There wasn’t a sound.
Killian continued to listen intently, when a branch snapped to his left and slid sideways. Keeping his footsteps soft and his tread gentle, he stayed in the underbrush. It had recently rained, which helped keep the dry crackling underbrush from snapping under his feet. He moved another step over and then another. He stopped and listened, his ears strained for the smallest sound. Up ahead he heard the kidnapper yelling and shouting, sounding very pissed off. If that guy got his hands on her, she would regret it.
A man stood on the outskirts and wandered ever-so-slightly around.
Killian knew this was somebody heavily involved; Killian just didn’t know why. Could Max have a man on the second kidnapper? Was this the man Killian had put the tracker on? He stood up. Only by Killian’s raw instincts and the man’s actions had Killian’s attention been attracted to him in the first place.
His actions were suspicious before, but now they were even more so. Maybe the kidnapper had a partner, and this guy was backup. In which case, maybe he was waiting farther up for the woman to climb out of this mess, and he would take her himself. Or this was just part of the second kidnapping deal.
Killian didn’t know, but he had to find her first, before either one of these guys did. He had great natural nighttime vision, but he still had to see something, at least a shadow that moved. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness around him, as he surveyed the shadows, looking for anything up ahead that stuck out a little bit too far. His gaze was slowly but surely searching the darkness around him, when he heard a slight cough, behind him. And then another slight muffled tone.
He swore at that because it was loud enough that it would bring everybody in her direction. He quickly backed up until she was a little closer, and then he heard footsteps, coming in his direction. Knowing he had no time, he quickly raced around to where she was, seeing the form of her, hiding flat against a tree.
He bent down, slapped a hand across her mouth, picked her up, and, without giving her a chance to argue, shifted a good ten meters to the side.
As soon as he stopped, he whispered against her ear, “I’m here to help. I need you to stay silent.” In the darkness, he saw the whites of her eyes rolling in terror. He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m part of a US Special Ops team. Stay still and quiet.”
She nodded, and he released his hand on her mouth. She took a long slow deep breath and released it with her mouth open, which he hardly approved of, but it was the only way to get that air out without it becoming a harsh gasp that everybody heard.
He twisted his head. More sounds approached, coming from where he had been. He twisted a little bit more, looking around for a place to perch. He found it up just ahead, and he carried her as he made his way over ever-so-quietly and, in a sudden movement, lifted her to a branch up above. She sat perched up there, hanging on to the tree trunk, staring at him in shock. He used his fingers to tell her to circle around, so she could hug the tree trunk, as he faced the woods behind them.
He stopped then and waited, looking for anything that would tell him when the attack would come. He wasn’t armed, which was something he planned to change as soon as he could. An odd sound came off to the side. He listened, not sure if this was the second man.
Then came a birdcall.
But it wasn’t his, not one he knew. But it was enough that the second man nearby straightened ever-so-slightly, whispered again under his breath, but it sounded like another swear word, and then backtracked his way out. Killian didn’t know what the hell was going on, but something was, and too many people were involved for him to be comfortable. He waited long enough to be sure that the two men he was aware of were backing out, but he still hadn’t heard a vehicle, and he needed to know that they were done and gone.
He pulled out his phone and quickly sent Hatch a text.
Hatch responded. I disabled the car.
At that, Killian groaned because then he couldn’t hear if they’d left or not. He waited for Hatch to add more, and, when he didn’t, he asked, See anyone?
No sign of anyone. I think they’ve gone.
We need to see them go.
Killian stayed where he was for another twenty minutes, not moving, not doing anything but waiting.
Then he heard a rustle in the brush up ahead, somebody swearing in the darkness, as one of the men got up from his hiding spot and steadily moved out toward the road again. When the man got to the vehicle, the swearing increased, as he tried to start the car. He slammed the doors and fast-walked toward the center of town. And that suited Killian just fine. Checking his phone for the tracker, he noted the other man had headed back toward town as well, at least as far as the disabled car. So either the tracked guy was working in tandem with the kidnapper or he was keeping track of this second kidnapper.
At that, Hatch sent him a message. All clear.
Killian shifted and looked back up at the woman, still hugging the tree. In a low voice he said, “Hi, my name is Killian.”
She looked down at him and whispered, “I’m Stacey.”
“Got yourself in a spot of trouble, I understand.”
“Double trouble actually,” she said, her gaze huge. “After I escaped from the first kidnapping, a man, who should have helped me, kidnapped me instead.”
At that, he stopped and stared. “What?”
She motioned toward the car. “I was on the ferry and slipped out of the back of a vehicle, away from the first kidnappers,” she said. “Then this guy saw me and knocked me out. Instead of helping me, he saw an opportunity to make a buck and held me hostage himself.”
“Nice guy,” he muttered.
She whispered, “Are you alone out here?”
“No,” he said. “I have a partner.”
“Good,” she said. “I don’t know what my kidnapper might do.”
“Well, somebody else is out here. That’s for sure,” he said. “I just don’t know who they are, whose side they are on, and whether they’re working together or if one is after the other.”
“I would be totally okay if the latter was the case,” she said.
“Well, you’re safe now.” He watched as she hesitated and just stared at him. “What?”
“May I see your ID?” she asked, as if grabbing her courage.
He looked at her in approval. “Good thing you asked,” he said. “But it’s hardly something I carry around with me.” But, with inspiration, he held up his pointer finger, typed in Jerricho’s name and number into his phone, and called him. When he answered, Killian said, “I’ve got you on speaker. Jerricho, I have your kidnap victim here, but I don’t have any ID on me to prove who I am.”
Jerricho answered and said, “Stacey, we were sent by your father.”
“It’s easy enough to say that,” she said, her voice tremulous. “I’ve been to hell and back, kidnapped twice now. I am not up for a third time.”
Jerricho said, “Hold on. I’ll patch you through to your dad.”
There was a series of clicks, and she looked down at Killian and asked, “Can he do that?”
“Hell yes,” he said.
Another voice came on the phone, older, almost shaky. “Stacey?”
“Dad,” she cried out.
“Are you okay?” He paused. “I asked these men to help because I don’t have any connections anymore, and they have more than either of us could ever imagine.”