Rogue Soldier. Dana Marton
the two men inside, Tessa tied up on the floor in the corner. She had a dark bruise on her face. And just like that, his plan of not doing more damage than necessary to her captors was forgotten.
The man standing in the doorway didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence.
Mike crushed the guy’s windpipe with one well-aimed strike a split second before the other man went for his gun and he had to jump him. He brought the guy down, shoved his index finger behind the trigger to make sure the weapon couldn’t be discharged. He didn’t want the others coming back in a hurry.
“Who the hell are you?” The man was gasping for air, his voice hoarse but recognizably American.
At least one of the four outside was a local boy, too. A joint operation? None of it made any sense. The man pulled a knife from somewhere with his free hand, but Mike finally got a good grip on the guy’s head and heaved. The neck broke with a small pop, like cracking knuckles.
He paused to listen for anyone coming from outside, then a second later he was pulling the rags out of Tessa’s mouth. She swallowed, ran her tongue over her dry lips, pushing her bound hands toward him.
“I should have gotten here sooner, honey. Are you all right?” He crushed her to his chest for a heart-stopping moment. She was alive. He hadn’t been too late. She was alive.
He set her away to look at her and free her from the ropes. They had to get out of here fast.
“You bastard,” was the first thing she said to him, her voice as hard as her eyes.
He stared at her for a second, a little hurt by the obvious anger on her face. Hell, she wasn’t still mad at him, was she?
“Good to see you, too, hon. If I get these ropes off, you’re not gonna hit me, are you?” He was cutting as he spoke. They didn’t have any time to waste.
Tessa didn’t seem to realize that. The second her hands were free, she socked him in the jaw with full force.
He teetered back. “Damn. What was that for?”
But she was already collecting the two rifles from the dead men and shrugging into a parka. Then she was out the door.
The woman moved fast.
He rushed after her, scanning the woods, but saw no sign of the men. They were probably searching for him farther in the forest. With a little luck, they’d keep at it for a while.
He caught up with Tessa by the pair of sleds—one metal, one wood—two crates on each. He figured explosives, from what he’d seen in that report. The dogs were harnessed and ready to go, jumping and yipping as they greeted her, but she silenced them quickly. She got on the metal sled, and he went to cut the leather harness on the other.
What the hell?
Her dogs were moving, leaning into the work. The sled broke loose of its snow bed with a jerk then slid forward smoothly. She meant to leave without him.
He had to run to jump on. “Come on, you can’t still be mad at me.” He shoved off one of the crates to make room for himself, and almost tipped the sled, sending the dogs into momentary disarray.
“Haa!” She snapped the whip above the animals’ heads, her ice-blue eyes locked onto his face.
She looked exactly as he’d remembered her—magnificent with her generous lips and all that red hair escaping from her hood. The sight of her was like a sharp elbow in the chest.
Damn, he should have looked her up sooner.
“I went past mad a couple of years back, McNair. I’d just as soon shoot you as look at you.”
She wasn’t kidding. The fierce emotion on her face would have knocked a lesser man on his ass. Where had that come from? He hung on as the dogs picked up speed.
“Could we—” The rapid gunfire coming from the woods cut him off.
She tossed him one of the rifles. “Make yourself useful.”
He did, spraying the edge of the forest. A moment of silence passed before response came.
They were out in the open, no place to take cover, and if he was correct, they were sharing the sled with some serious explosives—a hell of a target. He moved to shove the second crate off, then stopped. They were going pretty fast now. If he tipped the sled, if the dogs got tangled—if they slowed at all—they were as good as dead.
They would only have to make it the next few hundred feet to be out of range. If the men were stupid enough to leave the cover of the woods and come after them, he could pick them off one by one.
“Haa!” Tessa urged the dogs faster, and they gave her everything they had as if sensing the humans’ desperation.
Bullets sprayed the snow around them, sending up powdery puffs of white. Just a little more. He did his best to get the men, but it was hard to take out people he couldn’t see. All he could do was aim in the general direction where he figured the men were hiding behind trees and snowdrifts.
Then he glimpsed one who stepped out too far, and took aim, squeezing off a round at the same time as the man. Mike watched him fold slowly onto the snow as he heard a loud yelp from one of the dogs and the sled jerked sharply, the huskies slowing and tangling the line.
Which dog? He was in the snow on his feet, ignoring the bullets that kept coming. It was the black female husky with the light stripe across her shoulders—red spread on her hind leg, staining the snow.
He grabbed the dog and sliced the leather that bound her to the harness, picked her up and jumped on the sled with her on his lap.
“Haa!” Tessa yelled to the rest, straightening the line.
The dogs listened to her and picked up speed again.
“That’s Sasha. How’s she doing?”
The dog yipped at him as he probed around the wound. “Easy, girl. I’m going to take care of you. Nothing to worry about.” He talked to her in a soothing voice, petting her, allowing her time to get used to his scent. “Went clear through,” he said to Tessa. At least they didn’t have to worry about the bullet.
He let the dog lick the wound for a few seconds before he pushed her head away and slid his scarf off his neck to use as a bandage. He barely got it tied when the dog bent to pull it off.
“Sasha.” Tessa’s voice was firm.
The dog stopped pulling at the scarf, but was now trying to squirm out of his hold and get off the sled.
“Stay,” Tessa said.
And Sasha finally lay her head on his lap with a pitiful whine of protest. Man, he felt bad for her. That bullet had been meant for him.
“Take it easy, girl. You’ll be fine.” He scratched her behind the ear.
The sled flew over the snow. They were out of firing range, but the men were still shooting, wasting bullets. He pressed his palm against Sasha’s wound, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding.
“How bad?” Tessa asked.
“She’ll live if we don’t run into any more trouble and can get help soon.”
Tessa nodded and kept a good pace, calling to the dogs to spur them on, ignoring him for the next couple of miles.
“Where is your base camp?” She switched to a lower pace once the huskies tired.
“I don’t have one.”
“Your supplies?”
He shook his head, annoyed that he was embarrassed. He had tracked her down in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, rescued her from a group of terrorists. How in hell did she manage to make him feel as if that were insufficient?
“So you came to get me because you didn’t want to starve and freeze alone?” She flashed him a look of contempt