Page 26 of A SEAL's Protection
The look she gives me is pure irritation, but at least she’s looking at me. I cock my head and hold out my hand for her equipment.
She pulls the GPS toward her. “I know where we’re going,” she states. “I’m looking for the stream that’s meant to cut through here.”
“You mean the stream that’s around the next bend?”
Her eyes widen. “How do you do that? You sure you haven’t been here before?”
I shake my head, grinning. I’m not about to tell her my ears are so attuned to my surroundings I can hear the soft burble of a stream under the noise of our footsteps. Or that I’ve noticed patches of moss on the rocks for the last ten minutes, or that there are more birds circling, which indicates a water source. The only thing I’m guessing at is how far away it is.
“I was trained to see around corners.” I give her my best laid-back grin. “It’s a special ops skill.”
She rolls her eyes at me and turns towards the path. We get moving again, and the grin slips off my face as I glance up at the ridgeline.
I’m also not about to tell her about the skin prickling at the back of my neck. We’re being watched, and it’s by something bigger than the birds that swoop overhead.
We carry on, and sure enough, around the next bend is the stream Allegra’s looking for. She stops when she sees it and turns to me with her eyebrows raised.
I shrug. “Special skills.”
She shakes her head and continues until we reach a place where a flat boulder makes it easy to stop.
Allegra shrugs off her pack and gets out her sample kit, her laptop, and camcorder. She perches on the edge of a flat boulder and opens her laptop like we have all afternoon.
My gaze goes to the ridgeline, but there’s no movement. Still, I don’t want to stay here longer than we have to.
Allegra seems unaware of the danger, so I keep my tone light and playful—something I’ve mastered over the years.
“I’ll give you a hand.”
Allegra looks up at me as if she’s forgotten I’m here. “I’m your new assistant. While you talk to the camera, I’ll grab the sample for you.”
Her eyebrows pull together. “I don’t need an assistant.”
“Come on, I’d look good in a lab coat.”
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but she shakes her head. “I can do it on my own, Marcus.”
“I’ll wade into the river. It means you don’t have to get your feet wet.”
The half-smile turns into a frown. “I’m not afraid of getting my feet wet.”
And just like that, her defenses are back up. I’ve said the wrong thing, and she’s so damn bristly. Her focus returns to the keyboard, and it’s useless to try to help now. After a week on the trail with Allegra, I already understand her determination veers into stubbornness fairly regularly.
“Suit yourself. But don’t complain that you missed the opportunity to have the best looking research assistant in North America.”
“The most humble too,” she mutters.
While she’s recording her piece on the camera, I leave my pack and take only my MOLLE. It’s got a handgun and a knife and will help me move quicker. With a lighter load, I go to check out the ridge.
The cliff is steep here, but I recall passing a place not far behind us that might have decent footholds.
I don’t like leaving Allegra out of my sight, especially when she’s engrossed in her work. From experience, I know she’ll take her time doing the recording and taking the sample.
I pull the sensors out of my pack and set a perimeter that takes in the area where Allegra sits and both our packs. At least I’ll receive an alert if something or someone approaches.
Then, I head back along the trail until I find a place with a pile of rocks left by a rockfall that I can easily climb.
My boots slip on loose pebbles as I free climb the twelve-foot cliff face. I use my legs to push up from the pile of loose boulders and find holds for my hands. I’ve climbed all the crags on Wild HeartMountain, and I’m up in the time it would have taken to secure a rope.
