Part 28 (2/2)
”Right.” Head packed two Glocks and a hundred rounds of ammunition. When head loaded the bag, head thought that if he didnat kill the Varinskis with a hundred rounds, he never would. But with Karen with him, one hundred rounds seemed pitifully few. With Karen here he wished he had an M16 machine gun. Or a tank. Anything to keep her safe.
”You think it was the Varinskis.” She helped him load the weapons. ”But couldnat it be a hunter?”
He strapped one pistol around his chest under his coat, and all the while he worked the possible scenarios for attack and defense. ”Anythingas possible.”
”Youare right.” She acknowledged the words he hadnat spoken. ”But not probable.”
”Youare a marksman, right?”
”My father made sure of that.”
As Warlord strapped a pistol around her, under her coat, he smiled into her face. ”Your father had his good points.”
”He prepared me for survival, thatas for sure. The old son of a b.i.t.c.h.” She sounded wistful.
He understood why. Head seen the conflicting emotions that roiled in her. She hated Jackson Sonnet for raising her without sentiment or softness. Yet at the same time head been her only parent, the constant in her life, and although she didnat want to admit it, she understood what a blow to his pride her motheras infidelity had been . . . and his best friendas betrayal. ”You miss him.”
She nodded. ”I guess I do.”
”When this is over weall go see him.” He put his knife up his sleeve. He hung the ropes on his belt by the snap links. Opening her bag, he said, ”Get the icon.” He wouldnat touch it. He still had the burns from the first time.
”Weare not taking the rest of our stuff?” She sorted through her clothes.
”Weave got to move fast.” He laid out their snowshoes.
She didnat argue. She didnat complain. She didnat lecture him on the environmental impact of leaving their equipment. She brought out the icon, then the picture frame. With swift motions she stripped out her motheras picture. She tucked them both in an inner pocket with a Velcro catch. Her skinning knife went in a pocket; her camping ax hung on her belt.
He strapped on his snowshoes.
She followed suit. ”Iam ready.”
”Youare a woman in a million.” He glanced at his portable GPS, and they moved out.
The going was downhill, but rugged. He kept them under cover where he could, avoiding deep s...o...b..nks, watching the skies, and listening for pursuit.
”Where are we headed?” she asked.
”The rendezvous with Jasha.”
”If heas not there?”
”That spot is the best defensive high ground I could find. Thatas why I chose it.”
”How did you foresee all this?”
”I prepared for every scenario.” He glanced back at her. ”When you meet my father, youall understand.”
”Am I meeting your father?”
”Heall want to meet my bride.”
”I havenat said yes.”
”Iam hopeful.” He grinned at her mulish expression, and faced front.
”How far do we have to go?”
”Are you tired?” The exercise was burning off the last effects of the venom. He felt good, yet the high alt.i.tude made his lungs fight for enough air. For all Karenas stoicism, she was completely human, and a girl.
”Iam fine.”
”I can carry you.”
She caught up with him. ”Look. I grew up hiking around the Rockies, and they make the Sierra Nevadas look like an overpa.s.s.” She fell back. ”So donat patronize me, mister.”
”Touchy.” He grinned as he felt the blast of her fury warm his back. ”Weare probably twenty miles from the wreckage. The bird hasnat found us yet.”
”The bird? You mean the falcon? I thought you killed it?”
”There are more. When theyare tracking theyall always bring at least one bird. Once it locates us weare prey, and itas just a matter of time before the pack arrives to finish the job. If we can get to the rendezvous first, and Jasha is there, weall have a chance. If heas brought reinforcements, that would be better.”
”How many reinforcements?” She began to sound hopeful.
”My brother Rurik.”
”Oh.” She was deflated.
”Donat discount my brothers. My father coached them. Coached us all. Theyare smart and vicious fighters.”
”So weave got a chance?”
”Sure. Thereas always a chance.” Not much of one, but the prospect of the fight cheered Warlord. He wanted that icon safely with his family. He wanted Karen where he could protect her. Most of all, he wanted to finish Innokenti. It was time to free himself of the fear that haunted his every footstep. ”Depends on how many men Innokenti brought. More than eight and weare in trouble.”
”Great,” she muttered.
”Remembera”you canat kill a Varinski. Theyare part of the pact, essentially demons from h.e.l.l.”
”Then what am I doing with a gun?”
”You can hurt them. You can protect yourself. ” They were making good time, but the next stretch was an old rock slide, clear of cover, with barely a tree to protect them from watching eyes, and a great, sheer pack of snow.
Warlord stopped at the top. ”No way around.”
”But a great way to make speed.” She pointed at a great old downed cedar. The bark was loose, and with a few swipes of her ax she held a piece as tall as she was and half as wide. She put it on the snow, pointing downhill, and took off her snowshoes.
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