Concern for Pop, MacGyver and the others consumed her. Were they crazy, following her?Oh hell, who am I kidding?Of course they followed. SEALs prided themselves on leaving no one behind. So did the Marines. She not only understood it, she’d lived the creed. It was part of the reason she’d jumped from the chopper to help MacGyver. That and the fact she’d gone a little crazy, fearing they wouldn’t reach him in time.
Hope flickered somewhere deep within her. Maybe she had a chance. Of surviving. Of putting an end to Tony’s grip on her family. MacGyver? She might have had a chance with him if she hadn’t shot Blake’s brother. MacGyver had chosen family ties over any extenuating circumstances she might have had. That was his right, just as it was hers to protect the life of an innocent Iraqi girl.
Forget MacGyver. It would be enough if her family could be made whole again. A faint smile pulled at her lips, which she quickly banished. A lot of things had to go right before any of those results would be forthcoming. Nothing had exactly gone right in her life for a long time. Why would it be any different now?
The answer flashed before her eyes in living color.MacGyver. Aww…hell! A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
The driver stopped the van, and Martin slid the side door open, grabbed her elbow, wrenching her to her feet, and dragged her out. Damn it. This wasn’t good. Clearly, he hadn’t been kidding when he said they were taking a walk. She’d almost rather face Palazzi than be alone in no-man’s land with this creep.
He chose two handguns—one of them hers—and a rifle from the stockpile in the rear of the vehicle. Twisting a length of rope through one of his belt loops, he let it hang against his thigh. After he closed the door, he gave her a shove toward the thick trees and away from the road.
Kellie stumbled through the brush and rocks. Apparently, her equilibrium had also taken a hit when Martin punched her. With hands tied behind her back, it was impossible to keep herself balanced. After the fourth time she fell and Martin had to help her up, she smiled her thanks to the man whose face she’d rather spit on. “How far are we going, Martin?”
The moron only grunted.
“It’d be less trouble for you and a whole lot easier on me if you untied these ropes.”
Martin studied her through narrowed eyes and actually appeared to consider the suggestion.
Kellie turned slowly, looking at the tall timber with its backdrop of dense, green vegetation. When she faced Martin again, she shrugged. “What good would it do me to run?”
That seemed to make sense to him and stroke his ego at the same time. He pulled a knife from his belt and turned her away from him. The serrated blade slid through her bindings, and her hands fell apart. With immense relief, she massaged life back into her wrists.
Martin snaked his arm around her, pulling her against his body, and palmed her breast with his large hand. Kellie tensed, drawing her elbow forward to plunge into his muscled gut. He squeezed, and she cried out. The knife appeared at the fringe of her vision as he set it menacingly at her throat.
“Actually, sweetheart, I wish youwouldrun. It’d give me an excuse.” He whispered the threat in her ear, and the hair stood up on her arms.
Kellie remained perfectly still and quiet, allowing him to paw and grope her body, while she swallowed the bile in the back of her throat and tried not to hurl. Seemingly disappointed she didn’t fight him, he growled and shoved her away. She bit back harsh words that would serve no purpose and walked out in the same direction they’d been traveling. Her hands were free, though it had cost her pride. Now all she needed was a gun.
A muscular man, at least six foot four and over two hundred pounds, Martin was no doubt strong, but clearly his expertise didn’t include walking straight up the side of a mountain. As the slope steepened and the going became tougher, his exertion took a toll on him. Every few minutes, he ordered her to stop and get on her knees while he dropped onto a stump or rock outcropping to catch his breath.
Kellie watched him with interest. She’d have no problem outdistancing him, but he still carried the rifle tucked against his side, and she couldn’t outrun a bullet. They’d bypassed her family’s cabin and, for whatever reason, appeared to be heading for the house where she and MacGyver had stayed together. She thrust the memory from her mind. She couldn’t afford to be distracted from her purpose.
According to Martin’s side of his phone call, Tony must be waiting in the house for her arrival, and she wasn’t too excited about givinghimwhat he wanted. So, she kept an eye on Martin from beneath lowered lashes, pretending that she, too, was having trouble with the climb and needed the rest. Sooner or later, he’d let down his guard and turn his back…and she’d be ready.
In the silence of the forest, broken only by Martin’s harsh grunts, she strained to listen for the sound of a helicopter. Nothing but the wind in the boughs over her head reached her ears.
“Fuck this!”
Kellie jumped as the expletive exploded from Martin. He hoisted himself off the ground, using the butt of the rifle for leverage, and stomped toward her. She rose and started walking again, but he grasped her arm and swung her to face him.
His eyes were dark with anger. “That bastard, Palazzi, wants me to walk you up this damn hill while he relaxes on his ass in that grand house at the top. What do I get out of it? Nothing!”
Quicker than she thought possible, he captured her wrists. Her hopes of freedom quickly disappeared when he trussed them together with the end of the rope he’d attached to his belt loop. “The hell with him. I’m going totakewhat I want.” He drew his knife again, brandishing it in front of her. “And you, sweetheart, you’re not going to make a sound, are you?”
Kellie shook her head as despair drained her courage. The last thing she’d expected was for him to double-cross Tony. That couldn’t be very healthy. Nor did it seem prudent to protest her bound wrists while the knife flashed in her face.
He took off through the forest, circling the hill instead of climbing straight up the side, dragging her behind him. It was all she could do to keep her feet underneath her as he covered the ground with purposeful strides. Every few feet, he stopped to inspect a low-hanging branch before moving on.
Finally, he halted beneath the canopy of a large pine tree, its bottom-most limbs almost touching the ground. He examined the growth above their heads, then took out his knife and trimmed one of the smaller limbs that jutted from a large branch. “Yeah, this will do.”
With a vicious jerk, he yanked her to a spot beneath the trimmed branch. Lifting her arms over her head, he stretched her until the rope binding her wrists slipped over the three-inch stub he’d created. When he let her drop, her toes barely reached the ground.
Her shoulders screamed with the pain of the sudden weight, and she tried her best to bear some of it on her feet, but it was impossible for any length of time. Confused and really afraid for the first time since she’d been captured, she focused on his gloating face. “What are you doing? I’ve done everything you said. What more do you want from me?”
He stepped toward her and pressed the knife’s edge to her throat. “Did I say you could talk?”
A flick of his fingers sent a searing pain through the sensitive skin of her throat. She gasped to keep from crying out. Something warm ran down her neck. The bastard had cut her.