The Novel Free

Echoes at Dawn





“Are you all right?” he whispered.



“Fine. You?” Her voice sounded strained and he knew it had to have hurt her when he shoved her to the ground.



“I’m great, thanks to you. How the hell did you do that?”



“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just reacted.”



“Well, you saved both our asses,” Rio said grimly. “Let’s get moving. They’ll have our location pegged now.”



He very nearly grasped her splinted arm. It was easy to forget just how injured she was when she was keeping up his grueling pace and saving his ass in the process.



“How much farther?” she asked.



Her tone suggested just how much she hated asking, and he also sensed just how close she was to her limit.



He retrieved the GPS that he’d been consulting and studied the path they were taking. His lips pressed into a thin line and he stared into the night.



“We have to keep moving. We’re making better time than I counted on, which is good. If we can keep this pace, we should meet up with my team at dawn. If we slow or you can’t make it, we’ll have to bed down, wait for daylight and hope to hell we don’t have to engage.”



He could feel the quiet despair emanating from her. It was like watching a balloon deflate. But then she squared her shoulders, her chin came up a



nd she chambered another bullet before setting the safety on the pistol once more.



“Let’s go,” she said in a quiet, firm voice.



CHAPTER 6



ONE foot in front of the other. Block the pain. Focus.



Over and over, Grace repeated the same instructions to herself. She’d long since lost count of the many times she’d stumbled and righted herself, determined not to slow Rio. By now she was performing by rote, and only sheer grit was keeping her upright and moving forward.



She played this ridiculous game with herself. Each time they topped a rise, she told herself she only had to get over the next one. Finally she stopped pretending at all and she clenched her jaw and blanked her mind to everything but taking that next step.



She retreated deep inside herself, where there was no pain, no exhaustion and no fear. Only the knowledge that if she stopped, she died. They died. And this man was risking everything because of a promise he’d made to her sister. She wouldn’t let him die because she was too weak to keep moving.



Finally Rio stopped, pulled out another handheld device and studied it a moment before raising his head to stare into the distance. Her knees locked. Cramps rippled through her calves. Rio started forward and her finger slid from the belt loop that she’d clung to for the last few hours.



He pulled up and turned, coming back to her instantly. He put his hands on her shoulders and tilted her face to look into her eyes.



“Grace?”



She made a grab for his arms just as her knees buckled. She would have fallen hard if he hadn’t held her up. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as cramps knotted viciously, spreading into her feet and toes. Both legs were one gigantic cramp.



“I can’t,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Go on without me. Please.”



“Tell me what’s wrong,” Rio demanded.



“Cramps. Oh God, they’re everywhere.”



He eased her down onto the ground and then took both her legs, bending them at the knees and putting both her feet against his legs. He pushed forward, stretching her calves. Warm hands massaged and rubbed, easing the tense muscles.



At his side, he fumbled for a canteen and handed it down to her. “Drink,” he ordered. “You’re not hydrated enough. I should have had you drinking all along. Stupid of me not to have seen this coming.”



She drank thirstily, but the longer he stood there, open, exposed and vulnerable as he massaged the cramps from her legs, the more she panicked.



“You can’t stay here like this,” she said desperately. “Go, Rio. You can’t be far. Go find your team. Leave me here and come back.”



“Bullshit,” he said tersely. “You go where I go. I’m not leaving you so shut up.”



Even the words so rudely said slid over her like the best kind of comfort. His tone told her that she was safe with him and that he’d die before leaving her. Even as she knew it was what he should do, she was relieved that he had no intention of doing so.



He retrieved the canteen and then bent down to grip her free hand. “On your feet, Grace. Get off your ass and let’s get moving. You can do this. Put the pain behind you, just like you’ve been doing. We have an hour at most until dawn. Don’t quit on me now.”



His words should have infuriated her. She should have dissolved into tears and refused. She should have rolled over and given up. She did none of those things. The harsh resolve in his tone didn’t fool her for a moment. There was worry and respect in his eyes, and she knew in that instant that if she didn’t get up, he would simply pick her up and carry her the rest of the way.



She wrapped her hand around his and allowed him to haul her to her feet. Her legs screamed. More cramps rippled down her calves, paralyzing her feet. The strips binding the splint on her broken arm had unraveled and one of the sticks slipped out. The sudden mobility sent pain streaking through her wrist and into her fingers, but she ignored it, ripped away the rest of the splint and tossed it aside.



Later, she’d never know how she made it that last hour. She didn’t remember trekking through the aspen forest or forging a cold stream that went as high as her thighs at one point. She only remembered when she realized that the sky had lightened in the east and that dawn was imminent.



Dawn had become her talisman. The end goal.



The sky was a soft lavender and the morning star shone like a ten-carat diamond against velvet. The trees took shape around her and she could make out the terrain.



She’d survived the night.



She staggered along, tripping and then righting herself before Rio could reach back. It had become important to her not to distract him. He slowed and it irritated her because she knew it was for her he had decreased his pace.



Not now. Not when they were so close. She could taste it. Could feel the sweetness of freedom and safety. Rio had promised to take her away. He’d promised he’d keep her safe. For that, she could fly.



She pushed at him, trying to force him to walk faster, but he halted and slowly turned, his hands framing her arms. His eyes were gentle, his touch even more so.



“It’s okay now, Grace,” he said softly. “We’ve made it. My men are here.”



She stared dumbly at him for a long moment, not comprehending what he’d said. Then she saw movement over his shoulder, Khis as saw Terrence step from behind an aspen. And then the others. The one named Diego and she couldn’t bring to mind the names of the others.



As they neared, it was as if the last of her mental defenses crumbled. Pain screamed through her body, making her gasp as the full shock of it hit her with ferocity



she was unprepared for.



She heard Rio bite out a curse as her knees buckled. She went down hard, blackness wrapping itself around her like a warm, welcoming blanket.



CHAPTER 7



“SHE’S a mess,” Diego said grimly. “I’ve reset her arm. Her respirations are shallow and her breath sounds aren’t good over her right lung. She’s dehydrated, run down, and there’s no way in hell she’s going to make it off this mountain unless we carry her. She’s done.”



“I can’t believe she made it this far,” Terrence muttered.



The two men hunched over Grace as she lay on the ground. Diego had given her a thorough examination and his face said it all. She was in a bad way.



“I don’t know how the hell she’s survived,” Diego said as he rose. “She’s a walking corpse.”



Rio scowled fiercely at his medic and third in command. He didn’t want to hear anything derogatory about Grace. She had more resilience and fight in her than most of the men he’d served with in his years in black ops. His money would be on her any damn day of the week.



“What are our transport options?” Rio demanded.



“I commandeered an old Chevy work truck,” Terrence said.



Rio blew out his breath. “That’s it?”



Diego shrugged. “We’ve had worse.”



Yeah, they had. Only they hadn’t been carrying a woman who was more dead than alive. A woman who needed gentleness and caring, not a bumpy-ass ride down switchbacks in the bed of a farm truck.



“I can make a bed in the back,” Browning offered. “It won’t be the Ritz, but it’ll do.”



“How the fuck would you know anything about the Ritz?” Alton grumbled. “Fucking pretty boy.”



Browning snorted. “You’ve got me mixed up with Diego here. He’s Mr. Suave and shit.”



Rio held up his hands. “We’ve left bodies all over this goddamn mountain. We’ve got to pony up and get the hell out of here. I’m going to try and raise Sam again.”



Terrence slapped his hand to his pocket as if remembering something. “You have a message from Steele. Must be important. It came in code.”



Rio frowned and reached for the handheld unit Terrence pulled from his pocket. He punched in his access code and scanned the tersely worded message.



Resnick involved. Watch your six. Don’t know extent. Don’t trust him. Unsure of KGI status with him. Took Shea. Has history with both Peterson sisters.



Jesus H. Christ. If this didn’t complicate matters. Steele was a cryptic bastard on his best day. What the hell was Rio supposed to do with this?



Rio wasn’t one to give his trust to anyone. He respected Sam and the other Kellys. He wouldn’t work for them unless there was a level of trust there. But he never went so far as to make himself vulnerable to anyone. KGI included.



Now, if Steele’s message was interpreted correctly, Steele was effectively giving the other Nhis snyoteam leader a heads-up that all may not be well within the KGI ranks and that Resnick was a snake in the grass.



It didn’t change that Rio still had to contact Sam, but it made him a whole lot more leery of handing over information on a woman helpless to defend herself.



He’d already decided his course of action anyway, and it didn’t include hauling Grace back to Tennessee. Especially now that Steele had warned him. His gut had already given him a heads-up, and now he knew it was legit.



“Let’s roll,” Rio said in a grim voice. “Where’s this chariot you arranged for us, T?”



Terrence’s teeth flashed and he tossed his head to the west. “Quarter mile. Stashed in an aspen grove.”



Rio knelt beside Grace and put his hand on her cheek. She didn’t even stir. His gaze moved down her body, taking in her tattered clothing, the mix of blood and bruises, the makeshift splint on her bruised and swollen arm.



“One more time, Grace,” Rio whispered. “One more trip. We’ll get you out of here. I swear it.”



“She needs to remain as flat as possible,” Diego said. “I’m worried she’s already punctured a lung. I don’t like her color and I don’t like her respirations. They’re becoming more labored all the time. If we aren’t careful, we could end up doing her more harm.”



“If we don’t move her, she’s going to be dead,” Rio said bluntly.



Diego nodded his acknowledgment.



They didn’t have time to secure her as they’d done before to Rio’s back. They didn’t have time to do anything more than hoist her up and hope for the best.



Rio waved off his men. He was taking responsibility for Grace. It was he who’d promised her he’d get her out of this alive. It was he who’d pushed her, bullied her and demanded that she give what she couldn’t spare. He alone would carry her.



As gently as possible, he slid his arms underneath her body and lifted, rising to his full height, bearing her weight with him. He cradled her against his chest and then fixed his gaze on Terrence.



“I’m depending on you to get us out of here.”



Terrence nodded and then motioned for the men to take position around Rio and Grace. Guns up and ready, they moved as one, taking a fast clip in the direction of the waiting truck.



The sun had just peeked over the horizon, a burnt orange glow lighting a pink sky, when they reached the grove of aspens where the truck was parked.



Rio grimaced. Terrence hadn’t lied when he said it was a work truck. But as long as it got them the hell down the road, it would do.



As they neared the vehicle, movement caught Rio’s attention. He dropped like a rock, instinctively positioning himself over Grace. His men reacted, forming a barrier between Rio and the potential danger.



“Don’t shoot. I have business with Rio.”



The words reached Rio’s ears, and every hair on his nape prickled with apprehension. He eased Grace onto the ground and then jerked a thumb at Diego. Diego dropped to hover over Grace while Rio rose, his gun up, pointed at the man in the distance.
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