trick, seeing she’d made sure that the rope couldn’t be retrieved.
Smug, but still thirsty, she hurried toward the little cabin.
A good distance away, Lance dangled upside down by his hands and feet over the clearing. It was good he brought along a pair of gloves. Using the vine like a clothesline, he slowly slid across, using his boots to make sure he didn’t slip and fall off. It was slower than swinging over, but better than poking around holes. Sweat dripped into his eyes, then down his chin and under his collar. Ten more feet. Then, he would get her soon.
There was no time to be neat about it. Grace threw open the pantry, grabbing the first bottle of water she saw. Taking big gulps from it, she walked around the tiny shack, looking for things that might aid her. She couldn’t haul along any of the gallon bottles of water. Too heavy. She’d better drink as much as she could. From here, she had two choices, either the path to the left of the lodge, or the one to the right. She remembered from the map that both circled back eventually to another main path ahead, but taking either would still put her at the disadvantage of being chased. Perhaps she could hit him first, play tracker instead of prey. She grinned at the idea. Looking around, she noticed a coiled length of rope hanging on the wall. Unwinding it, she found it long enough for her purpose. From her satchel, she took out her Swiss knife.
Lance was thirsty. So was she, he mused, looking at the opened bottle of water. She’d torn through everything, throwing cans and supplies off the shelves. What was she looking for? Pouring a whole bottle of water over his head to cool off, he went to the window and looked at the two paths, trying to guess which one she took. The one on the left had an empty gallon bottle lying in the middle. His eyes narrowed.
Grace lay on her back, holding her breath. She could hear him moving around in the lodge. Then silence. She bit her lower lip. He was probably looking out the window. Well, he couldn’t possibly miss the big gallon jug she’d put down on the left path. When he took off up that trail, she would just turn over and aim for that arrogant head of his, turning him into a big Smurf. Then she would stand up on the roof and yell, “Game over!”
Lance stared at the bottle. No way she would bring along a gallon of water out there, drink it, then lay it directly in the middle of the path. Did she think him so easily tricked? He walked out the door, and turned to take the other path.
Damn, damn, damn, he was going the other way! There wasn’t enough time for her to make it to the other side of the roof and take a shot at him without him hearing her move. The roof creaked at the slightest shift in her weight as it was. She would have to climb down and take the other path. Oh well, he still couldn’t sneak up on her this way. After counting to twenty, Grace started to climb down from the roof.
Nothing along the trail had been disturbed. Lance knew something wasn’t quite right. There should be more signs of her after five minutes. He stopped, scowling. She went the other way, that tricky little witch; he couldn’t believe he’d fallen for such a simple trick. Pivoting, he doubled back.
Grace checked the compass, knowing she should see another clearing coming up. Then there should be a wall there for her to climb over, and beyond that, Lance’s car. She grinned. Lancelot Mercy, your goose is so cooked.
Lance grunted in disgust as he pulled at the rope dangling on the side of the shack. He couldn’t believe it—she’d been up there all along while he was in the lodge, probably waiting for him to take the path with the bottle so she could shoot him. Dammit, he hadn’t thought about her turning the tables on him. Checking his watch, he saw she had ten minutes on him. He broke off in a dead run down the other path, determined to catch her before she reached the wall.
The wall was eight feet high, not tough for a tall man to handle, but a challenge for Grace’s smaller build. She wished she had the rope with her still, but she hadn’t dared take the time to untie it from the PVC pipe. She knew Lance would know he’d made a mistake within minutes and she wanted to be gone by the time he ran back. Too bad she didn’t have a ladder in her helpful satchel, she joked, as she searched for foot holes and cracks along the wall so she could hoist herself up. She pursed her lips at the sound of a broken fingernail. Lance Mercy was going to pay for destroying her nice new manicure.
Halfway up the wall, she heard the cracking of twigs and dry leaves behind her. She looked over her shoulder and gasped. He was running at top speed, zipping among the trees, mowing right through the bushes. She saw him pull the weapon out of his holster as he ran. Starting to panic, she turned back to fully concentrate on her task, desperately pulling herself to the top of the wall as sweat seemed to squeeze out of every pore in her face.
Lance aimed and fired twice while still running. She disappeared over the wall just as he was about to shoot a third time. Two yellow splashes hit the spot where she had been moments ago. Dammit, he almost had her. He was across the clearing in six leaping strides.
Grace jumped off and landed hard, falling to her knees. She could hear him from the other side of the wall, the crunching sounds of pebbles and rocks as he too climbed. She got up in such a hurry, she almost tripped over a rock.
Lance peered over, saw her turning around and aiming. He ducked, an arm holding on to the wall as he almost fell over. Taking out the weapon again, and with his head still shielded, he fired blindly in her direction, hoping he’d get lucky. There was certain smug satisfaction when he heard her squeal.
Grace clutched at her sleeve, now smeared with yellow. The hit didn’t hurt but had just enough of a sting to it to make one’s adrenaline pump out. The rule was head or heart as target. Oh man, that was close. She fired a shot at him as he pulled himself over the wall and grunted with triumph to see the blue spreading on his shoulder. Knowing he would reach her before she could try another shot, Grace turned and ran for the nearest tree.
Lance jumped off, then rolled quickly, just in case she decided to shoot him again. On his stomach, he trained his weapon at her and got off a shot, just as she went behind a tree. A big splat of blue was on his shoulder. Damn, she was really quite proficient with a weapon.
Grace saw the car at the end of the downhill trek. Ignoring the danger of losing her footing and rolling downhill, she went at full speed, charging toward her target.
He chased after her as she went around a bush, then drove through another, making it difficult for him to get a good shot at her. Finally, the path was clear. His longer strides were gaining ground on her.
Grace was gasping as she sped toward her safety. She could see the futility of reaching it. He would just shoot her in the back of her head and score a ‘cancel.’ Determined to make sure that wouldn’t happen, she turned, went down on one knee, and pulled the trigger again. Lance also fired the weapon at the same time. She got him in the leg; his shot missed, since he was aiming for her head when she knelt down. With her shooting back, he was forced to dive on his stomach to avoid a direct hit. She missed him by inches. She dove forward too, hitting hard on the ground before rolling under the car, using the momentum to move to the other side of the vehicle.
Lance jumped up, weapon ready. Grace was on her feet the same instant, using the car as a shield. They fired, both determined to be the last one standing, triumphantly yelling out.
That was their very last shot.
They were both cancelled, blue paint all over his face, yellow right over her chest. They stood there staring at each other, gasping for breath.
“Are you two lovers?” demanded Lance, in between pants.
Grace leaned her weight against the car, pushing her wet hair out of her face. If she weren’t so out of breath, she would have laughed.
“No,” she gasped out.
He strode around the car and took her into his arms. Grace laid her head on his chest, still breathing hard.
“Did he make you his ghost?” he demanded again. When she shook her head, he tilted up her face by the chin and gave her a long hard kiss that took the life out of her legs. “Want to be mine?” he murmured against her lips.
For answer, she punched him in the stomach and grimly enjoyed his grunt of surprise. “I’m going to kill you,” she told him. He’d been trying to see whether she was good enough for him, damn his dark beastly soul.
“I think we just killed each other,” he retorted, rubbing his face and looking wryly down at the blue in his hand.
“I got you first!”
“Did not!”
“Did too! You broke my nail! You’re so dead!”
Lance lifted her off her feet and swung her around, making her hang on to him.
“Okay, then I’ll be your ghost,” he said, grinning, as he hugged her hard. Now that he was sure about her skills, he wasn’t willing to let her go so easily. Virus-trained evasion expert or not, he would just track after her till she surrendered.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
“She’s been released. She was seen walking out of the building and got in the car with Mercy,” Ed told Sandra over the car phone. “I’ll come by and pick you up for a late dinner.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said. “Give me some time to freshen up.”
It was just beginning to get dark when Sandra reached her house. The streetlights came on, illuminating the cobbled sidewalk that led to her driveway. She was used to coming home late and looked forward to spending time alone away from the office. The moment she closed the door, however, the hair at the nape of her neck stood up. All her past training rushed back, and without hesitation, she turned around quickly and scanned the dim hallway in her house. Not turning on the lights, she stepped out of her heels and sidled to the wall closest to her.
Her body was rusty, but her faculties were still alert enough to tell her someone had been here, might still be here. She slipped her hand into the inside pocket of her jacket, treading softly into her darkened living room. She wished she’d pulled open the shades that morning, so at least the last of the fading daylight might tell her whether the room was empty.
Without a sound, a shadow stood up from her sofa. She nearly didn’t see it, but training had taken over and she was acting solely on instincts. Attacking reflexively, Sandra flicked the tiny weapon in her hand in the direction of the intruder. She heard it whipping through the air, and saw the shadow jump sideways, then disappear. He didn’t make a sound, so she couldn’t tell whether or not she hit her target.
Must be losing my skill. She seldom missed. Something moved to the right of the window and she flicked her wrist again, dispensing another missile, aiming for the heart. This time the whirring sound ended with a thud against the wall, not the unmistakable sound of metal cutting through flesh.
Sandra frowned. She’d missed a second time.
Her other option was to catch her intruder by surprise, so she flipped the main switch on, flooding the room with bright light. He was standing less than ten feet in front of her, and she knew she wouldn’t miss this third time, except she was frozen in shock.
