Chapter Seven
The pilot was dead. The rotors were mangled and broken, and the nose of the helicopter had been forced into the cab. The pilot had managed to extricate himself from the twisted metal, but had made it only to the edge of the clearing where he’d taken shelter on the far side of a wide spreading tree. “Might have been worried it would blow,” Hudson said, draping the man’s jacket over his face.
The thought had occurred to Mia as well, and she sniffed the air. She thought she could pick up a slight chemical smell under the driving rain, and Neville had gotten a snoot-full when he was sniffing the ground around the helicopter and sneezed explosively for the next minute and a half. “That danger has passed, right?”
Hudson nodded, head down over the pilot’s identification. “Pretty much. As long as we don’t cause a spark, we’re fine.”
“Sparks. Right.”
He glanced up at her and gave her a slight smile. “The rain helps.”
“Sure.” The rain had been “helping” them for hours now. Any benefit they’d garnered from their time in the way hut was long gone. She was soaked to the skin and she made a squelching noise with every step she took.
Hudson patted his pocket and got to his feet. “Okay, let’s see if we can get to the cargo.”
“Without making a spark.”
“Exactly.”
They did a circuit of the downed aircraft and then Hudson stepped cautiously into the cockpit through the same gashed metal opening the pilot had used to get out.
“Be careful.” The words were out before Mia gave them any thought.
Hudson’s only response was an absentminded nod as he looked for places to put his hands and feet. He’d borrowed a pair of gloves from Mia to avoid leaving prints, but her hands were half the size of his and the gloves had formed his hands into knitted paws. He ducked and twisted, but couldn’t work his way between the jammed-together seats in the cockpit. He backed out and started to circle the helicopter again.
Mia swallowed. Hudson was huge. She was small. It made sense for her to be the one to go in.
She held out her hand. “Give me the gloves.”
He peeled them off and handed them to her. “You sure? No one said anything about there being a co-pilot or other passengers, but…”
Hudson’s hands had stretched out the gloves and they bagged over her hands. She shrugged. “I’ll take the chance.” If she found anyone, she’d just have to pretend they were a moose or bear. Wildlife biology was not casualty-free, and she’d learnt how to deal with that over the years. A human corpse wasn’t really that different, just more…people-shaped.
She’d hesitated at the cockpit and Hudson put a light hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to. I can find another way in—or make one.”
She gave herself a few seconds of comfort, leaning back into his warm, soggy bulk. Nev bumped his head up under her hand and she found a smile for him. She straightened. “No sparks, remember?”
Hudson steadied her for the first awkward steps, and then she was in. She ignored the dark splotches among the mangled metal. It was just fluids from the equipment, nothing to worry about. The space in the cockpit was tight and the seats canted together at the top, like drunken movie goers, but they held when she tested them and she was able to twist herself over the headrests. There was a screeching, groaning noise as she landed behind the seats and the helicopter tilted farther toward the ground.
“Mia!”
“I’m fine!” she called back. She sniffed the air. No change, no indications she was about to evaporate into a fireball that would set the whole mountain alight. She braced her feet at an unnatural angle where the floor met the sides of the helicopter and made her way farther back. Anything not bolted down had shifted during the crash, and each footstep involved carefully working her foot under the layer of debris.
She wasn’t careful enough. A brick covered in layers of tape scooted out from beneath her like a frog in mud as soon as she transferred her weight. She tried to pull her forward foot back, but her balance was off-centre and her feet were too far apart. She gave in to gravity and fell gracelessly into a split. Her sigh of relief when her foot came up against a solid object was so gusty she fell another inch before she stopped sliding for good. She managed to get her hands under her, and in a feat of gymnastics worthy of repetition in a bedroom somewhere, swung her far leg forward so she could scoot herself from bum to knees.
She whistled softly. There must be kilos of the stuff. This whole far section of the helicopter was a mess of barely restrained bricks. A thick netting of web corralled most of it, but the structure was designed to secure the load to the floor, not suspend it from the hull, so the lower edge bulged and Mia could see where the combined weight of the bricks was forcing those at the bottom through the small gap.
“Mia?” Hudson must have followed the sounds of her progress through the body of the helicopter. She could see flashes from his lamp through a small port window nearly above her head.
“I found it, Hudson. There’s a ton in here.”
“Can we get it out?” Good question. Their instructions from Dipshit and Sidekick had been to bring the cargo off the mountain. They hadn’t given any instructions on how to get it out of the helicopter.
Mia eyed the window again. The sliding door in front of it was crumpled in and the matching one on the other side was pressed against the ground. The window was really the only possibility. “I’m going to try and kick that window out.”
She aimed her headlamp at the surrounding area and decided she could use the netting as a ladder. She crawled forward, then used the bottom edge to pull herself upright. Packages slid loose, but she was able to work her foot into a square and start to climb. More parcels worked their way free, but the anchors held and Mia was soon as far up as she could go.
She reached left and tried to pound on the window, but it didn’t give. She leaned back from her perch, feeling a bit like a monkey in a tree, and reached for a metal bar running the length of the cargo area. She tested it gingerly and it held her weight with no give. She hung suspended, one hand clenched around the bar, the other wrapped in cargo netting. She’d probably only have one shot at it, but if she transferred all her weight to the bar, she could probably get in a good swing and use both feet to kick through the window.
“Stand back!” she yelled.
“What?”
She heard Hudson’s voice the same time as she made the move to the bar. She didn’t bother to answer, just sucked in her breath, hauled in on her core muscles, and flipped her legs back, then folded at the waist to drive them forward with all the force she could muster. She hit the window dead centre and her right foot continued out into space while her left slid up onto the hull of the helicopter, then bounced back. Mia’s hands were wrenched free and she fell awkwardly into the pile of bricks below.
“Mia?”
She lay still for a second, taking inventory. Her right leg was burning from where it had scraped along the edge of the window frame, but apart from that and a few new bruises, she was fine. The packaged drugs had enough give to cushion her fall. And more importantly, the window was now pivoting from its centre point in the frame. She’d done it.
“All good,” she responded.
Mia swung herself up again, more quickly this time, and booted the window out of the frame. She stood among the piles of bricked up drugs and called out, “How do you want to do this? Are we really going to try and bring all of it down?”
“Toss me a pack, will you?”
She picked up one of the bundles and sent it easily through the space in the fuselage.
“How many are there?”
Mia stripped out of her jacket. The confined space was warming quickly and her skin was growing slick and hot under the waterproof material. “Got to be a hundred at least.”
There was a pause, and then Hudson’s voice again. “How does Nev feel about pulling cargo?”
Nev would be in heaven. “Like he was born to it.” She took stock of the material around her. “We can use the cargo net to strap together a travois. You see any likely branches out there?”
Hudson’s low chuckle made her own mouth curve up in response. Too bad he couldn’t see to count this one.
“You start tossing. I’ll start gathering. Skip any that have broken packaging. The ground should be soft enough to keep any more from splitting.”
“Okie-doke. Heads up!” She started pitching the bundles through the window frame and settled into a rhythm of scooping and tossing in one smooth motion as she stooped and straightened, stooped and straightened. She was down to the last few tangled in the cargo netting when her aim faltered and a package caught on the edge of the frame. The taping came apart and smaller packages cascaded down on her.
“You all right? Cover your nose and mouth if there’s any powder floating.”
“No powder. Just baggies.”
She snagged a handful of the packets up from the floor and shone her lamp down. The sweat on her skin suddenly turned to ice and the air in her lungs thickened to the consistency of porridge. She stared at the stamp on the package and her mind superimposed the image on a smooth, tanned arm, as sleek with muscle as its owner was with charm.
This was one of Abe’s tattoos, she was absolutely sure of it.
The strength dissolved from her legs and she sank to a heap on the littered floor of the helicopter in the middle of nowhere. She looked at the stamp on the package again and had to press her hand against her mouth to stifle the howl she felt building in her chest. She’d done everything he said, the best she could, and had finally felt safe enough to take a job near the protest site. And now she’d not only aligned herself with the undercover cop trying to take down Abe’s trafficking operation, but she’d actually given his goons the very name he knew her best by.
The facts, so fresh in her mind from her recent recounting to Hudson, fell into place with a series of solid mental clicks. That really had been Pete’s bracelet in that package. He was dead. And the others probably were as well. Abe the enviro-terrorist might have thought it was enough to have people hiding and scared of him, but however he’d become involved in this level of drug trafficking, the stakes had obviously been raised.
As had the threat those witnesses posed. Dead was better than scared.
She doubled over, trying to hide, even as she felt a flare of relief she’d sent her mother away. Mom. She had to think of her mom.
“Mia? Any more coming?”
She rose jerkily to her feet, like an automaton with bad programming, and pushed the tears away from her eyes as she bent for more bricks. She sent them out to Hudson and kicked through the scattered baggies to start un-rigging the cargo netting that would form the support for the travois Neville would pull down the mountain. She’d have to bundle this together somehow and take it with her, back through the cockpit. And before she got outside, she’d have to have a plan in place to get away from Abe.
And that meant getting away from Hudson. Fast.
#
The rain eased as they left the clearing and they made good time. Neville enjoyed being put to work just as much as Mia had said he would. Hudson picked up the trailing end of the cargo stretcher if the ground was rocky, or particularly steep, but for the most part, the large dog was happy to tow the illicit cargo behind him. It made sense, he supposed. If Nev wasn’t pure wolf, he was at least part husky or malamute, and the arctic dogs were bred for hauling sleds behind them.
The terrain smoothed as they reached the lower slope, and Hudson lowered his end of the travois and tossed the strap he’d been holding onto the bundled drugs. Nev turned his head and woofed softly before picking up speed downhill, tail wagging madly. Hudson laughed. Apparently he’d been holding the dog back.
“So,” he said, coming up beside Mia, “you traffic drugs here often?”
She jumped and stared at him with wide eyes, and he realized she’d been a million miles away. And his joke had been in spectacularly bad taste. He leaned over to give her shoulder a squeeze and she twitched out of reach. “Easy, Mia. What’s wrong?”
“Well, as you just pointed out, we’re dragging a dog load of drugs down a mountainside. There’s a slight potential for disaster.” She tried for a smile, but it wavered and dropped. “Neville wouldn’t like doggy prison. He hates being locked up.”
Hudson scoffed. “Nev’s not going to prison, Mia. Have you forgotten you’re hanging with a cop? I’ve got the pilot’s ID, I’ve got the helicopter registration, and I’ve got the drugs. Should be all I need to shut Cain down and put him away for a very long time.” He moved closer to her again, waiting for her to scoot to the other side of the barely-there trail, but she held fast and he picked up her hand. “And after all the warrants are served, I’ll be on leave until my next assignment. Will you let me help you?”
Her hand spasmed in his and her head turned so fast he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash. “You’d do that?”
Why was she so surprised? Did he think after everything they’d been through over the past few days, and those spectacular hours in the hut, he’d just shake her hand and walk away?
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Of course I would. No one should have to go through what you’ve been through these past few years, Mia. You made some bad decisions, but you weren’t the evil mastermind here and the court will understand that. And guys like Abe don’t just suddenly give up the evil and settle down to a life of bad TV and snack food. He shouldn’t be that hard to track down. I’ll bring you in with me when I’ve wrapped the case; you can give your statement and Abe will go away for murder. You’ll have your life back. Never have to look over your shoulder again—unless it’s to look at me.”
He winked and smiled at her, hoping to ease the fear that seemed to have settled over her like a shroud. Her head pulled back, and she dropped her eyes and moved away.
What now? Oh damn. She was right. He’d done it again. Hauled out the charm instead of trusting her to trust him. “Mia.”
She shook her head, and he thought he could read disgust in the way she folded her arms over her chest, hands clutching the opposite elbows. He slowed his stride to let her pull ahead. He’d been an ass. He’d turned her life upside down and practically inside out in less than forty-eight hours, and through it all, he’d only been interested in what she could do for him. She’d found him the drugs, let him use her dog to get them down the mountain, and with the adrenalin wearing off she must just want to get as far away from Raj and Gio as possible. And here he’d been thinking of taking leave, spending his days helping to get this Abe character off her back for good and his nights replaying their time on that rock-hard bed in the hut.
His mind raced, trying to work out just how fast he could get his handler working on finding Abe in the system. The death of the pipeline employee had been major news and only a couple of towns over, so the file should be easy to track down. Mia was terrified of this Abe guy, but he was probably a pathetic loser who concentrated on victimizing the weak. Hudson would have no trouble keeping Mia safe until trial.
He watched Neville come to a stop below him. He was looking at Mia with absolute adoration, and Hudson knew anyone trying to get to her would have to go through all one hundred and forty pounds of Neville first. The expression on the dog’s face made him smile, and the fact he could see Nev’s expression made him realize they were nearing the end of this bizarre journey. Daylight.
He switched off his lamp and pulled the head strap off. He closed his eyes and scrubbed his fingers through his hair until he could feel the breeze tugging at the ends. Mia was looking up at him— past him— and he turned to the most amazing sunrise he’d ever seen in his life. He started loping down the trail, seized by the sudden urge to have his arm around Mia as he looked at the sight. But when he came out of the final bend, she was already on the move again, hand resting on Neville’s head as they headed into the thickening woods that indicated they were coming close to the road.
Was he crazy? Did he really think he had a chance to make a life with Mia? Like she was going to sit on her hands and wait for him to come back after an assignment, only to take off again after a few weeks? He kicked at the rocks in his path. He knew better. He’d watched what that life had done to his mother and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, let alone Mia. No. He’d help her get the monkey off her back, wish her well, and then mosey off into the sunset just like they used to do in the movies, when the woman realized some men were not the settling kind.
“I think we’re going to have to take over from Neville now.” Mia had already started to untie the complicated mess of knots she’d used to secure the cargo netting to Nev’s pack. Hudson looked ahead at the narrow passage between trees.
“You’re right.” He picked up the end of the travois and brought it close to Nev’s tail to increase the slack in the netting. It dropped free and Nev suddenly bounded forward, energized to be released from the weight. Mia unclipped his pack and he immediately flopped to the ground and started to roll, groaning ecstatically. He stopped on his back and let his tongue loll out, then tipped his head back to look at Mia.
She laughed softly. “Go on, then. But stay close.” The dog was back on his feet and off like a shot, sprinting and dodging through the trees like a rogue pinball.
Hudson stopped rearranging the load on the stretcher to watch the dog. He could feel a reciprocal urge building under his skin. He wanted to strip away the layers of soggy clothes and the heavy boots and run after the dog. And keep running. Let all the cover identities fall away and just keep moving until he ended up on a beach somewhere with a cool ocean to swim in, a lounge chair next to him for Mia, and an air-conditioned room to keep the heavy-coated Neville cool in the heat of the day.
The urge was strong. It lifted the hair on his arms and brought his heels off the ground, like a sprinter in the blocks. He thought he could even smell the ocean. He turned to ask Mia what she thought about taking a vacation when all this was over.
There were tears in her eyes.
He was there in an instant and she came willingly into his arms, pressing her body tight to his. “Mia? What’s wrong?”
She pulled back and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I need to tell you something.”
#
She didn’t get the chance. A massive boom of thunder followed almost immediately by a flash of lightning rocked them both off their feet and pressed the air from her lungs.
Hudson recovered first and got to his hands and knees, then rose to a squat, tugging her arm. The wind had risen into a shocking wail and she could barely hear him over it. “We need to stay low—find a ditch!”
She pulled away and rose to full height, sprinting to where she’d last seen Neville’s tail flicking between the trees. Hudson lifted her from behind and she kicked out at his shins, but he only tightened his hold and carried her to a dip in the ground near the edge of the tree line. The wind threw branches and pebbles at them and she put her hands up to cover her face, then tugged her hood out to provide some cover to Hudson’s face as well. He dropped her into the shallow depression and pressed on her shoulder when she tried to get back out.
“I’ll get him.” He didn’t give her time to respond, just turned and staggered into the trees.
Nev would hide. She should have told Hudson. He was a smart dog, and brave, but he knew to take shelter when he didn’t understand what was going on. He might come to her voice, but she wasn’t sure if Hudson would have the same pull.
She stood again and wiggled her toe into the side of the small bank to get a foothold, but a furious gust of wind sent her backward with her first step and her knee twisted painfully. She lifted herself again, but her knee throbbed when she shifted her weight and she let herself sink back, pounding the ground in frustration. More debris ripped past her head and she started looking for better shelter. She knew, without a doubt, that Hudson would do his best to find Nev, and worrying about it wouldn’t speed things up.
She squinted into the wind and saw the dark-bellied clouds overhead and realized they were directly under a thunderstorm. It would be over as quickly as it started. Lightning was a concern, but the greater danger was being clocked by flying debris.
Hudson had dropped her into a shallow trench in the earth that stretched along the tree line. If she was very, very lucky, she could follow the depression right into the shorter trees. The larger trees surrounding them would attract the lightening and hopefully, keep them safe. She glanced back toward the cargo netted drug haul, but decided it could stay where it was. Not even the thugs could argue if Mother Nature decided to trash their drugs.
She tried to move forward in a waddling crouch, but the wind kept catching at her upper body, sending her off balance. She switched to a crawl. Her sore knee got sorer, and her palms were aching within a minutes from the rocky ground. Lightning illuminated the sky again and she dropped low, blinking furiously to rid herself of the bright spots in her vision. The wind was lower here and she tucked herself into a squatting ball with her arms over her head.
Just breathe. Just for a minute.
Her heart steadied. She found a rhythm in the gusts.
She waited, then popped up to full height and staggered into the trees. She felt the boom of thunder in her chest and immediately resumed her squatting position and held her breath. The lightning strike was close by. Her hair lifted in response to the charge in the air, and the scent of flame rode on the next gust of wind. She didn’t look for the fire. The mountain was drenched from days of heavy rains. Even with the wild wind trying to feed a spark’s growth, the overall dampness should keep it at bay.
The wind whipped by her and she folded herself into it, keeping her head down and eyes slitted against the grit in the air. Wait. There was something. She lifted her head, ignoring the buffeting sting and listened. Yes. It had to be them.
She cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her shout. “Neville! This way, Nev! This way!”
Mia held her breath and cocked her head. She could swear she heard a yip, but with the wind distorting everything, she couldn’t be sure. She tucked herself into a small stand of trees and braced her back against one. She was just lifting her hands to her mouth again when she saw a low, fast blur rocketing toward her. Despite bracing herself, the sapling behind her still swayed with the impact of Neville’s arrival. He pressed himself into her, shaking like the wind was inside him.
She slid down the trunk of the tree and the dog curled into her. There was no sign of Hudson. “Where’d the big guy go, Nev? Is he behind you?”
She heard his yelp even over the thunder. He worked his nose past the edge of her jacket and buried his head in her armpit, and she closed her eyes and ducked her head as the lightening lit up the sky. She wrapped her arms around Neville and whispered nonsense into his ear. They’d been out in storms before, but never directly beneath one, and never one quite this ferocious.
The lightning came again, the thunder right on top of it, and Nev pulled his head out of her jacket and howled. His head tilted on his neck until his back made one elegant line from the ground to the tip of his nose. Mia could feel the sound building in the strong hollow of his chest, and again he howled.
In the next moment of calm, Hudson stumbled out of the trees. His jacket was pulled high to protect his head, blood slicked one of his hands and his lips were pressed tight, but he was there and he was safe. Neville’s tail was beating a frantic tattoo on Mia’s leg and the dog bounded the last few feet to the cop to lead him back to their fragile shelter.
“I know, buddy, I know. I heard you and I came. I’m here, Nev, settle down.”
Mia used their reunion to twist out of her pack. She pulled an emergency blanket from the bottom and unfolded it with a snap. The wind nearly tore it from her grasp and she hauled it over her head, then lifted quickly so she came down on the edge of it. The free side flapped frantically, until Neville grabbed it in his mouth at her command. She motioned for Hudson to pass her his pack, and rooted in the side pocket for the length of cord she always kept there. She split the cord in two, passed one piece to Hudson, and tied her own into the other corner.
After tying the cord to separate saplings and moving shoulder to shoulder with Hudson, they had a flimsy shelter that covered their backs and heads and would at least stop them from getting any wetter and keep the grit out of their faces. Neville’s rapid panting slowed and he propped his head on Hudson’s foot. Even tucked around him, his tail caught the wind and he tried to curl himself tighter into the two humans until sleep overtook him like a knockout drug.
“You’re bleeding.” Mia picked up Hudson’s hand.
His head lifted from where it was resting against the sapling, and he opened his eyes. “I didn’t even notice.” His voice was rough, exhausted. He dropped his head to look at it and the blanket drooped with him. He squeezed her hand briefly and tilted his head back again. “Just a scratch.”
She shook her head. “Even so.”
She fished out the first aid kit and cleaned and bandaged his hand. He didn’t move, not even when she swabbed the scrape with disinfectant. It was more than a scratch—his hand had taken a heavy impact at one point and the skin was split. It would continue to swell without ice and there was a possibility of a crack in one of the many fine bones that ridged the back of his hand. It rested heavy and inert on her thigh, and she left if there when she was finished, slowly tracing the straight bones of his fingers, telling herself she was checking for breaks, and definitely not just admiring the square nails and the shear width of his palm.
She wound the small elastic bandage from the first aid kit in figure eights around his hand. It was the only thing she had to try and keep the swelling under control, so it would have to do. She leaned back as much as she could to study him, to make sure he had no other “scratches”. There was a small trickle of blood at his hair line, and she twisted sideways onto her knees, being careful to keep the thin fabric anchored beneath them, and ran her fingers awkwardly through his hair, probing gently for lumps. His breathing didn’t change, but his lips curved fleetingly into a sweet smile that made her breath catch in her throat.
She took an antiseptic wipe and dabbed at the thread of blood. It came away easily, revealing a thin red line beneath. The lump on the other side of his forehead had subsided, despite their vigorous activity. The bruising looked worse than ever in the scant light of their shelter, but Mia knew the deep purple over his forehead and ringing his eye was caused from the existing blood breaking down beneath the skin, and not from any new injury.
She traced her fingers gently over his forehead, then down the slightly off-kilter plane of his nose. Broken at least once, but it worked against the finely wrought aspects of his face. Straight brows, strong jaw, a generous mouth. Without the broken nose he’d be too pretty to pull off his cover identity. The tattoo over his collarbones peeked through the open neck of his shirt. He’d probably started getting them to improve his chances of being taken for a gangster. Now that was dedication to the job.
His breath fluttered the strands of hair that had escaped her braid, and she looked up and into his eyes. They were a peculiar shade of dark-ringed amber that made her think of light through stained glass. And then his pupils expanded and he pulled her into his lap and set his mouth on hers. She could feel him, rigid beneath her, and had a moment of heady anticipation before the wind tore the flimsy blanket free and they were once more being pelted by the rain.
“Nev! Get it!”
The dog came awake instantly and took off after the silver sheet. Mia clambered off Hudson’s lap and started tossing things back into the packs. Hudson rose unsteadily, adjusting his still wet jeans. “I suppose I did need a cold shower.” He tilted his head back, letting the rain wash over his face. “It’s letting up.”
It was. The dark clouds had skidded over to the next peak, but there were already hints of blue sky poking through. She checked her watch, and a chill that had nothing to do with the weather skipped down her spine like a mallet over a xylophone. “We’ve got to hurry.”
The question hovering in the back of her mind was: what they were hurrying down to?