The truck roared by without stopping.
Ezra watched it continue along the levee and then drive off the side of the berm and into the corn field. The vehicle kept going for about a hundred yards before slowing, then it stopped. No one got out, leading him to conclude his defensive fire had done its job.
“Thank you, God. Thank you, Susan.” To his disappointment, his heart refused to slow down. It beat as if he were still running at full speed.
“Ezra!” Butch cried out from far away.
The big guy was out on the bridge sprinting his way. Ezra finally experienced some relief. His heart slowed, as if knowing help was close.
Haley came up to him, breathing hard. “Hey, Ezra.”
He looked again, wiping sweat from his eyes. Butch was still out on the bridge, about a hundred yards back. While only expecting his buddy, he’d missed the young woman approaching. Haley had outrun him by a good margin.
She knew what he was thinking. “He’s slow. I figured you needed some help.”
“They were all waiting for us.” He motioned to the far side of the road but held her back when she made like she was going to go over there. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” she replied, warily holding her rifle.
“I just wanted you to be ready, in case they come at us.” He could barely breathe, which upset him greatly standing next to the fit woman. The gunfight had taken the literal wind out of his proverbial sails. In contrast, she’d sprinted across the half-mile bridge and barely seemed to notice.
Butch arrived a short time later, also sounding like the run was nothing. After Ezra motioned to the dip behind the levee, the soldier crept up on the scene of the battle. When he looked over, through his scope, he squeezed a shot off. The report surprised Haley, and for some reason it also shocked him.
Butch stood up. “That sucked. One wounded guy tried to get a bead on me. I couldn’t let it happen. So, uh, I think they’re all dead now. I see three by the trucks, plus one farther down the way. Weren’t there five of them?”
Ezra pointed to the truck out in the field on their side of the highway. “He’s the last one. Let’s go check on him together. He’s the ringleader. Mustache man. I’m pretty sure I got the guy.”
The three of them walked into the corn.
CHAPTER 12
Somewhere in Central Wyoming
The train arrived ten minutes after Grace and the others jumped to the tracks to escape Nerio’s bullets. Once they explained what had happened, the group posted guards at both ends of the thousand-foot-long tunnel and waited to see if the helicopter would show up again. It gave Grace a place of safety to deal with Misha.
“Tell me again why we should trust you? Who is this woman? How does she know you? Why does she think you would even consider killing us?” Frustration leaked into her voice. “I took your word it was necessary to go the opposite way from my father. Was that a lie, too?”
“I already told you everything. My career with TKM was in security. I knew of men and women like Nerio. Paid thugs who did work I never needed to know about. But they are not only thugs. They are highly trained. Intelligent. She knew enough about me to suspect I would go certain direction when set free.” His shoulders slumped in a very un-Misha-like act of contrition. “And I am thinking she was right. I did lead her to you. Not other way around, as I thought.”
She kicked at the gravel next to the railroad tracks. “Forget all that. It’s water under the bridge. I want to know why we should place our lives in your hands. Why should we trust you have friends where you’re taking us? Maybe they’ll betray you, too.”
“Water under bridge?” the Russian asked with curiosity.
She answered. “It means we can’t change what happened.”
“Ah.” Misha walked toward the wall of the tunnel, then leaned against it, pulling out a pack of smokes. As he lit one up, he offered the pack to her and Asher.
“No, thanks,” she said with impatience.
Asher took longer to wave him off. He’d given them up over the past week and probably thought getting shot at by a sniper was a good reason to pick up the habit again. To Grace’s relief, he didn’t break down and accept. It struck her how much she cared for the guy, even when they weren’t kissing under high-stress situations.
Misha lit up, took a long drag, then looked at her. “When I left dig site south of Yellowstone, it was well organized. Well defended. My friends and I had expertly kicked out competing mining company…we kept peace by flying helicopters over nearby lands. But when I got to Denver and saw how chaotic Tikkanen had made it, I knew it was only matter of time before Yellowstone site would go same way. Each person kicked out of Denver will go to next one. Draw of money is too great.”
“I get it,” she affirmed.
“Petteri almost shot me on spot when I arrived. Nerio saved me. At first, I thought it was professional courtesy. Now I know better. You can trust me because I have nothing left to live for but revenge. My family in Russia is dead. Is all water under bridge, as you said. It was Petteri Tikkanen who did it. Killing you to get back in graces of a monster is not how Misha Gagarin plays game.”
She almost believed him. “But you would have killed us if your family was still alive?”
He took a drag. “You already know answer to this question. I did not kill you when I had chance. Multiple times.”
Grace accepted the truth of it. At the time, he’d
