Amish Hideout. Maggie K. Black

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СКАЧАТЬ about it. “He lost a lot of blood and passed out.”

      She bit her lip. “Did he suffer?”

      He paused, then reached down and slowly helped her do her zipper up.

      “I won’t lie. He would’ve been in a lot of pain. But he also used his dying breath and the last ounce of energy he had to get here. My guess is that he was trying to warn us about what was happening and tell us there were hostiles on the property. When backup arrives they’ll retrieve the body and notify his family. He died a hero’s death and will get a hero’s funeral. Now we have to move. Come on.”

      Still, she was hesitating. She needed more answers.

      “I don’t understand why the person in the kitchen looked like Dexter—if he’s really in jail,” she said. “Or why he wants me alive. Or why the walkie-talkies were down or how anyone could find a WITSEC safe house. I don’t even know if Karl and Stacy and all the other US marshals protecting me are going to be okay. What if there are more shooters in those trees? What if they shoot at us? What if they kill you and take me?”

      Her voice rose to a wail, and as much as she hated it she didn’t know how to get control of it again. Her hands began to shake, a harsh uncontrollable quivering that moved up her arms and into her body.

      “Celeste!” Jonathan’s voice grew urgent. “Focus. Look at me. You’re in shock. It’s totally understandable, but you’ve got to fight through it. Now I don’t know how computers work. I’ve never opened one up and looked inside, and you could definitely say I didn’t exactly grow up in a technologically advanced house. But I’m guessing that in computer code every character or number has a purpose, right? Every part has its own thing it’s doing? Right?”

      She blinked and a smile crossed her face, which was so unexpected it shocked her. What an odd way to explain it. He wasn’t right, but kind of close. “Something like that.”

      “Okay,” he said. “Well, each of us has a job to do. Rod’s was to watch the perimeter. Karl and Stacy’s job is to hold down the fort and give us a chance to get out of here.” He took another step toward her. His hands rested on her shoulders. “Your job is to testify against the man who’s ultimately responsible for Rod’s death and make sure he faces justice for stealing all those people’s money. And my job is to keep you safe until you do.”

      He stood there a moment with his hands on her shoulders, and something inside her wanted to step closer, to lean into his chest and let his strong arms envelop her, in a way no man had since her father had died. Even though she barely knew Jonathan Mast, and he didn’t seem like the type who was into hugs. She closed her eyes and felt her lips move in silent prayer. The she opened her eyes, swallowed hard and stepped back. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

      She grabbed a pair of leather gloves from the pocket of her coat and pulled them on. He did the same from his. He reached for her hand. She took it and he quickly yet carefully led her around the body and out into the cold predawn air. They ran, pressing through the thick trees as their feet pounded down the snow. The ground sloped beneath their feet. Gunfire echoed in the distance. The sun was starting to rise as the faintest pink sliver of light along the gray horizon. The trees parted and she saw the road.

      Jonathan dropped her hand and led her along the tree line to where a large and tough-looking truck lay hidden in the trees by a camouflage cover. “Stand way back. I need a minute to uncover the truck, do a quick sweep to make sure no one tampered with it, and get it back on the road. Then we’re good to go.”

      She crossed over to the other side of the road and waited as he started the engine and slowly pulled the truck back onto the road. A small battered-looking car flew down the road to her left and fishtailed to a stop. A tall heavyset young man behind the wheel held a cell phone.

      “Hey! I think we’ve found her! Start recording!” a shorter and stockier young man called, leaping out of the passenger side. Celeste turned and ran, sprinting in the direction of Jonathan’s truck. A blast sounded in the air behind her. She stopped and turned back. The young man’s shoulders rolled back in a swagger as he pointed a handgun sideways at her. “Yo, you’re Celeste, right? Celeste Alexander? You’re that hacker chick that Poindexter’s got a bounty out on? I’m Miller. That there with the phone recording, this is my buddy, Lee. Get in the car now! Or I’ll kill ya!”

      Jonathan shifted into Drive and was about to punch the engine when one word he’d heard the thugs shout a split second earlier finally caught up with his brain. Recording. The brazen thugs now pointing a gun at Celeste weren’t just announcing their crime like a bad online video—they were recording it, too. Just like whoever Celeste had seen in the kitchen they weren’t wearing ski masks. No, these two wanted to be both seen and known.

      Thankfully, Jonathan was wearing civilian clothing. He shoved a hat down hard over his head and wrapped a scarf around his face. Then he gunned the engine. The truck shot out of the woods and straight across the road, swerving to a stop behind Celeste so that the driver’s side door was directly behind her.

      She spun back, her eyes wide. Her hand rose to her lips.

      The gun-wielding showman jumped back in shock with a shout that turned into a nervous laugh. “Whoa! Lee, you getting this? Make sure you’re getting this!”

      Jonathan unholstered his weapon. Disgust whelmed up inside him. These criminals were threatening Celeste at gunpoint and treating it as some kind of game, when a good man had just died protecting her. He leaped from the truck and raised his gun high with both hands. “Celeste! Get behind me!”

      She ran for him, darting behind him so quickly she nearly slid and fell. Miller turned back.

      “Who are you?” Miller shouted. Jonathan didn’t answer. No, he wasn’t about to announce who he was and flash his badge on camera until he found out what exactly they were caught up in. For now, being undercover suited him just fine. Miller jabbed the air with the barrel of his gun. “Look, I don’t want trouble. I just want the hacker girl. Let me take her and go.”

      His voice shook. There was a whole lot of nervousness hiding behind the bravado, and desperation, too. Not that it made anyone safer. A determined and reckless amateur was every bit as dangerous as a professional.

      “That’s not going to happen,” Jonathan shouted. “Put the gun down.”

      Miller waited a long moment, eyeing him as if weighing invisible options. Jonathan stared him down and didn’t blink. The US marshal had no doubt what would happen if it came to a shoot-out, but still he was going to do anything in his power to stop it from happening. He could still remember vividly what it was like to fire a gun for the first time. For a young man coming from an Amish background, there’d been something so foreign about it. Now, as his eyesight narrowed, his shoulders relaxed and his fingers prepared to fire, it was as comfortable as if the weapon was an extension of him. He just prayed that today wouldn’t be the first day he took a life in the line of duty.

      “Whatever, man!” Miller threw his hands up like an exaggerated shrug. “You win this round. I don’t care. I’m just in it for the money, and Lee here’s just got us probably a grand’s worth of footage. Poindexter’s got everyone with dark web access and the willingness to step up and make a few bucks out looking for her. So, you can take her now, but someone else is going to take her back from you later. That’s just how the game’s played.”

      “What game?” Celeste’s voice came from behind Jonathan. “Tell me! How did you know where I was? Why does Poindexter want me taken alive?”

      Miller СКАЧАТЬ