Conspiracy Game

CHAPTER 17

Briony crouched in the tunnel leading down into the mine. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. How were they finding her? If Ken was right, they would never have sent soldiers against him and Jack. How could Whitney get away with sending soldiers after members of the military? They had no one they could trust.

The tunnel was far darker than the woods, and she sat at the entrance, where she could hurriedly escape back into the mine should someone come, but there was solace in being close to the woods. She occasionally saw a flash of light in the sky and heard the sound of gunfire, but it seemed far away. How were they finding her?

There had to be logic in what Whitney had done. He’d brought her from the orphanage where he found her, and experimented on her, but unlike some of the other girls he’d kept, he’d adopted her out to a loving family. But that was still an experiment. He had wanted to see how she would develop and function in comparison with someone he’d kept. What exactly did one need for an experiment? Briony sat up straighter, her heart beginning to pound, knowing she was on the verge of an important discovery. Her temples throbbed and her stomach twisted. Too many times in her life she’d felt the same stabbing pains, the terrible churning in her stomach, and she’d stopped trying to remember her past. Who did Whitney control and who was he comparing her to? Whitney needed his experiments the way others needed to breathe. There would be someone-another child he’d kept behind, raised without a family, raised in a stark, difficult environment-one he kept.

“Oh God.” Horrified at her own thoughts, she began to rock back and forth, pressing her hands over her stomach. One of the other girls? What would that show Whitney? Only that she reacted differently under duress? Under pain? No-Whitney would need more than that. Why was she chosen to be adopted out? What was special about her that he sent her out when he kept so many others?

She tried to remember, forcing her thoughts back to her childhood before her adopted family. She’d been five-old enough to have memories. Her skull pounded. Blood trickled out of her nose in warning, but shadows moved, eluded her, small wisps. A childish voice. Crying. Begging. Was that her voice? Were there two voices crying? Hard hands tearing her away when she clung… when they clung together.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly chilled to the bone. There were two voices. Pain shot through her head, stabbing deep into her brain, but she wouldn’t let go when she was so close. Blood dripped steadily from her nose and began to leak from her ear. She pressed her palms to her head. It felt like someone was squeezing a vise there, but she pushed through the barrier, the pain-and saw…

Briony choked back a scream, and covered her eyes as if that would block out the knowledge. Two little girls with the same tow heads, blond hair falling around their faces, their dark brown eyes enormous, walking and talking and holding each other until… Briony ran deeper into the mine, bent over, and threw up.

She had a twin sister. Whitney had ripped them apart, buried her memories behind a wall of pain, and sent her out alone while he kept her sister. How could she have let him erase the knowledge she had a sister? All the years that had passed, what had he done to Mari? Marigold. Had he taken her memory as well? Or did her sister know Briony was out there somewhere free, while she remained locked up with a madman and his experiments? Did her sister wait for rescue? Would he be so cruel as to torment her that way? Did her sister wonder every day of her life why Briony didn’t come for her?

Tears streaked her face as Briony staggered back to the entrance of the mine. She remembered bits and pieces only, but she knew she was right, she felt it, the clawing emptiness, just the same as when Whitney had torn them apart all those years ago. There had to be a way to find her. Brionywould find her, but first, she had to find out how Whitney’s men continued to track her. Before she could turn the tables on the doctor, she had to get completely away from him.

Briony’s head came up. Whitney had never really relinquished control over Briony. He had full control of her education and certainly her medical needs. She’d been available to continue with his experiments, even to being given the ability to change her skin color. So if that were the case, he had the ability to plant anything else he deemed necessary-such as a tracking device.

She swore softly under her breath. Of course there had to be a tracking device. He wouldn’t want her getting away from him when she was the future mother of his supersoldiers. When had he planted it? Not when she was a child; it was too many years ago and the technology advanced too fast. He’d want the best, the latest. When was the last time Dr. Sparks had done anything of importance on her? Two years ago she’d been hospitalized on an outpatient basis for surgery. Sparks had his own team there, not the regular hospital staff.

Briony touched her hip. She’d woken up with stitches, and Dr. Sparks had told her they’d found and removed a suspicious lump, and with her super physical abilities they couldn’t be too careful. He hadn’t specifically mentioned cancer, but he’d implied it and her mother had obsessed over every bruise and bump.

Briony ran her finger over the small scar, pressing deep to try to feel if there was anything beneath the skin. Her breath caught in her throat. If she pressed very hard, there were small ridges distinctly against the pad of her finger. Whitney had to have had the device implanted. And that meant that it wouldn’t matter if Jack and Ken held off an entire army as well as hid her in the deepest jungles-she would be found.

Her heart beating wildly, she opened the pack Jack had hastily put together. Weapons as well as a medic’s kit lay on top of her clothes. She pulled the knife from the scabbard and turned it over to inspect the blade. Jack and Ken seemed to have the best of equipment. The knife had a nice balance to it as well as a comfortable grip. She stared at the blade for a few moments, indecision warring with resolve.

Briony touched Jack’s mind, needing reassurance, hoping the danger was past and he could come for her, but his mind was totally occupied with a target. She withdrew from Jack and stared again at the knife. Very slowly she opened a packet of antiseptic and wiped the blade of the knife. She swirled some more over her bare flesh, right above her hip. It was cold and a shiver went down her spine.

She took a deep breath and pressed the tip of the knife against the corner of the small ridged disc in her hip. Her body shuddered and broke out in a sweat as the knife pierced her skin. She dug deeper, feeling her way to find the dimensions of the foreign object. She began to shake, the pain streaking through her, clawing at her stomach, but she was determined to cut the thing out. Once she knew the size, she ran the blade carefully along her skin, creating a flap. It was only about three quarters of an inch, but it seemed like half her hip was involved, with pain radiating down her leg and up her back. Even her stomach hardened. Once cut, she put down the knife and used the tweezers to extract the object, all the while whispering reassurance to the babies, afraid they might be aware.

She had to rest for a moment, breathing deep to keep from getting sick again. It was an awkward place to stitch, and blood was flowing freely, making everything slippery. The medical kit contained several needles, sutures-thankfully-already threaded. She’d practiced field stitching before, but somehow it seemed a lot more painful and difficult than she remembered.

Her hands trembled, which didn’t help, but she bit down hard on her lower lip and forced the needle through her skin. She worked at making tiny stitches as she closed the flap. By the time she was finished, Briony felt sick to her stomach and she leaned back to close her eyes briefly. The scent of her own blood was overwhelming in the small confines of the tunnel. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on stopping the churning in her stomach.

A small sound alerted her, the snapping of a twig. Her eyes flew open, and she caught up the nearest weapon, a rock, flinging it hard, using every bit of strength she had to launch it. Her hand was still bloody and the rock slipped as she threw. Luther’s face darkened with anger as he trapped the rock against his chest where it struck him. He stepped into the entrance of the cave, looming over her.

“If it isn’t the little whore, back with her man. That’s his defective brat in your belly, isn’t it? Not the lion tamer, you lying bitch.” Luther kicked at her.

She rolled over at the last minute, as the toe of his boot drove directly at her stomach. She kept rolling until she ran out of room, trying to scramble to her feet. Luther was too fast, following her, his large body trapping her against the wall of the tunnel. She drew her knees up in an effort to protect the babies, and waited for the next attack. Luther was breathing hard, the rage in his eyes terrible.

Jack! Forget calm. Forget being stoic. Jack, Luther found me!

He answered at once and she could have wept. His voice was utterly calm-completely confident. We’re on our way. Stall him if you can. If not, cooperate, baby. Don’t give him any reason to be pissed off at you.

Good thinking, but a little too late. I’m really afraid he’s going to try to hurt the babies. I don’t know what his deal is, but he seems to think I’ve betrayed him in some way. I’ve got the knife, but I don’t know if I can take him.

Has he seen your weapon? Does he know you have it?

No.

Keep it as a last resort. And, baby, keep your mind open to mine. I might be able to shield you from emotions even from this distance. And I’ll be able to find you if he takes you before I can get there.

“I’m getting really fed up with you, Briony,” Luther said, bending down to stare into her eyes. He wanted her to be afraid of him; she could see it on his face. “You lied about Jack being the father.”

Briony shrank back farther into the shadows, felt the pack behind her, and found the bloody knife still lying on top of it. She leaned against the pack, the knife blade concealed by her body. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so confused. Nothing makes sense anymore.” She kept her tone low, submissive even.

It was the last thing he expected her to say, and he stopped in his tracks, suspicion on his face. Deliberately Briony lifted a shaking hand and wiped at the sweat from her face, smearing blood on her forehead, looking as fragile as possible.

“You found the tracking disc.” His entire demeanor changed. He even sounded proud of her. “I knew you would-and you cut it out of your body. You’re just like… ” Luther broke off abruptly, crouching beside her, removing a canteen. “Here, take a drink. It’s only water. Let me take a look at that.”

“Like my sister?” Briony took the canteen from him and drank, her gaze never leaving his, watching his reaction.

“I knew you’d figure it out. I chose you because you’re tough as nails and our kids are going to be incredible.” His fingers brushed her hip as he examined her handiwork.

Briony bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to stay still and not jerk away from his touch. “Where is she?”

“You’ll see her soon enough. She’s not in very good shape at the moment. Brett has to discipline her often. She’s highly combative.”

“Who is Brett? And why is she combative?”

“She doesn’t want to cooperate with him.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to have that kind of trouble with you.”

“My sister is with someone named Brett? And he disciplines her? See why I’m so confused? I thought Whitney wanted certain pairs to have children together and he made certain they were attracted physically.” She took another drink of water, trying to slow down the inevitable-stall for time.

Luther pulled out his own medical kit and wiped the area around her hip with more antiseptic before applying a topical antibiotic. “We realized it isn’t necessary for the woman to be attracted to the man-only that the man wants her.”

Briony frowned. “That’s ridiculous. Why would she ever agree to have someone’s baby if she isn’t attracted?”

“She doesn’t have to agree. You don’t have to agree. We can force compliance. It isn’t easy if the woman is a fighter-but on the other hand, it’s a good thing, and we all recognize that. If the woman is willing to fight, and she’s tough enough to cut a disc out of her body, she’s definitely someone we want as the mother of our children.” He put gauze over the wound and taped it in place. “That should hold until we get you back to the lab.”

Briony bit back her opinion that he was crazy. “Will I be able to see my sister?”

“If you two want to see each other, you’ll have to do whatever is necessary.”

“You mean have sex with someone we don’t want to be with? Why doesn’t Whitney use in vitro rather than force a woman to be intimate with someone she’s doesn’t want?”

“Because when we have the soldiers we want, no one can say they were genetically engineered. They’ll be human and beyond any outcry or protest.”

“It’s rape,” Briony pointed out.

“Only if you make it rape,” Luther argued, his fingers settling around her wrist to pull her to her feet. “The woman has a choice. We always give her a choice. The easy way or the hard way. Don’t be like your sister.”

The fanaticism on his face sickened her. He believed every word he said. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he was proposing-forcing her to have sexual relations in order to produce a child of superhuman strength and abilities. It made no sense that they wouldn’t use in vitro to produce a child-there had to be other reasons.

She staggered against him as he pulled her from the tunnel into the night. That quick he was on her, whirling her around, slamming her up against the side of the entrance, pressing tight with one hand while he clamped down on her wrist with the other, exposing the knife. He pried it out of her fingers and sent the blade skittering along the ground.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He slapped her face, hard enough to rock her, following it up by pushing her back against the wall again. “I’m already angry with you, so don’t piss me off.”

“Why?” The slap brought involuntary tears to her eyes. “What did I do besides try to get away? You would have tried too.” She tried to think, to keep from panicking. Jack was on the way. Just stall. There would be a moment, one moment when Luther wasn’t paying close attention, and she’d find a way to get away-or kill him.

He inhaled, pressing his face into her neck. “You stink of him. You slept with that killer. That’s all he is-all he knows. He’s no soldier. He doesn’t understand loyalty to the unit. He’s a killer and you’re carrying his baby. You’re going to a doctor before we get you to the lab, and you’re getting rid of it. You’ll tell them you lost the baby. Understand? If you don’t, your life is going to be hell for a very long time. I’m tempted to cut the thing out of you myself, just like you did the tracking disc.”

Briony couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her as his hands wandered over her body. He kissed the side of her neck, bit her shoulder hard, a punishment for her sins. “You were always meant to be mine-never his. Why they wanted his child, I’ll never know, but they aren’t going to get it. I’m not going to be able to wait long for you, but I at least want his stench washed off.”

He was pressed up tight against her, so tight she felt him rock solid, his hands exploring her flesh. The sound of gunfire echoed through the night, off in the distance, and she knew Jack was still far away.

She shouldn’t react. If she showed Luther how much she detested his hands on her, he might beat her and force a miscarriage, but his tongue lapped at her neck and his hands crept up her shirt to grab her breasts, and she couldn’t stop herself.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t want to try it, Briony. You’re tough enough, but in a fight, I’d take you every time. You’re not mean enough. I’ve studied you, every training tape they have of you, every move you have.” His lips traveled up to the lobe of her ear and his hand cupped the weight of her breast.

For one small moment she tried to understand what it was like for him, driven by Whitney’s diabolical mind to pursue her, needing to pursue her because his body made relentless demands. No other woman was going to satisfy him ever. Why couldn’t Luther see he was every bit a victim as she was-as Jack was-her sister and probably Brett? Whitney moved them all around like pieces on a chessboard.

Luther shoved up her shirt and lowered his mouth to her breast, the urgent needs of his body overcoming all reasoning.

Briony stomped down on his foot as hard as she could, kicking back to drive her heel into his knee. She missed the knee, but hit his shin. He grunted in pain, but his hands tightened to try to hold on to her. Bending forward, she caught him around the neck and threw him, using her back to roll him off of her. Luther hung on to her wrist grimly as he sailed over her head, yanking her arm nearly out of its socket as he somersaulted and hit the ground. She fell facedown and tried to roll at the last moment, instinctively protecting the babies.

The air left her lungs in a rush, and she drew up one leg as Luther lunged to pin her. She tried for his crotch, kicking out hard, but he turned enough to take the numbing blow in his thigh. He swore, doubling his fist and smashing it into her face. Briony saw stars, her left eye swelling so fast she lost vision immediately. Closing off all pain, she pushed up as he sat on her, rising to meet him, trying to get his weight off her stomach. Deliberately he shoved his knee into her hip, grinding down on the stitches she’d put there.

“Damn you, I told you not to try to get rough with me. You can’t win. Do you have any idea how much I could hurt you if I used my full strength? That was just me teaching you a little lesson.”

She shoved at his chest, his leg, doubling her fists and beating at him in an effort to get him off of her.

Stay down! Stay down.

Jack’s voice moved through her head, nearly lost in the adrenaline and fear for her children. She hesitated and then dropped back to the ground. Warned by that small uncertainty, Luther threw himself off of her, rolling away as the bullet tore through his shoulder, where his head had been. He kept rolling away from her, into the mine entrance.

Briony scrambled on all fours toward the thicker cover of the woods. Her eye was swollen, keeping her from seeing properly. Hard hands caught at her and she fought, swinging wildly.

“Baby, it’s me. You’re safe. You’re safe now.” Jack enfolded her in his arms, tight against his chest. She could smell his scent, hear his heartbeat. He pulled back to look down at her. “Fuck! Son of a bitch!” He caught her close again and then pushed her toward Ken, turning his head toward the mine, his eyes glacier-cold.

“No!” Briony caught his arm and tried to pull him back to her. “He knows where she is. I have a sister. He knows where she is, Jack.”

Jack didn’t even turn his head to look back at her as he ran toward the mine.

“Jack! Please!”

You jackass. You’re not thinking. Ken launched himself at his brother. You don’t track a wounded bear into his lair, no matter how much he needs killing. He hit Jack low, at the knees, and brought him down as gunfire erupted from the mine.

Get the fuck off me!

You have a foul mouth. Get your head out of your ass, Jack. Briony’s been through enough, and she doesn’t need to see you die because you’re going off half-cocked. Let’s get the hell out of here. We can track the bastard later.

Did you see what that son of a bitch did to her?

I saw. We’ll get him-just not now. She needs you thinking, Jack.

Jack took a breath-reached for calm. Anything to do with Briony seemed to shatter his composure, but the sight of her swelling face and blood soaking through her jeans and shirt on one side… He shoved Ken off of him and crawled through the brush back toward Briony.

Jack gathered her smaller body up against him. “It’s okay, baby, I just lost my mind for a minute. You’re getting a hell of a shiner there.”

“I have a sister, Jack.” It was humiliating, but she couldn’t stop crying. “They have her. They’re holding her somewhere, and Luther said she was being disciplined because she didn’t want Brett touching her. He said it didn’t matter if the woman was attracted-only the man. What kind of people are they?”

“Bastards, baby,” Jack said, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. Although he was infinitely gentle, she winced, and he dropped his hand. “What happened to your side?” He lifted her shirt to see the gauze pad soaked with blood. “What the hell, Briony! Baby, stop crying, you’re killing me.”

“He sat on me. You saw him sit on me. I don’t know if he could have killed them just by sitting on my stomach, Jack. I don’t know enough about babies.”

The tears streaking down her face broke his heart. “I read that unborn babies were in a very protected environment, Briony. They’re fine. They’re safe.”

“He said he was going to cut them out of me. He planned to take me to a clinic to abort them.” A shudder ran through her body, and a fresh wave of tears began.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and dragged her into the protection of his body, looking a little helplessly at his brother. “Nothing is going to happen to them, Briony.” He lifted her shirt again to reveal the wound on her hip.

“We’ve got to move or we’ll be trapped, Jack,” Ken cautioned, watching their back trail. “We aren’t going to fool them for long. They’ll know we left, and they’ll come running. And Luther or one of the other enhanced soldiers is bound to be telepathic. He’s pinned down in the mine, but the others will be running to cut us off.”

Jack lowered her shirt with a slight frown and tucked her beneath his shoulder. The two men began to jog with her in between them, through the woods away from the house and away from the mine. Briony pressed her hand to her side to try to still the constant throbbing.

“What happened?” Jack repeated.

“The doctor planted a tracking device in my hip. I cut it out so they couldn’t follow us.”

Jack glared at her. “You did what?”

“Jack,” Ken cautioned.

“What would you have done?” she demanded. He couldn’t yell at her, or she was going to be sick all over him. Her eye throbbed with every step she took, shooting pain through her head, and her stomach kept lurching uncomfortably. She was worried about the babies with Luther sitting on them, in spite of the assurances Jack had given her. “Do we know where we’re going?”

“We’re heading for the pass. We’ll take the canyon route. It looks like a dead end and we can draw them in,” Ken explained. “They’ll think we’re trapped, but we have our own way through the pass.”

“The sun’s up and we’ll need a good start on them,” Jack added. “We should stop and fix your hip and eye. There’s a grove just ahead that has a nice slope to it. We’ll be a little safer there. You’ll need to drink water. If you get tired and need to rest, don’t be stupid-say so.”

“They’re going to hit us with everything they’ve got once we’re in the canyon. You know they still have a helicopter, and they’re going to be using it to track us as well. We have to stay in the trees as much as possible.” Ken took the lead as the trail narrowed. “Watch the low branches, Briony.”

“They’ll be able to see where we go, Jack,” Briony said fearfully.

“We always expected a helicopter,” Jack assured Briony. “We can deal with it. The shrubbery is going to start getting dense. If you need to slow down, we can. The helicopter can’t get in here.”

“We’re leaving tracks,” Briony pointed out.

“We want them coming after us, baby,” Jack said. “No worries. We have an escape route. Ken, did you call in reinforcements?”

Ken shook his head. “Thought about it, but we don’t know, other than our team, who we can trust. If I contact our commander, the admiral, and he’s in on this, we’re screwed.”

Jack glanced down at Briony, assessing the strain on her face. She’d been through quite a bit, and they still had several miles up a steep mountainside to go. She flashed him a wan grin.

“I’m good, Jack. I want to put distance between them and us.”

She didn’t look good to him, and if he took her to a hospital-which he intended to do to check the babies-he was bound to be arrested for domestic violence. She looked as if she’d been in a war. He slowed the pace over several ground-eating strides. Ken glanced sharply at him then looked at Briony’s bent head and kept his mouth shut, but he began to drop back where he could protect his brother and Briony should one of the enhanced soldiers come up on them from behind.

Briony ran for another mile, uphill, her lungs burning and her side cramping. Blood trickled down her hip in a steady stream, and she supported her stomach with one hand. Fear was uppermost in her mind, fear that she would slow Jack and Ken down and they wouldn’t be able to escape the men following them. The helicopter had retreated for a little over an hour to get fuel she presumed, but was back, flying low along the trees in search of them.

Bile rose continually, and she tried desperately to suppress it, but eventually she had no choice. Tears blurring her vision, she halted and bent over, stomach heaving. “Morning sickness. I didn’t eat anything. Sorry.”

Jack’s rifle went to his shoulder and he watched the surrounding trees. Ken kept his back to her, doing the same, their bodies still while their eyes were restless. The next hour passed with a similar pattern. Briony ran as long as she was able before vomiting, the twins running with her and both instantly protecting her while she was sick. She caught the glint of humor in Jack’s mind and glanced suspiciously at his face and then at Ken. Both looked grim, but she wasn’t buying it.

“You’re laughing,” she accused.

“It’s either laugh or cry, baby.” Jack glanced at her. “You have to admit, the situation is different from what we normally do. We should have thought to bring you some crackers.”

“You probably would have thought of it too.” Briony groused, stopping once again to bend over.

Jack knocked into her sideways, sending her flying. She hit the ground hard and lay still while bullets rained down around them. Ken calmly knelt down and sited in on the helicopter, taking his time to locate his target. Jack did the same. There was no wild shooting. It was obvious they believed in making every shot count. Ken fired first, and the man at the machine gun disappeared into the interior of the helicopter, knocked back by the bullet. The second soldier with an automatic crumbled straight to the floor, falling half-in and half-out of the copter.

The pilot veered off quickly, heading out over the canopy of trees to get away from the sharpshooters.

Jack helped Briony to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I need to rest.”

He glanced at his brother. Ken shook his head.

Jack handed her the canteen. “We can rest in a few minutes, in a place with more cover. Can you make it a few more miles, baby? We’ll slow down and take a few minutes along the way, but we need to get into dense cover. If you don’t think you can, we’ll find a place to make a stand.”

“I’m just worried.” Briony rubbed her hand over her stomach. “I don’t want to lose them.”

Jack placed his hand over hers. “We’re not losing the babies, Briony. They’re tough, just like we are. They’ll hang in there and trust us to get them to safety.”

She touched his face, a light brush of her fingertips, but Jack felt it all the way to his toes. His stomach knotted and his heart did some sort of curious melting thing he didn’t want to identify too closely. He glanced at his brother helplessly.

Damn it, Ken. I’m so fucking in love with her. This isn’t part of Whitney’s experiment; he couldn’t make me feel like this no matter what he planted between us.

I could have told you that. You’ve got it bad, bro. She’s going to wrap you around her little finger, and you’re going to make a bigger jackass of yourself than normal.

Jack sent Ken a repressing glare, but it didn’t stop the grin spreading across his twin’s face. “Let’s go. The helicopter is circling back.”

Briony nodded and fell into step beside him. Jack still pushed their speed, but he’d slowed it enough that she could keep up, forcing one foot in front of the other, counting her steps to keep her mind away from the pain flashing through her side and head.

Sporadic shooting left them in no doubt they were being followed, but the twins’ confidence never wavered. They moved through the forest as if it were their backyard, taking narrow animal trails, once walking behind a small waterfall. They climbed up boulders and sprinted over bare ground back into the protective canopy of the trees.

By late afternoon, Briony’s legs felt rubbery. She didn’t even try to think anymore, clinging only to the fact that they had to get away and their enemies seemed tenacious.

Jack slowed and came to a halt right on the edge of what appeared to be open meadow. Up ahead she could see a canyon, the sides steep, a ravine sloping down into thick brush, and the mountain rising with sheer walls on three sides.

“Jack, we can’t cross in the open, and if we do go in there, how can we get out?”

He pulled off his pack and switched weapons. “This is the canyon I told you about. We’ll make it out.”

“Even if we could climb those walls, they have a helicopter,” she protested.

“Have a little faith, baby,” Jack said. “Rest for a few minutes. When we run across the meadow, you’re going to be running full out, so be ready. Once we’re in the canyon, no one’s going to see us, the brush is too thick. We’ll be able to stop and sleep for a while. We’ll be climbing up to the pass at night.”

Briony studied the sheer cliffs rising above the canyon. They didn’t look like anything she wanted to climb, but both Jack and Ken seemed certain. Her mouth went dry just looking at the distance. Even with enhanced speed, the helicopter could be on her in seconds.

Jack caught her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “You have any sight at all in that eye?”

“No. It’s too swollen.” She didn’t want to do this. Jack was looking at her as if he had complete faith that she could sprint across the meadow in the face of the enemy, but she was tired, sick, and-truthfully-scared to death.

“I need you to do this, baby. Look at me. Look me in the eyes.” When she complied, he traced her soft cheek with his thumb. “I would never let anything happen to you. You came to me believing I’d protect you, and I will.”

The helicopter circled above them, a hovering menace she couldn’t ignore. She wanted to scream that it was different, that this time he was asking her to bet her life-the lives of her children-but she knew she’d been doing that all along. She had to make a decision and put herself fully in his hands. Briony took a deep breath and nodded. “I can run. You tell me where, and one eye is all I need.”

“That’s my girl.” He bent down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Tell me when, Briony.”

He gave her confidence. And he made her feel safe. She rested her head against his chest, just leaned against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do to another human being-something she couldn’t do with her own mother. There was no flash of pain, no distress at all, just a feeling of tranquility in the midst of chaos. The throbbing in her face lessened, as did the pain in her side.

Jack wrapped his arms around her, rifle and all, holding her close to him. He brushed several kisses into her hair. “We’ll get out of this.”

“I’m sure we will.” Briony pressed close to him, absorbing his strength and confidence. “Tell me where I’m supposed to run.”

“You go straight across the meadow to that log on the far side, the one close to the straggly tree surrounded by boulders. You see the log I’m talking about?”

She nodded. It looked a long way from them. The meadow was a wide expanse of grasses, flowers, and rocks, and seemed endless. With the helicopter circling overhead, she wasn’t certain just how Jack thought they’d make it into the canyon.

“Slide under the log, you’ll disappear from view into the scrub. We’ve got a trail there. You can start down the trail. We’ll be right behind you.” Jack caught her chin and tilted her head up to his. “Trust me, baby. I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You just swear you both will be right behind me.”

Jack kissed her mouth, gently. Tenderly. Wondering how the hell he’d managed to find her. “We’ll be right behind you,” he assured. He looked at his brother.

Jack and Ken stepped out of the trees, rifles to their shoulders, Ken’s aimed at the helicopter, Jack’s toward something in the meadow. They fired simultaneously. The helicopter lurched, and in the meadow a canister exploded, sending black smoke rising into the air. They fired a second time, and a second canister sent clouds of smoke billowing and spreading out. Ken’s shot sent the helicopter into a spin.

“Go, Briony,” Jack instructed. “Run, but don’t breathe in. I’ll be right with you.”

She took off like a jackrabbit, bursting out of the trees into the safety of the smoke.