Donovan wasted no time in getting Quinn back to the cabin. Halfway back, she had stumbled when she became dizzy from her head wound and he carried her effortlessly the remainder of the way. Once inside relative safety, he set her on her feet and watched her for a moment to make sure she was able to stand on her own.
"I'm fine, you big ox," she complained softly as she made a beeline for her belongings. "I'm going to wash the smell of that river off me while you contact DeWalt."
He nodded absently as he waited somewhat impatiently for her to gather her things before they headed for the stairs. He still didn't trust her to walk on her own and didn't want to see her falling down the stairs.
Quinn paused just outside the bathroom door. "And just how are you going to contact him?" she asked suddenly.
"He left me a message, as well as a Ham radio," he answered simply. "Don't take five minutes in there, and be careful," he insisted as he cupped her chin in his large hand and brushed his lips to hers. "I'd like to wash up, too, before the team gets back."
Quinn nodded and kissed him quickly before slipping through the door and closing it behind her. He made his way to the bedroom closet and opened the door. A small desk was hidden inside and the radio rested on its top. He switched the unit on and released a harsh growl when it failed to operate. He had tested it the previous day before he had gone to sleep, so he was certain it had been in perfect working order. Now it would not even spark to life.
When he reached for the unit, he saw a tiny screw lying beside it. He gingerly lifted the radio's cover and found that it came off without hesitation. He released a defeated sigh when he discovered that several fuses as well as the transmitter had been removed. He pulled out drawer after drawer, furiously searching for replacement parts, but found none. There was no way to call for help.
He slammed the closet door shut and returned to stand guard at the bathroom door. There was no safe place for them in their isolation and his mind worked furiously to decide their next step. He knew they could not stay in the cabin and wait for pickup, which would not arrive for two more days, but he also felt traveling back on foot presented too easy a target for whoever was after them.
Quinn opened the door to find Donovan leaning against the wall across the hallway. "Boy, you really are in a hurry for that shower," she commented absently as she straightened her shirt over her jeans. "Get a hold of DeWalt?"
"No," he answered shortly, taking her by the arm and leading her back downstairs. "The radio was tampered with."
Quinn's eyes widened. "You mean, whoever conked me on the head and left me for 'gator bait was in this cabin?"
Donovan nodded. "The radio was working last night, I tested it. I suppose there was plenty of time to get into the cabin and remove those parts while we were…"
Quinn plopped onto the sofa unceremoniously. "Saving my sorry ass," she supplied gruffly, burying her face in her hands.
Donovan crouched before her and removed her hands from her face. "Don't think like that," he insisted. "It won't help matters, and…" he trailed off as he gazed into her eyes. "There's no risk too great if it means keeping you safe."
She shook her head as she wound her arms about his neck, hugging him fiercely. "Shut up, before you make me cry," she whispered, nuzzling his neck. "God, Frank…I close my eyes and I keep seeing that 'gator drag you under the water. I was sure you were dead."
"Well, I'm not…"
"Thank God," she whispered, pulling away from him. "Now what? When were we scheduled for pick up?"
He moved to the coffee table and sat down on its hard surface. "Not for two days. We can either…" he trailed off as he heard commotion from outside. "We'll decide as a group what to do next. First, I'd like to hear what they've found."
Quinn nodded and sank back into the couch. She was beginning to feel lightheaded again. Sleep sounded good at that moment and she began to wonder if she had not sustained a concussion from the attack earlier. She closed her eyes and listened to the voices surrounding her.
"Jake?" Donovan inquired, standing as his team and Sam shuffled through the doorway.
"Whoever this is…is good at policing the area. Best we found was a cold camp less than a mile away from the cabin," he answered. "Footprints that went off in all directions. We followed a couple trails, but came up empty."
Donovan ran his fingers over his mouth as his mind digested the information Jake supplied. There were two scenarios to put before them, and, personally, he wasn't fond of either one.
"You haven't taken care of those," Monica stated, pointing to the bloody welts on Donovan's forearm. "I'll get the first aid kit."
He shrugged, having long forgotten the wounds. "We have an unknown assailant stalking us," he said, stating the obvious. "Our next decision has to be unanimous."
"What do you mean," Sam asked as he sat next to Quinn. "You okay, Quinn?"
Quinn's eyes fluttered open. It took her eyes several seconds to focus on Sam's face. "Yeah…tired. Donovan, you better tell them the whole shebang."
Donovan nodded and began a slow pace around the room. "As much as this 'evaluation' is legit, it is a lie." He heard the collective intake of breath from each of his team, signaling their surprise. "I apologize for the deception, but it was under Director DeWalt's orders in his attempt to make two of his people face their past."
Sam's eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze flitted from Donovan to Quinn. "Did you know about this?"
Quinn's forehead puckered into a confused frown as she steadied her gaze onto Sam. "How would I?
"It doesn't matter," Sam whispered.
"Let's focus here," Donovan admonished. "Whoever attacked Quinn managed to destroy the only form of communication we had with the outside world. DeWalt kept a Ham radio for emergencies and it has been tampered with."
"I'll have a look at it," Cody offered.
"It won't do any good," Donovan answered, shaking his head. "Key components have been taken and there were no replacements to be found."
"How convenient," he snapped, leaning against the back of the couch.
"We're scheduled to be picked up in two days," Donovan continued. "We can try to wait it out here, keeping a twenty-four hour watch…"
~*~
He listened intently as his prey decided their next step. He had to laugh at their stupidity, but if he did that he might give his position away. He wasn't ready for that yet, he still wished to play with them a bit longer. He had to admit that he was enjoying the show he had staged for himself.
It had been easy to take the parts for the radio, but as usual, Donovan had it all wrong. He had slipped into the cabin just after all his little people had left for their walks into the wilderness. He waited until Donovan had gone outside to talk with his little geeky team member and then tiptoed up the stairs unnoticed. No matter how good Donovan was, no one functioned at their peak without sleep. He was no exception. Between Quinn's attacks both nights, whether in anger or in lust, Donovan's sleep had been deprived. And the previous night, when Donovan was more concerned with bouncing his pretty little Quinny than sleeping, it only served to aid in bringing his awareness down a notch.
He grinned inwardly, replaying the scene at the river over in his mind. He had not anticipated the alligator. No, that had been most unexpected, and most appreciated. He had only meant another fright for the auburn haired beauty. When Donovan, the bastard hero that he is, jumped in the river and the alligator took him for a tumble into the murky depth of the river, he had nearly creamed his jeans with delight. The thought of that inflated big shot being gnawed upon by the alligator gave him a special happy. Sadly, Donovan's luck had held out and he scared the reptile off. He swore Donovan's good fortune was such that if a nuclear bomb went off next to him, like the cockroach that he was, he would survive to annoy the remainder of humanity.
He sighed as he listened to Donovan drone on and on about their next move. He smiled thinly. Soon, very soon, he would give them a little something to help them make their decision.
~*~
"…or we can hoof it out. Either way, we're pretty easy targets," Donovan concluded. He absently ran a hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck. He felt one hell of a headache coming on and did his best to push it aside so that he could focus on getting his people out of this situation.
"Neither scenario sounds good to me," Jake spoke up. "But I'd rather be a moving target than a stationary one."
"Agreed," Alex added while Monica merely nodded her head.
Donovan's gaze encompassed the room, noting each head nodded in agreement. It was unanimous. Just as he was about to speak, a slight ripping noise came from the front screen door as something whistled past Alex, barely missing her, and embedded itself into the wall.
Alex gasped and jumped back. "What the hell?!"
Donovan approached the wall quickly and removed the object, careful to keep out of the line of fire. He held the small arrow in his hand and unwrapped the small piece of paper that was tied to it. "Crossbow arrow," he commented offhandedly. "And a message."
"Special delivery, no doubt," Cody quipped humorlessly.
"No doubt," Jake echoed.
"What's the note say?" Sam asked, curious as Donovan's expression darkened as he read to himself.
Donovan looked up from the paper. "Death is calling, Donovan. I've been watching you for a long time. Search for me if you dare, but I know this area like the back of my hand -- pitfalls, traps, and all. Night is the same as day for me and I can promise you that I won't be the one falling into the quicksand."
When Donovan paused, Monica commented, "He's letting us know he's been watching us from the beginning."
He nodded and continued reading. "If you think you can get your people out alive, you're welcome to try. Run or stay; I'll get you either way." He perched himself on the arm of the couch next to Quinn. "That's it."
"If he wants you dead, Donovan," Sam began, "then why did he go after Quinn?"
Monica watched as he looked from Sam to Quinn and then each of his team. "I'll answer that for you." When he shrugged, she continued, "Because Quinn's death would mean mental suffering for Donovan." She focused her eyes on Donovan. "Just as each of our deaths would be significant to you…Quinn's would be even harder for you to handle, wouldn't it?"
Donovan broke Monica's gaze and looked down to lock eyes with Quinn. Her love for him shone brightly in their green depths. He nodded briefly, acknowledging her feelings and silently expressing the extent of his own. "Yes." So strangled with the emotions he struggled to keep under control, his voice was barely audible. "But the bottom line is that I want to get us all out of this."
Silence enveloped the room as each turned their thoughts inwards as they did their best to work out a plan to escape. It was several minutes later before anyone broke the uneasy quiet between them.
"There is a chance, it's slim, but if we can make it, we wouldn't have to travel on foot," Quinn spoke up suddenly.
"What are you talking about, Quinn?" Donovan asked, eyeing her curiously.
She took a deep breath and pushed off the couch and began pacing the room. His 'stay away from the windows and doors' caused her to change direction and remain stationary in the middle of the room. Her mind played out the reactions her suggestion would bring forth and she readied herself for the onslaught. "If we can make it to the river, not quite two miles south of here, DeWalt has a small motorboat housed there."
Donovan did his best to hide his shock, but the others did not even try. Collective gasps and shocked "What" mingled with looks of complete distrust and worry. "How do you know this?" he asked calmly, completely hiding the confusion he felt.
"I've been here before," she answered truthfully. When Donovan made to speak again, she cut him off by raising her hand. "I know I should have said something from the beginning, but I wasn't really all that comfortable telling you anything, because I thought you were assigned to pass final judgment on me and Sam and hand us our walking papers. Then it didn't really seem to matter if you knew or not...and I didn't want to spoil things."
"Spoil things," he echoed, completely thrown. "What else, Quinn?"
"I needed some down time, serious by myself, take-no-calls time and when I approached DeWalt, he sent me here. I was rather shocked when I realized where we were headed on this little exercise, but I figured he had his reasons," she explained. "And that's why I know about the boathouse. I used it many times during the two months I spent here."
"This is where you disappeared to that time?" Sam asked curiously.
"How convenient is that?" Jake snarled, completely taken aback and suspicious of her motives.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she barked at him. She was fuming at the realization that he suspected she was behind things. "Look, I didn't do this…whatever this is! I sure as hell didn't cozy up with that snake willingly! And please explain how I knocked myself out and tied myself to that log in the river."
"Jake, really…" Alex whispered.
Jake made a move toward her, but was stopped when Donovan stepped between them. "No one thinks you're behind this, Quinn," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your admission was just unexpected."
Quinn huffed and moved away from them to sit by herself. She knew Donovan was angry, his eyes had changed to ebony, giving that fact away. She really had meant to tell him, she just hadn't had the chance before all hell broke loose.
"Well, I just think it rather convenient that the only mode of communication was taken out and she's been here before and knows the layout of this land, too," he explained.
Quinn leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands. "I didn't mess with the radio…I want to get out of here as much as the rest of you do."
"I suggest we focus on that," Donovan inserted. "If we attempt to make the trip to the boathouse, we need to be very cautious."
"Very," Quinn agreed, standing. "And I suggest we book it now, while there's still daylight. We don't know what traps this guy has laid for us and we'll play hell trying to look out for them in the dark, as well as avoid quicksand and anything else Mother Nature throws at us."
"Good point," Donovan concurred. "Let's go. Grab a canteen and fill it; leave the rest," he ordered sharply.
~*~
To be continued…