The Hill - BLACKBIRD book 5

10. up the hill

Gillian halted at Fred's warning. She heard that the voices seemed to gather at the foot of the hill, right below her. She walked again, her heart hammering to a choking point. If they were coming her way, it meant they'd found some trace that led them there. So the stupid bitter man had come up the hill after all. And not far from where she was.

More than ever, she wished she could call him out. Or at least use her flashlight. She'd known all along Russell would take the worst part of the beating. But there was no way Brock was spared. And he couldn't be in a good shape, or he would've already reached the post. So he was beaten and wounded out there, somewhere. Maybe unconscious, maybe even dying, and she hadn't been able to find him yet.

"How many?" she asked.

"Can't tell. At least four."

"Coming," said Ron. "Hank! You're on here!"

"Got it."

Gillian hurried down the trail, to get closer to the point the men were converging to. While Fred and Ron traded short words to coordinate their moves, she came to a fallen tree. The huge mossy trunk crossed the trail, the branches hanging down the slope. She stopped there and scanned around as she grabbed her flashlight and aimed it along with her Glock. If any of those scumbags showed up, she could try to blind them as she shot.

"They're going up, Reg. Find somewhere to hide, I'm coming after them."

Gillian crouched to walk out of the trail along the massive trunk. A few steps away, it rested against a tree surrounded by bushes. That was a good place to hide, so she hurried to take cover there. She could hear them coming closer up the slope, and saw the reflection of their flashlights on the lower branches across the trail. Keeping her eyes on the slope, she brushed apart the nimble branches of a bush—had to be a thorny bush! Great! Then she sneaked backwards into the gap.

To find it was already taken.

Her foot touched something that moved away from her. She looked down and saw the dark shape curled up against the tree, and it let out a muffled sound. Then she registered the stink. Vomit, blood, dirt. A chill run down her spine as her eyes widened in horror.

"Agent Brockner...?" she tried in a thread of voice.

The answer was an angry bark from the trail. "Here! The son of a bitch crawled this way!"

"What!? C'mon! He could hardly move!"

Gillian fell on her knees by Brock, who shrank with a suffocated moan.

"There! I just heard something!"

"Fred?" breathed Gillian.

"Almost there! Hang on!" whispered the sniper.

Then she saw the beams of light showing up the slope, and the shadows of the men behind them. They spread out to surround her position. Brock squirmed again with another low growl.

"Heard it? He's behind that trunk!"

Gillian didn't know what was wrong with Brock, but she couldn't find out with those bastards lurking closer. So she dropped the backpack and the flashlight to draw the other Glock. She breathed deep and jumped to her feet. Two shots. Two angry cries. Two flashlights down as she crouched again.

"Reg?" breathed Fred.

"Fallen tree."

Brock stirred, trying to kick her away, as if caught in a nightmare. The hunters left—at least two—were very quiet now, and still approaching her position. She tried to crouch even lower, but Brock almost threw her to the ground. Gillian leaned to him, standing the stench to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Quiet, sir! It's me, Gillian!" she whispered.

But Brock struggled harder—what a surprise, him pushing her away. Gillian risked a glance over the trunk. In the glow of the fallen flashlights, she spotted a man across the trail, crawling toward her like a snake. She cocked her Glock, about to shoot the man, when a noise from the other side caught her attention. She turned to look, in time to see the barrel of a rifle showing from behind another bush, pointing at her. She shot that way, at the same time the crawling man jumped up and ran to her. Another shot sounded from the lower slope and the man tripped and fell, face to the ground, just when Gillian spun to him.

"You okay?" panted Fred, out of her sight.

"Yeah."

"One got away up the hill. Stay with Brockner. Ron, watch the foot of the hill."

Gillian had a glimpse of Fred, a silent shadow sneaking up the slope. Before she could catch her breath and pay any attention to Brock, Tanya called on the radio.

"Reg! Balken's men escaped the buildings and now they're retreating into the woods!"

"Heads up, guys! They're going your way!" said Kurt.

"Shit!"

A dull shot echoed from the higher slope. "Coming down," said Fred.

"Ron, Fred! I need you to cover me here!" said Gillian. "Hank! Call the Tacs to push them away from the hill!"

"And the sheds!" added Aldana. "Else, we won't be able to extract Russ!"

Fred crossed the trail like a blur of motion, running down the hill. "Ron! Meet me at the stream!"

"The rock past it!" Ron replied. "We can make a stand there!"

"A Tac team's going to meet you from the northwest end to lend a hand," said Tanya. "They'll be there in ten minutes tops."

"That's forever!" cried Aldana.

"Shit!" snarled Kurt. "The chopper's almost here, but they have nowhere to land!"

"Tell them to stay out of sigh so Balken's men don't try to shoot it down," said Fred.

"It should circle the compound over the lake and reach the sheds from the north," said Hank.

A moment later Tanya said, "Going around. It'll be over the sheds in a few minutes."

"Two at your ten, Fred!" warned Ron.