Chapter 16

Kirk drew his legs up and rested his arms over his knees, staring out into the darkness around him. It was nearly two in the morning and he’d been staring at the two morons from the FBI for hours. They’d done nothing but watch Trevor and Chloe’s cabin through a pair of binoculars the entire night. In fact, that was all they had been doing for the past four days.

“Amateurs,” he muttered in a near whisper of breath so as not to be heard. If you wanted to know something about the occupants of a dwelling, you didn’t sit out in the trees and stare at the house like a blind fool.

If he were watching the cabin, he’d wait until he was certain the place was unoccupied and then slip inside. Put a few listening devices in place, some cameras, look around and see what he could find while he was in there. And if he couldn’t get inside … well fake package delivery had always worked real well for him in the past for a quick look through the door. It would at least tell you who was inside the building.

He knew for a fact that the FBI had done none of those. For two reasons. One, he swept the cabin every day for listening devices and checked for cameras. And two, Slate would rip anyone to shreds if they tried to get into the cabin and he didn’t want them in there. He smirked, made number one kind of a moot point, but he did it anyway.

As he watched, the man stood and stretched, handed the binoculars off to the woman, before disappearing into the tent they had set up in their tiny camp in the stand of trees behind where they sat watching the cabin.

He leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes momentarily. As boring as this was, it was better than sitting in his own cabin staring at the ceiling pretending that he was actually trying to sleep. Pretending that he was normal, fine, and not slipping off into a seriously dark place.

The sound of movement came from behind him and slightly to the right. Slowly, he let his legs slide down, getting in a better position to move if it became necessary to do so. Too late, he realized that he should have been paying attention to the FBI agents rather than thinking about his own stupid dark thoughts that were inside his head.

The barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. “Seems we have ourselves a little problem, don’t we Mr. Maher?”

“Not unless you plan on pulling that trigger,” he answered the agent. Obviously, the b*****d had a back way out of that little tent of theirs. Something he could have checked if he’d taken the time to get a closer look at their camp, but he hadn’t.

The agent chuckled. “Why don’t you just toss your rifle into the bushes, it might make me a little less likely to get an itchy trigger finger.”

Kirk could kill the man just as easily without the rifle as with it. He tossed the rifle away, holding his hands up away from his body for the agent to see. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Put your hands up on the back of your head and interlace your fingers.”

S**t. He knew where this was headed. He moved his hands slowly toward the back of his head. “Can we talk about this?”

The barrel of the gun pressed a little tighter against his temple. “Don’t be stupid here Mr. Maher.”

Kirk cursed his lack of attention, his stupidity, and placed his hands behind his head. Cursed again as he felt the cold metal of the cuffs being slapped around his wrists. “Seriously man? This is ridiculous!”

“Yeah, well I’ve read your file; Mr. Maher and I don’t find it in least ridiculous. I’d rather live than have you follow me and put a bullet in my back. Now … how do I get past the dog?”

“F**k you!” Kirk spat at him.

“You’re not my type in the least. How do I get past the dog?” he repeated.

“You think I’m going to tell you how to get in there so you can hurt my family? You are one delusional SOB.”

“They aren’t your family. Trevor Madison isn’t related to you.”

“Treacy Maher is, so I repeat: F**K. YOU.”

“Have it your way Mr. Maher, but if I have to shoot the dog, that is on your head.” He swung his arm and the butt of the gun smashed into Kirk’s temple.

He fought against the engulfing darkness, tried to keep it at bay, but the b*****d had one hell of a swing and the darkness won out over consciousness. He slumped to the forest floor, his last sight was of the FBI agent slipping off through the trees and disappearing into the night. His last thought, the b*****d must have been a frickin’ sniper because he moved like one.

 

Durn moved closer to the cabin, as he did, he shrugged into Kirk Maher’s jacket that he’d found sitting on the ground near the man. He hoped the damn dog would he fooled by the smell. Fooled at least long enough for him to get inside the cabin and find out if Chloe was inside.

The closer he got to the cabin the more his nerves tightened, the jumpier he became. Every sound had him turning, his gun raised to fire. Sneaking up on Kirk Maher had scratched his nerves raw. The older Maher brother had one hell of a reputation as a crack shot, with ears that could hear a frickin’ mouse fart from across the desert. He’d expected the man to whip around any second and put a bullet between his eyes. Somehow, he’d managed to sneak up on the man.

Maybe there was such a thing as miracles or maybe it was simply his lucky night.

Durn was going with luck as he stepped foot on the front porch of the cabin and the dog had yet to bark. He sent one last glance around the forest before reaching out and grabbing the doorknob. Locked.

Well what had he expected? That they were trusting souls who left their doors unlocked. He holstered his weapon, pulled out his lock picks instead, and set to work. It took him only a matter of minutes to get the door open. Not exactly, standard procedure for the FBI, but his dad hadn’t been FBI.

He slipped through the door, shutting it behind him, and turning to face the looming darkness inside the cabin. A low growl earned his attention. Crap. So much for fooling the dog. He slipped the jacket off and held it out in front of him as he moved across the room. As his eyes adjusted, he found the shape of the dog where it stood in the entry to the hallway that led back to the bedroom. 

He circled the couch, coming around so that there was nothing between him and the big dog. It growled again, low in its throat. Lip curled back from its teeth. It stalked forward, pacing toward him across the room.

Durn swallowed hard, suddenly realizing he had no real plan for this. He looked around frantically as the dog got closer. Backing away, he headed back for the front door, eyes sweeping the room. A grin suddenly split his features and he focused on the dog.

“That’s right you big mutt, come and get me. You want your buddy’s jacket? Come on, come on, a little closer.” He spared one glance to see how close he was. Reached back for the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open.

He looked at the dog again. “That’s right boy, come one. Now … fetch!” He tossed the jacket into the coat closet beside the front door, the dog leaped after it and he slammed the door shut behind the dog. “S**t, no lock.”

So much for luck, he thought grimly as the dog threw its big body against the door. Putting one foot against the door, he reached out as far as he could and snagged a nearby chair, shoving it beneath the doorknob.

He dusted off his hands. “Not bad.” Now for the real work. He pulled his gun and headed for the bedroom. Working his way down the hallway slowly and quietly. The bedroom door was slightly ajar; the dog had probably pushed his way out when he’d heard the front door open.

Durn slipped carefully into the room and stopped as soon as he took in the sight before him. He wanted to curse. Until the second he’d entered the room, he didn’t know how much he’d been hoping that the woman inside the cabin wasn’t the woman Brooks had identified as Chloe.

Even in the shimmering moonlight coming in through the cabin window, he could tell it was her, he didn’t need to pull up the picture Brooks had sent to his phone. He dragged a hand down over his face. There was a war waging inside of him. Did he honestly want to drag her out of that bed and use her against the man beside her? He cursed Brooks silently.

What choice did he have in the matter? If he didn’t follow orders, his career was over. His life was over. He knew Brooks; he could make things very difficult for him all the way around. He wouldn’t even be able to get a job at f*****g McDonalds if he crossed the man.

Pain ripped through his chest. He didn’t want to do this. Something inside him told him it was the wrong thing, the wrong choice. Still, he found himself rounding the side of the bed where Chloe slept, reaching out, and pulling her from the comfort of her lover’s arms.

She twisted in his grasp, her arms flailed, legs kicked, and she tried to scream out and warn Trevor. Durn clamped a hand over her mouth, his wrapped the other around her waist, somehow managing to pin her arms at her sides at the same time. “Shhhh, keep still.”

She went rigid. Her breathing ragged. He could feel her fear as it clawed through her.

“Good girl. Now we’re going to wake Trevor nice and easy. You stay quiet or I shoot him. Understand?”

A whimper escaped her despite his hand covering her mouth. “Do you understand me, Chloe?” She gave a tiny nod.

He released her mouth and pulled his gun, aiming it at Trevor Madison. “Mr. Madison I suggest you stop feigning sleep, you wouldn’t want me to have to do anything unpleasant now would you?”

Durn watched as Trevor sat up slowly, his hands raised and empty.

“You have the wrong man. My name is Treacy Maher,” he insisted.

Durn sighed. “Explain your lady friend here. I have a picture that Agent Brooks sent me and she looks exactly like the young woman in the picture.”

“I can’t explain that, just as I can’t explain why I look like that man that you’re looking for. Look, it’s just some strange coincidence, okay?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences and neither does my boss. Now you’re both going to come with me. Let’s go.” He gestured toward the door.

“Mind if I at least put on a pair of pants first?” Trevor asked.

Durn grimaced. “Yeah, I do not want your naked a*s on my leather seats.”

Trevor chuckled at him. “As much as that picture would make me laugh, I’m not naked, but I’d rather not show up for a meeting with your boss in my boxers, thanks anyway.”

Durn kept his gun trained on Chloe in case Madison got any bright ideas. But the man very calmly got dressed, grabbed a set of clothes for the woman, and headed for the door, his hands held in the air. 

“All right honey let’s go, follow your man nice and slow, and don’t get any ideas about trying to save your butt.”

He didn’t think the woman had a single idea in her head at the moment, however. Her eyes seemed to be fixed straight ahead on Trevor Madison’s back as if he were her single motivation for moving forward. He saw Madison’s single moment of hesitation as he passed the front hall closet and heard the dog inside, before he pulled open the front door and passed outside.

“Where do you want me to go?” Madison asked him.

“Left, through the trees.” He moved up closer and indicated the path he wanted him to take. He suddenly wished he’d brought a second pair of cuffs with so that he could cuff Madison, he didn’t trust the man not to make a move and try to get away. “Don’t try anything stupid, I can still shoot her.”

“I’m not stupid,” he replied, though there was an underlying deadly quality to the statement Durn didn’t want to delve into too deeply. “Where’s Kirk?”

“He’s fine. I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Smart move. Doubt you’d want Snaf coming after you.” Again, he heard the underlying deadly message behind the words. Durn had no doubt that Madison would come after him as well had he killed Kirk Maher. If he were given the chance, that is.

Not for the first time, he wondered why exactly Brooks wanted Trevor Madison. He’d read the all to brief file on the man and what he’d read was boring as hell. The kid had been raised by doting parents who pampered him and hovered over him. According to that short report, Trevor Madison had never worked a day in his life; he was soft and lived a life of leisure.

The man Durn was currently leading through the forest wasn’t at all soft. He was all hard packed muscle and he emanated an aura of danger, this man would kill to protect what was his.

There were too many inconsistency between the two men that were bothering Durn and he didn’t like it. The coincidences, however in their appearances couldn’t be ignored nor could the fact that they both traveled with a woman of the same description. It was nearly impossible to separate Trevor Madison from Treacy Maher, yet they did appear to be two separate men.

Durn called out to Sands as he approached the camp and she popped out of the trees all smiles. “Nice job Durn. How in the hell did you get in the cabin?”

“Not now Sands get your a*s over here and cuff him!” he snapped out at her more than a little worried that she’d distract his attention and Madison would try something. He kept his gun trained on Chloe while Sands rushed forward and put handcuffs on Trevor.

“Where in the hell are your cuffs at?” she grumbled.

“I had to use them on Kirk Maher. He was watching our camp idiot.” Sometimes Sands was damned dense.

She stopped what she was doing and stared at him. “He was?”

He gestured in the general direction of where he’d left Maher. “Yes, over there.”

“Damn and you let me go off into the trees over there to take a piss earlier. What the hell Durn?”

He kept the smile to himself and shrugged. “You were in the trees Sands, he couldn’t see you.”

“How in the hell did you know he was there?”

“A sniper knows a sniper,” he answered flatly, before turning away from her and leading Chloe through the camp so he could fetch a spare set of cuffs and call in the backup with the SUV. He wanted to get the hell out of here and back to D.C., get this damn nightmare assignment over with so that he didn’t have to try and figure out what Brooks was thinking all of the time.

Most of all he didn’t want to try and decipher anything having to do with Trevor Madison. Everything about the man was giving him a goddamned headache.