Uphill, snow and ice caught his feet, but he ignored what felt like an hour long slow down. In truth, he knew it had only been a few minutes, but his guts were shredding. If they hurt her, mission failure wouldn’t be the only thing on his conscience.
He slid off the trail and rounded the rocks where he’d left Cait.
Quaid was there unconscious and alone.
Cait was gone.
Chapter Eight
Cait thought the face that appeared around the outcropping was going to be Hunt’s.
She was wrong.
The bastard caught her caring for Quaid’s wound, and she couldn’t immediately go on the attack. She grabbed the knife Hunt had given her from where she’d laid it and palmed it. The stranger swooped in, knocked her off her feet, then lifted her onto his shoulder and started across the snowy terrain.
Every step he took was a punch in her gut. He smelled bad, and it would serve him right if she puked down his back from the combo of the two.
The single male was wrapped against the cold, but he’d dropped the scarf from across his face. His breath exhaled loudly from his mouth. Obviously, not used to the strain of carrying her weight, she twisted to make him drop her, counting on the rocky, snowy terrain to help her, but he had strong arms wrapped around her torso.
With every ounce of energy she had, she twisted and kicked trying to get the man to loosen his hold. She tightened her fingers on the knife and wrestled for ten seconds with the ethics of being a doctor and killing someone. But dammit, where he was taking her, she’d be raped and dead before the sunset or would wish she was.
Gripping the knife, she stopped wiggling to lull him.
Her fingers were stiff. One plunge attempt was all she was going to get.
If she missed his jugular, she was going to have to fight him.
He was taller, stronger, and moved well. He wasn’t as good as her SEALS, but capable enough to be a continued threat.
So don’t miss.
She slipped off her glove and let it drop in the snow behind her. Gripping the knife as tight as she could, she twisted and struck, plunging the blade into the man’s neck.
The spurt proved her aim true.
One of the man’s arms dropped from her body and clutched his neck. Cait rolled off his shoulder and landed hard in the snow.
The muffled fire of a weapon sounded.
She didn’t wait to figure out whether it was the good guys or more bad guys. She rolled across the snow and threw herself toward a large mound, hoping for cover. Her limbs would not support her. She scrambled across the ground, whacking her head on the hard surface of the mound. “God damn rocks,” she gasped in pain. All out of energy, she collapsed.
“Cait!”
The sound of someone shouting her name brought tears to her eyes.
She couldn’t answer, her breath barely there from the fight and the fall.
Seconds later, strong arms pulled her up. She knew it was Hunt the minute he touched her.
“God, are you hurt?” Hunt lifted her from the snow into his arms, then sank to the rock. She collapsed against him, unable to do anything else.
“No.” She shook her head, seeking his eyes. The spark there reassured her. “I killed him.”
“No, honey, I killed him.”
“Stabbed him. Jugular. My knife.” Why couldn’t she put a sentence together? All she could do was comfort herself in the depth of his eyes. Then it went beyond his eyes. His mouth slammed onto hers – desperate, warm, and devouring.
Adrenaline and need responded.