The Killing Game by Anderson Toni

Author:Anderson, Toni [Anderson, Toni]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Toni Anderson
Published: 2013-03-27T05:00:00+00:00

***

The blizzard smashed him in the face like a C-130 transport. He stopped and pulled on more layers of clothes, including his white snow gear. He held tight to the horse because it was spooked now the wind had started to bay. Tracks were obscured and he knew his squad would need to find cover or hunker down.

It was so cold the air sank into his lungs and burned soft tissue. Dempsey pushed on, needing to get himself and the horse out of the elements and into some shelter before they fell off the side of a cliff. He shielded his face against the onslaught and stilled as he saw a movement off to his right. For a split second there was a mirage of the tall spare-framed man they’d been chasing for days. A sweep of horizontal flakes obscured his vision before clearing again and the figure was gone. He stared harder through the whiteout. There was a narrow fissure in the side of the mountain—a fissure where someone had stood moments before.

Holy fuck. He pulled out his GPS unit and entered the coordinates of where he stood, along with an estimate of the position of the cave, then he pulled the horse onward, grateful for the gelding’s smoky coloring that faded into the blizzard, and the howling gale that blew their trail into oblivion. He rounded a craggy boulder, his boots slipping over the slick surface, and spotted another opening in the side of the mountain big enough for himself and the horse to squeeze into. His boot crunched and he looked down to see pale bone shards scattered about the floor. The horse’s nostrils flared.

“Easy, buddy, relax.” Dempsey rubbed his hand over the animal’s soft nose until he settled. In the dimness he saw more bones and scraps of fur. The irony of ending up in the lair of a snow leopard wasn’t lost on him.

He kicked the bones out of the way and walked a little further into the cave, letting his eyes adjust to the murk. There was an empty, unused feel to the den. Maybe it belonged to one of the poor bastards the Russian had shot.

He undid the horse’s girth, sliding the saddle free from the animal’s back and taking it to the opening of the cave where the blizzard battered his face and made his ears hurt. He dumped the saddle and his bergen on the floor and pulled out the satellite phone. He tried the PRR first but got nothing but static. The rest of the team was miles behind, possibly days away in these conditions. He was on his own.

His thoughts turned to Axelle. Was she hurt? Of course she was hurt. Shit, she was in a cave, which was her worst nightmare—not to mention having been kidnapped. Anger squeezed him inside and he forced himself not to think about her. He’d get her out of there. He’d save her and catch the old bastard who’d been running them in circles for days.

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