“Damn it!”
He turned to look over his shoulder in desperation. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Seeing another tent, he ran for it and tore back the flap.
“NO!”
He raced across the camp toward the hovels where the children and the other hostages had been.
“Kate!” he yelled again into the night air. His voice echoed off the canyon walls, mocking him.
She never answered. Kinkaid took refuge in the shadows—staying clear of the light—and stood in the midst of the chaos he’d created. The terrorists had fled into the hills.
And Kate was nowhere to be found.
CHAPTER 16
As he hiked back to where he’d stashed the hostages, Kinkaid fought the urge to give in to the dark emotions he felt. He’d come so far, only to have Kate slip through his hands again, but now wasn’t the time to wallow in self-pity or give in to doubt.
He had a lot on his mind as he reflected on his brushes with death over the last few days. They weren’t the first ones he’d had, and they certainly wouldn’t be the last. Although each near miss was unique, they ran icy cold in his veins. And cold sober, he had to admit they shook him up, despite his macho front to the contrary.
A normal man in another line of work might have sought therapy to deal with the trauma. His usual therapy was paying a visit to Dr. Jack Daniel’s or his associate Dr. Johnny Walker. But here and now, he knew the next best thing. Having someone to protect or someone to hunt would be all the rehabilitation he’d need.
And lucky for him—
That was what he was thinking when he came face-to-face with Alexa and her team. They had found the hostages and “disarmed” them. And no one had gotten killed in the process. He now had someone to deal with the captives, and he could track the bastards who’d abducted Kate without the trail turning cold. With the exception of Kate still missing, it had been a good day.
Alexa didn’t look as if she agreed.
She glared at him and stood with arms crossed, blocking his path. And when she saw the bloody crease on his arm, she shifted her eyes back to his.
“What are you gonna do for an encore? Invade Afghanistan single-handed?”
He returned her glare. “You slipped me a mickey. And you left me behind.” He shrugged. “I got bored.”
“Next time I’ll leave a deck of cards.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time, Marlowe. You and me? We’re done.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You have what we came for. Garrett can chalk up Kate to collateral damage and put this mission in the win column, mission accomplished. Take them home. I’m going after Kate.” He turned his back on her and gathered his gear. “Have a good life. And thanks.”
When he walked through the rescued hostages, men stopped him to shake his hand or pat him on the back. And women hugged and kissed him, calling him a hero. They reached their hands out to touch him as he walked by. He never thought of himself as a hero and found it hard to accept their gratitude, especially since they weren’t out of danger yet.
But there was one person he wanted to see one last time.
Before he left, Kinkaid leaned down to kiss Joselyne on the forehead, and whispered, “I’ll find Kate. This isn’t over.”
He headed toward the destroyed camp with his gear over one shoulder and his assault rifle in his hand. The terrorists had fled the canyon and escaped into the hills. And all he wanted to do was track them, but Alexa wasn’t done. She stepped around him and stood in his path with a hand on his chest, shoving him to make her point.
“Garrett wanted to keep this mission low-profile. That means we clear out now…before morning. He doesn’t want to see our faces on CNN or have to negotiate for our release from Castro.”
“Neither do I. That’s not gonna happen,” he argued.
“You walk away now, and Garrett will cut off his help. You know it, and I know it,” she threatened.
Kinkaid kept his mouth shut—his only answer. He was done talking. With his assault rifle and gear hanging off his shoulder, he stood with his arms crossed and his jaw tight.
“You leave me no choice.” She mirrored his stance and her blue eyes turned icy. He knew from experience, the woman could be real dangerous when she got backed into a corner—one of the things they had in common.
New York City
Sentinels Headquarters
Hours later
It had been a long day. Garrett wiped a hand over his face in frustration as he sat behind his desk. He had taken a quick shower and changed into jeans and a light sweater, hoping to jump-start his brain with a fresh outlook. Alexa dominated his thoughts. And his fears for her magnified after he’d seen the latest on Aljazeera.net.
Two more videos had been posted online since the first grisly transmission. Tanya made sure he’d seen them. The posts stirred renewed interest in the Haiti incident. World media were focused on the tragedy again. The first new video was the beheading of an American named George Crowell, husband to the woman who had died the same way in Haiti. The video marked the tragic end to the philanthropic efforts of a remarkable couple, but why kill a wealthy couple like the Crowells if these men were after ransom money? The erratic behavior of the terrorists concerned him. They appeared more like ruthless killers using their fanatical beliefs as an excuse to butcher innocent people. Had money taken a backseat to bloodlust?
The second video piqued Garrett’s interest more for a different reason.
A Catholic nun had been beaten in front of the camera. Watching the horror made him angry. And the outpouring of concern from the religious community—both online and in the global media coverage—had stirred a maelstrom of public opinion calling for action. They had run out of time, and the world was watching. The nun’s captors were hooded cowards who demanded money. Garrett recognized the name of the American that these men expected to pay the ransom.
Unless Kinkaid had one hell of a vanishing act—and obliterated his personal history—he’d become the target of a media blitz he couldn’t outrun. There would be no place for him to hide and no aspect of his life that would be off-limits. He knew enough about the man’s past to recognize how devastating that would be. Kinkaid didn’t have a covert international organization behind him to cover his ass like Garrett did.
And after CNN gave the name of the nun and her affiliation to the missionary school, it only took Garrett a moment to realize the truth. Sister Mary Katherine was the Kate that Kinkaid had cared so much about. The pieces to the puzzle were coming together, even though he still had no idea how Kinkaid knew the nun or why he would endure such an extraordinary rescue mission to save her. His people were doing their own digging, and he hoped to know more about Kinkaid’s personal connection soon.
When he heard a knock on his door, he welcomed the distraction from his grim thoughts. “Come in.”
“Sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got an update.” Tanya carried a file and sat at a chair in front of his desk. “I had Seth Harper analyze old transmissions from another case that happened not too long ago…one we have more intelligence on. The MO was similar to the incident in Haiti.”
“And you thought if we found a link to this old case, we might have an idea who’s behind the abductions in
