Page 37 of Raven's Hunt
That she’d weighed the time versus the risk and plotted out the best solution that would adhere to the time restrictions without putting them in the crosshairs.
He scanned the tree line, that voice in his head warning him that he could lose her if he wasn’t vigilant. A stray shot, a tripwire — one momentary slip on his part, and Tierney could pay the ultimate price.
Not on his watch.
He’d promised her he wouldn’t let Pike hurt her, and he’d take that promise to the grave. Give his last breath if that’s what it took.
Tierney veered right, took a branching, overgrown switchback across the ravine, then back, the dense tree stands slowly giving way to more exposed rock, the surface dotted with moss. The fog thickened, the air cooling by several degrees as they descended into the basin, the hint of birdsong and crickets replaced by the deafening roar of a mountain river somewhere up ahead.
Buck checked his watch — twenty-one minutes left, and if he’d judged the distance correctly, they were only halfway there.
Tierney glanced back at him, either sensing his unrest or just checking in, before picking up the pace, pounding through the mud and the gravel as brush tugged at their pants, the patchwork of vines trying to catch their boots. Her measured breathing matched his, each exhale creating a visible mist around her face.
The makeshift road narrowed, funneling between two massive, granite outcrops before turning left, disappearing into the fog. Tierney slowed, head on a swivel, her Sig sweeping the track.
The hairs on his neck prickled, something about the way the forest went quiet, how one side of the road opened to the river raging up ahead, scratched at the part of him that saw the world differently — that reduced most situations to obscure patterns which manifested before he fully processed them.
He closed the gap between them, still wrestling with the voices screaming in his head, when a faint snap launched him into action. He took two lunging steps, wrapped Tierney in his arms, then took them both to the ground, rolling behind some larger rocks just as the bark behind them exploded, the crack of the rifle sounding a heartbeat later.
Buck levered up, laid down a line of suppressed fire across the ridge a few hundred yards out on the other side of the river, then helped Tierney to her feet. They slid down the muddy incline, diving behind a massive fallen cedar halfway down the embankment just as another round punched into the log, spraying bark and moss into the air.
Tierney returned a couple trigger pulls, shaking her head as more shots chewed across the shoreline. “That was a second shooter.”
Buck nodded, stealing a quick peek before a bullet snapped off one of the dead branches next to his shoulder. “Two nesting in that thicket on the south end of the ridge. And I bet my ass they’ve been there since we started.”
“Which means, our targets might not be wandering like the other two.”
“Shit. That bridge.”
She rolled, crawled over to the end of the log, scanning the bank beneath them. Her breath hissed out, her muscles tensing as her fist white knuckled around a stubby branch. “That son of a bitch.”
Buck shifted, joined her at the far end. “How bad?”
She motioned down the ravine. “Somewhere between royally and epically.”
Buck inched out, keeping the angle tight enough the snipers couldn’t get off a kill shot. Thirty meters beneath them, water crashed over boulders in a stunning display of white foam and swirling eddies as it churned beneath the rusted remnants of the old logging bridge. But it wasn’t the broken ties that drew his attention. Their next two victims had been strapped to the massive support beams rising out of the surface, the water surging up to their chests, the occasional rogue wave rolling over their heads.
He grabbed his rifle, placed the scope against his eye. “Their collars look different. Thicker, with at least two LEDs.”
“I’m not worried about you disarming them. It’s the fact you’ll be half-submerged in freezing water, getting pelted with sniper fire while you’re doing it.”
“I’m not seeing any other option.” Buck checked his watch. “We’re down to ten minutes. And you said it yourself. Pike doesn’t play by the rules. With how he’s manipulating the game — having his clients use the hostages as bait — I don’t want to risk moving them until I know they’re not wired. In case he’s rigged those collars to blow another way.”
Tierney bit at her bottom lip, staring at the bridge, then back to him. “Tell me what you need.”
“That’s my girl.”
Her lips quirked, and he made a mental note to say it again.
He slung his rifle over his back, grabbed the two smoke grenades he’d clipped on his vest, then met her gaze. “I need you to buy me forty seconds to get into the water. Keep them pinned down while I’m disarming the charges.” He leaned closer. “But more than anything, I need you to not get shot.”
Tierney laughed. “No promises on that last one. But you’ll get however long you need, just… Don’t die.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
She snorted, readied her rifle, then nodded.
Buck cracked the two canisters, then tossed them in opposite directions. Smoke billowed out the ends, the thick gray vapor swirling with the heavy fog, reducing the visibility to zero. Tierney popped up, lit the far ridge line on fire with a steady stream of brass as he scrambled to his feet, half-running, half-sliding his way down the rest of the embankment.
