“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” She thrust her fingers at him.
His eyes flicked to the blood. Remorse filled his gaze. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…someone else.”
“Who?”
“It was a dream,” he said. “Let it go.”
“It was more than a dream, Cutter. It was a nightmare. You were covered with sweat and crying out in your sleep.”
Straightening, he turned to her. “Mattie, this is not your concern. Let it go.”
“It is my business when I have to worry about you mistaking me for someone else and cutting my throat.”
When he raked a hand through his short- cropped hair, Mattie saw his whole arm was trembling. What had upset this seemingly unflappable man so completely?
“Cutter, you’re shaking.”
“It’s damn cold.” He sent her a scathing look. “What the hell do you expect?”
“The truth would be a nice place to start.”
He gave a small, bitter laugh and looked away. “Coming from you that’s almost funny.”
Mattie let the jab roll off her. “You called out a name in your sleep,” she said.
His shoulders went rigid. A man made of stone and about to crumble, was all she could think.
“Monique,” she said. “You were speaking in French.”
Turning away from her, he strode to the window and looked out at the lightly falling snow.
“Who was she?” she asked.
“I don’t know anyone by that name. Never have.”
But Mattie knew he was lying. And she knew that whoever Monique was, she’d had a tremendous effect on this man. That the relationship hadn’t ended well.
“Does this have something to do with The Jaguar?” she asked.
His eyes were hard when he faced her, all traces of emotion wiped clean. “The storm has broken,” he said. “Gather your things. We need to leave.”
“You’re not going to talk about this, are you?”
“No.” Turning away from her, he began to gather a few scant items.
Sighing, Mattie glanced out the window. The prospect of going back out into the cold and snow sent a shudder through her. “We don’t have gear for hiking in this kind of weather. We don’t even have coats.”
Cutter walked to the blanket lying on the floor. Kneeling beside it, he withdrew his knife and began cutting it.
“Why are you cutting up our only blanket?”
“I’m making you a poncho.”
“Are you going to make me breakfast and a pair of boots, too?”
“Maybe next time.” Rising, he crossed to her and placed the poncho over her head. She jumped when he reached out and lifted her hair out of the collar.
“Good color on you,” he said thickly.
“I’ve always looked good in dusty old blankets.”
He didn’t smile, but there was a flash of amusement in his eyes.
The distinct sound of a chopper shattered the moment. Cutter jolted, rushed to the window. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed.
“Please tell me that’s someone coming to rescue us.” But from the look on Cutter’s face she knew it was not the case.
“Get out!” he shouted, running toward her. “Run! Now!”
Grabbing her hand, he jerked her hard toward the door. They were midway through it when the cabin exploded.
Chapter Nine
The next seconds passed in a blur of smoke and flames. One moment Cutter had been rushing through the door, the next he was flying through the air. Mattie’s hand was wrenched violently from his. Something large and hard slammed into his back, and he was flung into a foot of snow.
Lurching to his feet, he looked around wildly. The cabin had been reduced to a pile of burning rubble. In the distance he could hear the chopper’s rotors cutting through the air as the big bird prepared to make another pass. Then he spotted Mattie, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.
She was lying facedown in the snow twenty feet away as still as death. It wasn’t the first time Cutter had seen death. He’d crossed paths with the grim reaper too many times to count. But there was something obscene about seeing her small body twisted and still.
“Aw, no,” he heard himself say. “Mattie…”
The world went into slow motion as he rushed toward her. All he could think was that there was a very good possibility she was innocent. That her safety had been his responsibility. Now her death was his responsibility as well, and it was a load Cutter was not equipped to bear.
He went to his knees beside her. Gently he rolled her onto her back. In the distance he was aware of the chopper’s engines and the whop! whop! whop! of the blades as the craft drew nearer. Even without looking he knew the pilot was lining up to fire another rocket.
But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mattie. A crimson line ran from the corner of her mouth to her cheek. Oh dear God no…
Knowing they would soon be in full view of the gunner, Cutter scooped her into his arms and struggled to his feet. He looked over his shoulder, spotted the chopper hovering a hundred yards away. Wind and snow pelted him. He could practically feel the crosshairs burning into his back…
Her body was warm and soft against his as he scrambled toward the tree line twenty yards away. He was midway there when the second rocket exploded. The concussion slapped him in the back like a giant hand. Snow and debris bombarded him. He did his best to protect Mattie, but his main concern was getting them to cover. More than likely the next missile would not miss its mark.
A bullet ricocheted off the trunk of an aspen. The sound of automatic rifle fire exploded all around. A second bullet whizzed past his right ear, close enough for him to hear its deadly zing.
He heard the thwack! thwack! thwack! as bullets penetrated trees and the earth. He ran until his legs gave out. At the bottom of a ravine where a frozen stream wound through boulders the size of pickup trucks, he fell to his knees. His chest heaved. Gently he set Mattie on the ground and concentrated on getting oxygen into his lungs.
“Cutter?”
His heart skipped when he looked down at her and found her eyes on him. Relief and another emotion he didn’t want to identify jammed his throat as she struggled to a sitting position and looked around.
“What happened?”
“Just take it easy,” he heard himself say.
“My head.” She reached up and touched the back of her head. “Ouch.”
He scooted over to her and for a moment all he could do was stare. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided.” Her brows knitted in pain and she focused on him. “What happened?”
“They hit the cabin with a rocket.”
“A rocket? Seems like overkill, don’t you think?”
“Guess they wanted to be thorough.” Cutter grimaced. “They waited until we were out. They want you alive, Mattie.”
Her eyes were large and frightened when they met his. Cutter stared at her, emotions he had no business feeling churning in his gut. “Let me take a look at your head.”
She pulled the ponytail holder from her hair. “I don’t think it’s cut.”
“Whatever hit you knocked you out cold.” He set his hand against her scalp. The bump was the size of a hen’s egg. “No cut,” he said, but didn’t remove his hand.
“Feels like my head exploded.”
Her hair was like silk beneath his fingertips. Unable to stop himself, he ran his fingers through it. But suddenly a chaste touch wasn’t enough.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said thickly.
“‘All right’ being a relative state at this point.” She shot him a questioning look when he cupped the side of her face.
Cutter knew he was about to make a mistake. He knew by kissing her he would be taking a very big step over a line he swore he would never cross. Once he got a taste of her mouth, he would only want more. But with the remnants of fear and adrenaline running hot in his veins, it was a
risk he found himself willing to take.
Leaning close, he set his mouth against hers. Her quick intake of breath told him he’d surprised her, but he didn’t stop, and she didn’t pull away. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, seeking entry. His heart beat hard against his ribs. Blood rushed hotly to his groin. He wanted to put his arms around her. He wanted her body against his. Wanted his body inside hers…
The sound of rotors whipping the air jerked him back to reality. He pulled away. Her expression was startled. He wanted to say something, or maybe apologize for crossing a line he shouldn’t have. He figured they both knew there was no time.
“Come on.” Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet.
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace where the sniper in that chopper can’t pick us off.”
MATTIE DIDN’T KNOW if she was dizzy from the blow to her head or the kiss that had hit her every bit as hard. But her head was spinning as Cutter took her down the snow-covered trail. She couldn’t believe The Jaguar had found them, that they’d come within inches of being blown to smithereens. She couldn’t believe hard-nosed Sean Cutter had kissed her senseless. It was the last thing she’d expected him to do. But then, in the last thirty-six hours, she’d come to expect the unexpected.
She could hear the chopper. The roar of the engines. The rotors cutting through the air. The occasional rapid fire of an automatic weapon.
“This way!”
Cutter shouted the words an instant before he went off the trail. The trees they’d been using for cover melted away and they found themselves in a wide, open meadow. The scene might have been beautiful if there hadn’t been a madman bent on killing them in hot pursuit. Mattie suddenly felt dangerously exposed. What was Cutter thinking?
“Are you trying to get us killed?” she shouted. “We’re sitting ducks here!”
“Trust me.”
She tried to wrench her hand free of his, but he tightened his grip and picked up speed. They ran through snow that came up to her knees. The base of some type of steel tower blew past. She was beginning to tire.
A burst of gunfire erupted. A bullet zinged past her ear. Another ricocheted off an exposed rock. “Cutter, they’re shooting at us!”
“Not for long.”
He veered left and pulled her into a wild sprint toward a second tower. In the back of her mind it registered that the tower held high-voltage power lines. There was a clearing where crews had cut a swath of trees to build the massive towers. The realization that Cutter was purposefully leading the chopper to the power lines registered just as she heard a thunderous crack! Out of the corner of her eye she saw the chopper tilt at a precarious angle. The tail rotor snapped into two pieces. Electricity arced. Sparks flew. White smoke billowed.
An instant later the fuselage exploded. An orange ball rose into the sky like a fiery air balloon. Debris flew outward. The chopper came apart in midair, then huge chunks of twisted steel plummeted to the ground.
“Oh my God,” she heard herself say. “They hit the power lines.”
Cutter watched the last of the debris hit the ground. “Visibility is poor because of the snow. They couldn’t see the wires.”
The sight of such utter destruction left her paralyzed. Even though the men in the chopper had been trying to kill them, Mattie suddenly felt an urgent need to help them. “Cutter, we can’t just walk away from them.”
Without waiting for a response, she extricated her hand from his and started off at a jog toward the downed chopper. “We have to help them.”
Cutter caught up with her, captured her arm and spun her to face him. “You don’t want to go over there,” he said.
“Those men could be…injured or dying.”
“Take my word for it, Mattie. There are no survivors.”
No survivors.
She knew it was stupid, but the thought of more people dying made her want to cry. “How many people are going to die before this is over?”
Cutter shook his head. “When it comes to The Jaguar, people are expendable.” He looked toward the smoldering wreckage. “This proves he will stop at nothing to get the information locked inside your head.”
The words made her feel sick. “If he wants me so badly, why don’t we just set a trap? Use me as bait?”
Cutter couldn’t say he hadn’t considered it. He wanted to take down The Jaguar so badly he could taste it. He owed it to himself, owed it to the son of a bitch who’d left his body covered with scars. Martin Wolfe had made it abundantly clear that if it came down to Mattie’s life or The Jaguar, she was expendable.
So why haven’t you used her as bait, hotshot? a taunting little voice asked.
He didn’t like the answer that came to mind. “Because it’s my job to take you back.”
“You can still accomplish that and use me as bait.” Her expression brightened. “Cutter, The Jaguar is one of the few people who can clear my name. He knows who it was at DOD who gave him the plans for the EDNA project. If he testifies to that—”
“He won’t testify.”
“Maybe the federal prosecutor will cut him some kind of deal.”
“No, Mattie,” he snapped.
“But—”
“No. Damn it.”
She stared at him, her expression a combination of hurt and anger. She was too eager. Too willing to put herself on the line. The combination gave Cutter a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He told himself he was just being conservative, playing it safe. But the truth was he couldn’t put her in the line of fire because he cared for her.
“I’m going to see if I can salvage the chopper’s radio,” he said.
“I’ll go with you.”
“Stay here,” he snapped.
“Cutter, I can help.”
“Damn it, Mattie, you don’t want to see that wreckage.”
He started toward the downed chopper.
“IMBECILES! ALL OF THEM!” The Jaguar snapped the cell phone shut and threw it across the room. The one thing he could not tolerate was incompetence, and he seemed to be surrounded by it.
The two men standing at his desk shifted uncomfortably as they waited for their next orders.
Furious, The Jaguar stared them down. “You were on the radio with them when this accident occurred?”
One of the men nodded. “That’s correct.”
“How did this happen?”
“One of the men in the chopper had just spotted the scientist on the ground. They followed. Visibility was poor. I can only assume the pilot didn’t see the power lines.” The man shrugged. “I heard screaming…”
The Jaguar didn’t care about the men who’d died. All he cared about was the scientist. And Sean Cutter, the bastard. He knew Cutter was just good enough to have engineered such an accident. Even though he hated the man, he felt a grudging moment of respect for him. “The chopper was equipped with GPS?”
The taller of the two men stepped forward. “We’ve already got the coordinates.”
“Send a team to the wreckage site. I want every available man looking for them.”
“We’ve got two teams en route via snowmobile.”
“I want two more teams sent out.”
“Done,” said the second man.
The two men exchanged looks. “What about the bodies?” one of them asked.
The Jaguar waved off the question. “Leave them. I need every available man searching for that scientist and that bastard agent.”
“But, sir—”
“I said leave them!” He strode to a map mounted on the wall. “How far to the nearest town?”
“Six miles. Too far for them to make it on foot in this weather.”
He turned to the men. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating Sean Cutter,” he said coldly.
“We’ll do our best to intercept them before they reach the town.”
“The success of our objective depends on the apprehension of that scientist. Rest assured, gentlemen, I wi
ll kill the next man who lets them escape. Make sure every man knows that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want them found. I want them brought to me.”
And after he extracted the information on the EDNA weapons system, he would take his time killing them both.
Chapter Ten
Cutter found Mattie standing at the base of the nearest tower, her face pale and drawn. Even though she’d wrapped herself in the makeshift poncho, she was shivering. He didn’t know if it was from the cold or the shock of seeing the chopper go down, but he was concerned.
“The radio is dead,” he said.
Disappointment darkened her lovely features. “Are you sure?”
“It’s in pieces.” He raised the 9 mm Beretta he’d pilfered from one of the bodies. The pistol was covered with soot but had somehow survived the heat and flames. “This was the only valuable thing I could salvage.
“And the men?”
He shook his head. “No survivors.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’d been hoping…”
The need to comfort her overwhelmed his need for caution. He walked over to her, set his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “Don’t think about them,” he said.
“I’m not like you,” she said. “I can’t shut things out.”
He wanted to tell her he wasn’t so good at it, either, but figured they’d both be better off if he let it go. “We need to keep moving. Find shelter.” He looked up at the slate-gray sky. “From the looks of those clouds, there’s more snow on the way.”
A humorless laugh broke from her lips. “At least there’s no one shooting at us.”
For now, Cutter thought, and removed the scrap of paper from his pocket. “I found this.”
Her eyes flicked down to the paper in his hand. “What is it?”
“Part of a map.” He unfolded it, taking care not to damage the burned edges.
“It’s pretty scorched. I don’t see how it’s going to help us.”