Operation: Midnight Guardian (7 page)

“We keep moving,” Cutter said.

She blinked rapidly as snow swirled around her face. “How do you propose we do that when we can’t see? When we have no earthly idea where we are?”

“I’ve got a compass.”

“A compass? It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a compass to get us through this storm.”

He jammed a thumb in the direction of the cave. “Or maybe you want to hang out in the cave a little while longer.”

“Look, I’m no fan of vampires, but—”

“I’m not talking about the damn bats. I’m talking about The Jaguar and his men.”

She looked uneasily toward the black hole from which they’d just emerged. “You think they followed us?”

“I think it’s an assumption we have to make if we want to stay alive.”

“If they followed us into that bat-infested cave, who’s to say they won’t follow us into the blizzard?”

“Knowing The Jaguar, he will.” Cutter looked around. “We’ll just have to make it a little more difficult for them.”

He’d been saving the two concussion grenades in his belt for emergencies. This wasn’t exactly an emergency, but if he could keep The Jaguar’s men from following them, the small explosives would be well worth using. Tugging one of the tiny canisters from his belt, he walked over to the cave opening and looked into the darkness.

Mattie came up beside him. “What are you doing?”

“Buying us some time.” He lifted the canister, set the timer, and began to silently count.
One one thousand. Two one thousand.
“See that copse of trees?” he asked, motioning toward a protected area high on the other side of the small gorge where they were standing.

She squinted. “Barely.”

“You have fifteen seconds to get there. Start running. I’m right behind you.”

She shot him a startled look he might have enjoyed had the circumstances not been so dire. “Why fifteen seconds?”

Aiming carefully, he tossed the grenade onto a ledge directly above them that was piled high with snow. “Because there’s going to be an avalanche.”

The explosion shook the earth. Cutter prayed his calculations were correct. If they weren’t, he and Mattie would be buried alive by a thousand tons of churning, crushing snow.

He held on to her hand with a death grip as he dashed toward the stand of aspen trees. The ground beneath his feet trembled. He sensed the awesome power of the avalanche. Felt the spray of snow on his face.

But he didn’t risk looking back. One wrong move could mean a fall. A fall at this point would mean certain death, and he had absolutely no intention of dying.

As suddenly as the explosion began, it eerily stopped. Cutter and Mattie reached the trees and higher ground. Cutter swung around. The avalanche and snowstorm had combined forces and turned the mountain into a surreal scene that was white on white on white. It was one of the most stunning sights he’d ever seen in his life.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

Grinning, he looked at Mattie. Her eyes were on his, midnight blue against milky skin. “Mother Nature put on a hell of a show, didn’t she?”

“She’s not too careful with her audience.” But her gaze was fixed on the powder snow swirling down like a white tornado.

Cutter released her hand and stepped back. “That ought to hold them for a while.”

“Now we can freeze to death in peace.”

He frowned at her. Snow sparkled in her hair and on her skin. Her cheeks blushed with cold. Damn, he really wished she didn’t look so good. If he wasn’t careful, she was going to get to him on a level he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“We need to keep moving.” Pulling the compass from his pocket, he motioned toward the faint trail.

“Where are we going?”

“To see if we can find one of those cabins I was telling you about.”

“The ones you were hoping are still standing?”

“Those are the ones.”

“How far?”

“A couple of miles at most.”

She gave him a sharp look. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not wearing coats.”

But Cutter had noticed. He hadn’t missed the fact that she was shivering. That her teeth were beginning to chatter. With nothing more than their street clothes to keep them warm, he knew it wouldn’t be long before hypothermia set in.

Because she wasn’t moving fast enough, he took her arm and pulled her into a brisk walk. He was starting to get cold, as well. His hands and feet were cold. To make matters worse, the throbbing of his ribs had returned with a vengeance.

Mattie had fallen silent. Cutter figured that was just as well. He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t have the answers she wanted to hear. Finding a cabin in these conditions was going to take nothing short of a miracle. He figured they had a couple of hours before serious hypothermia set in and their bodies began shutting down.

Once that happened, their fate would be sealed.

Chapter Six

Mattie didn’t know how she kept going. The cold was zapping not only her physical strength but her will to continue. It took every bit of her concentration just to put one foot in front of the other. She was beyond cold. Beyond exhaustion. Her hands were numb. Her feet felt like solid ice and ached every time they touched the ground. The urge to collapse and simply give up was strong. But Mattie had never been a quitter.

Ahead Cutter trudged through deep snow. He was like a machine set on autopilot, moving forward at a steady rate. She didn’t know how he did it. She was growing more exhausted with each step. Her arms were sluggish. Her legs felt weighted down. Even though she was moving, sleepiness tugged at her. In her peripheral vision the trees and snow blurred into a solid gray mass.

They’d just reached the valley floor when she
fell. One moment she was slogging along, thinking about a hot shower and a warm bed, the next she was lying facedown on the ground. The snow was cold against her face but at least she could rest now. She curled more deeply into the snow and closed her eyes….

“Mattie, come on. Get up.”

The voice came to her as if from a great distance. She knew it was Cutter. She knew he wanted her to get up. Didn’t he understand that she needed to rest? She hadn’t the strength to argue with him. She just wanted him to leave her alone.

The next thing she knew he’d hauled her to her feet. “Get up,” he growled. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

“Tired,” she muttered, surprised when she slurred the word.

“I know you’re tired. So am I. But we can’t stop now.”

“Gotta rest,” she murmured. “Just…a little while.”

The gentle slap of his palm against her cheek roused her. Mattie glared at him, a sharp retort on her tongue. But for the life of her she couldn’t manage the words. All she wanted to do was sleep….

“You’re going into hypothermia,” he said. “Damn it, you’ve got to keep moving.”

Mattie tried to take a step forward, just to appease him, but one knee buckled and she went down. Her hands were covered in snow. Oddly, they were no longer cold. The knees of her slacks were wet against her skin. But the snow looked so inviting. “Leave me ’lone.”

“Not a chance.”

The next thing she knew she was being dragged up and into his arms. She wasn’t so far gone that it didn’t register in her mind that she was too heavy for him to carry in his deteriorated condition. But she was too weak to argue.

Warmth emanated from his body into hers. Mattie relaxed against him. She felt her head loll back. She looked up at the swirling gray sky, caught a glimpse of Cutter’s face. His lips had a blue tinge, but his jaw was set, his expression was determined.

He’s saving my life,
she thought dazedly.

Then darkness descended in a cold black rush, and she didn’t think of anything at all.

FAILURE WAS THE ONE THING The Jaguar could not tolerate. Not in himself. Certainly not when it came to others. But that was exactly what had
happened. His team had failed him. Which meant
he
had failed.

Holed up in a tourist hotel twenty miles from the Canadian border and waiting out the storm, he was not in a good mood. He’d never been good at waiting. He’d never been a good sport when it came to losing. Or when it came to failing. He would
not
let the American scientist slip from his grasp.

“How did this happen?” he asked, his voice not betraying the fury building inside him.

“We followed them into the cave. We were minutes away from apprehending them, but an avalanche blocked the cave exit.” The young man’s glossy black hair was swept back in a ponytail revealing high cheekbones and heavy brows. His eyes and voice were level and calm. Like all the other men who worked for The Jaguar, he was a professional. But The Jaguar saw the nervousness just beneath the surface. The way the young man’s hands fluttered when he spoke. The up-and-down motion of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“An avalanche?”

“We believe the American agent used an explosive to set off an avalanche sealing the cave and preventing us from following.”

“I see.”

The young man’s eyes went to the window where snow continued to fall. “Perhaps after the storm—”

The Jaguar spun on him. “Not after the storm. Now. I want the chopper fueled and ready to go in an hour.”

“But the FAA has grounded all—”

The Jaguar leaned close, so that his face was mere inches from the younger man’s. “Are you a coward? Afraid to die for your cause?”

“No.”

“Good. Fuel the chopper. Brief the pilot. Make sure he’s ready to lift off within the hour.”

The young man bowed his head slightly. “Of course.”

But The Jaguar wasn’t finished. “Tell the rest of the men that I personally will kill any man who is not prepared to die for this cause.”

The young man nodded once then turned and fled the room.

CUTTER CARRIED HER as far as he could, and then he carried her a little farther. Visibility had dwindled to zero. The wind slapped at his face like a rude, icy hand. The cold stole through his body, paralyzing his muscles.

At some point in the past hours, he’d ac
cepted the very real possibility that they were going to die out here. The optimistic side of his mind reasoned that at least they would not die at the cruel hands of The Jaguar. Hypothermia wasn’t such a bad way to go. The only problem with that logic was that Cutter wasn’t ready to call it quits for at least another thirty or forty years.

But he was thinking about stopping. Just laying Mattie down in the snow, snuggling up beside her and holding her until the cold claimed them both. But then, that would be the easy way out. And he’d never been able to do things the easy way.

Just then he stumbled over something buried in the snow. Weakened by hypothermia, he dropped Mattie and fell flat on his face. For the span of several seconds he just lay there. Damn, this was bad. He should get up and do something. Maybe dig a snow shelter. At least that would get them out of the wind.

Mattie lay next to him, her hair wet, her complexion deathly pale. Dear God, had she succumbed to the cold? Shaken, he started to get up to reach for her and noticed the slow rise and fall of her chest. Thank goodness she was breathing. But he knew they couldn’t last much longer. Damn, he hadn’t wanted things to end this way.

He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he got to his knees, scooped her into his arms and struggled to his feet. That was when he realized the thing he’d stumbled over was not a log, but a piece of wood. He squinted into the blinding white swirl of the blizzard. At first he thought he was seeing some bizarre mirage. Then he realized the board had fallen off the porch of a small cabin. He’d stumbled upon the very thing he’d spent the past several hours searching for: the old hunting lodge.

Cutter stumbled onto the ramshackle porch. He rammed the front door with his shoulder. The rotting wood gave way with a resonant snap. He staggered into the murky interior. Dust and the musty odor of rotting wood filled his nostrils. Straight ahead a river-rock hearth dominated the room. Grimy windows allowed little light inside, but there was enough for him to see the rickety table and chairs near the rear door. A small sink. Cupboards. A bunk.

The woman in his arms stirred. Cutter looked down at her. “Hang on, blondie,” he whispered.

He swept dust and small debris from the bunk and set her on the mattress. Looking around, he
spotted a tattered blanket draped over the back of a chair. Cutter opened the blanket and covered her with it. It would have to be enough until he could get a fire started.

His head spun when he rose, and he fought to maintain his balance. He needed wood for the fire. His limbs felt as if they were made of lead as he crossed to the table and chairs. Awkwardly, he lifted one of the chairs to shoulder height, and brought it down on the table. Once. Twice. The table broke into two pieces on the third try. Another blow and two of the chair’s legs clattered to the floor.

Cutter gathered the wood and stacked it neatly in the hearth. He found several pages of an ancient newspaper someone had used to line the cupboards, wadded it up and placed it beneath the wood. A curse broke from his lips when he pulled the matchbox from his pocket and found most of the matches damp. Picking through, he finally found one that was dry, struck it against the stone. It lit. Carefully he set the flame beneath the wood and watched the paper ignite.

Once the wood was burning, he turned back to Mattie. She looked incredibly small and vulnerable lying curled on her side beneath the old
blanket. He had to get those wet clothes off her. Cutter didn’t want to do it—he wasn’t at all comfortable with the way he was responding to her—but he knew enough about hypothermia to know nothing zapped body heat more effectively than water.

Kneeling next to her, he set his hand on her shoulder. “Mattie?”

“Tired…” she muttered, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“We did it,” he said. “We’re in the cabin. I made a fire. See? You need to get out of those wet clothes so you can get warm.”

Her eyes fluttered open. She didn’t seem to recognize him. Worry descended at the sight of her dilated pupils. Her core body temperature was dangerously low. She was in no condition to undress. If her heart rate and oxygen intake slowed…