Early the next morning Gideon found Emily gazing out the window, a pair of binoculars in hand. Outside the skies were gray and overcast. The storm had pretty much blown itself out overnight, but it was still lightly snowing. Big, plump snowflakes were lazily making their way to the ground. As he went to brew a fresh pot of coffee, he profiled the room and its other occupant. A hint of cleaning solvent and gun oil still hung in the air. Two rifles were now propped up near the front door for easy access and Emily's Glock rested comfortably on her hip. The dented pillow and rumpled blanket on the couch indicated she had laid down at some point during the night. How long she remained was anyone's guess.
"Did you get any sleep?" he asked, pressing a mug of hot coffee into her hand.
Emily jumped at the sound of his voice and the heat radiating from the mug. "Some," she admitted, no using lying about it since he could probably see the dark circles under her tired eyes.
She had managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep before getting up at the crack of dawn to assume her post at the window. She forwent her usual cup of morning coffee because she didn't want to wake anyone up with her clattering about the small kitchen. Her gut was still telling her that today was the day when there was a good chance that everything was going to hell in a handbasket and she needed to be prepared in advance.
"Same here," Gideon agreed, standing next to her and taking a sip of his hot brew. "I kept worrying about how this was going to play out."
She turned to him, eyes wide and innocent looking. "You snore when you're awake?"
"I don't snore," he snorted.
"Three people in this cabin can attest that you do. Noah said his mother's snoring is worse than yours, but I find that hard to believe."
"No I don't and that's the end of the discussion." People have told him before that he snored. He didn't believe it then so he wouldn't believe it now.
"Yes, you do," she chirped over the rim of her coffee mug.
He ignored her and let his eyes drift up to the cloudy skies. "Any chance of us getting out of here today?"
Emily followed his gaze. "The weather radio said the skies should be clear by late afternoon and if the wind continues to stay low, the helicopter my mother chartered should be able to reach us."
"Do you think that will happen before Renaud's goons find us?"
"My gut is telling me no. We'll just have to hold them off until reinforcements arrive. Knowing my mother like I do, the pilot and co-pilot won't be the only people on board."
"Want to go over the plan again?"
"Yes," she agreed with a nod. "I've made a slight change to it."
Last night over dinner with Noah and Amie listening intently, Gideon and Emily hashed out the details of a workable plan. They were in a difficult situation because of their location. Foreign governments frowned on visitors to their fair country killing some of their citizens even if said citizens were criminals. The papers giving Emily permission to carry her gun and their law enforcement backgrounds wouldn't help them. The last thing she wanted, and probably the bureau, was an international incident. But both agreed when push came to shove, they would take whatever action necessary to protect themselves and those in their care.
It was a simple plan. While Noah and Amie hunkered down in the outhouse, Emily and Gideon would lure their pursuers away and hopefully keep them occupied until the cavalry arrived…if they arrived. If they didn't, then all bets were off. Upon remembering the tree house, she knew it would be a safer place for the youngsters to hide. Before she had been worried that Renaud's goons might search the cabin and spot the footprints in the snow heading for the outhouse and go investigate. Now the two could simply climb out through the window and make their way to the tree house while the building concealed their trail from prying eyes. Gideon readily agreed to the change and would inform the two when they got up.
A short time later Noah and Amie were talking with Gideon, learning about the changes in the plan before they all sat down to eat. While that was happening, Emily stepped out of the cabin wanting to clear her head and get a better look at the area. She barely looked up before she spotted something in the distance that immediately made her tense. She brought the binoculars up, adjusted the focus and muttered a mild oath. A few miles out two snowmobiles were rapidly approaching. Their time had run out.
She rushed back inside. "They're coming. They're a few miles out, but they are heading in our direction."
"How many?" Gideon demanded as he jumped to his feet.
"It's hard to tell from this distance exactly how many men, but it's definitely two snowmobiles so I would have to say at least four men."
"Are they friend or foe?" Noah asked.
"It's too early to tell." Gideon took him by the shoulders. "Take Amie to the tree house and barricade the door as best you can. Under no circumstances do you open the door until you get the all clear from Emily or me. They may try to lure you out of hiding by pretending to be the police."
"We won't."
Uncle and nephew stared at each other like they were try8ing to burn this final moment in their minds afraid they would never see each other again. Then Gideon pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "I love you, Noah."
"I love you too, Uncle Jase. Be safe."
"You too."
On impulse Emily removed the Glock from her hip and pressed the weapon into Noah's hands. "Do you know how to use a gun?"
"No, but I'm a quick learner," he said. There wasn't a hint of nervousness or fear in his voice, only determination and Emily liked that. The young man was proving to be a chip off the old Gideon block. She gave him a quick run down on how the gun worked and when he nodded he got it, she said, "Don't fire unless you are in fear of your life and aim for the chest. You have the right to defend yourself and Amie."
"I will," he agreed and then surprised her by pulling her into a hug. "Be safe, Emily," repeating the same words of caution he had just given his uncle.
"I'll do my best and you do the same."
"Noah broke the embrace and then without another word he clipped the holster to his belt and donned his coat. Then he helped Amie on with hers. The French girl was also silent, the realization that this whole situation wasn't a grand adventure after all, but a matter of life and death. The horrible truth that she, and those with her, could actually die today was a hard slap to the face. Welcome to real world where your past actions could have serious consequences in the present.
Gideon and Emily watched the young couple disappear through the back door; both hoped that Noah wouldn't be forced to take another man's life. Both intimately knew what it felt like after killing your first person, even if they didn't give you any choice. It was a feeling that stuck with you for the rest of your life and neither wanted that sensation weighing down on Noah's shoulders for his. The two scrambled about making the cabin look like they would be returning shortly before shoving the boxes of ammo in the pockets of their winter coats. Then Emily and Gideon snatched up the rifles and took off on the snowmobiles.
Louis Aumont was a man of his word. He was going to do this job for Renaud, but then that was that. Next time he needed something, he'd have to go elsewhere. But he was doing this begrudgingly. He knew it was a bad idea and Renaud was just too much of an idiot to realize that. Aumont didn't know what happened nor did he want to, but he was positive the Amie woman was at the center of this whole fiasco. Often when a woman was involve, the man didn't think with his head, but with what was in his pants.
"Do you have everything?" Aumont asked his underlings, looking at their bags as he fished the keys for the snowmobile from his pocket.
Upon arriving at the winery, a worker with a set of loose lips let it slip that the owner's daughter had shown up unexpectedly and taken her friends up to the family cabin. A little bit of palm greasing got him the directions and they then retreated to the nearest town to rent a couple of snowmobiles. The cabin was inaccessible by car or by foot in the winter.
"Oui."
"Then lets go."
The three men nodded, one of them standing dutifully behind Aumont, waiting for him to hop onto the snowmobile before he did. All four mounted and revved the engines. As they started racing through the snowy mountain terrain and the moisture from the snow was kicked back into his face, all Aumont could think was how much he hated nature, hated the snow and cold, and most of all, he hated Renaud. This job was bad on all levels.
Aumont thought his nose was going to fall off from frostbite when the cabin came into view. He gestured for them to stop. Sitting on top of the idling machine, he studied they layout. Smoke lazily curled out of the chimney indicating they were home. He didn't see any movement inside so it seemed the occupants were unaware of their presence. They have the advantage.
"We go silent," he told his men. "Remember I want the Americans alive. Wounded is fine as long as it doesn't interfere with their ability to talk."
They all nodded, removed their guns from the bags and spread out as they cautiously approached. He indicated for two to go around back on the off chance there was another door. He didn't want his intended targets escaping out the back while they were storming the front. Aumont gave his men two minutes to get into position before testing the doorknob. It was unlocked and he smiled. What fools these Americans are, thinking they were safe because they were out in the middle of nowhere. On the count of three they burst in and found the cabin devoid of life.
"Where are they?" he growled in annoyance.
"They're not out back," one of the men volunteered. "There's another building that we checked out, but it was also empty."
"And there are snowmobile tracks leading off into the distance."
Aumont paused to consider the possibilities. Either the Americans were on to them and fled or they were simply out and would be returning soon. He was leaning towards the latter because he highly doubted they were even aware there was a price on their heads. But he also couldn't discount the first one so it was best if he covered both options. He pointed to the two men who had covered the back entrance. "You will stay here hidden with the snowmobile in case the Americans return. Marcel and I will follow the trail."
His underlings nodded and everyone trooped back outside, heading to where they had left the snowmobiles. Just as they reached them, the crack of a rifle being fired filled the air followed by the thud of a bullet striking the tree just about their heads. The men dove for the ground, sending up puffs of snow as they hit. Frantic eyes peered from snow-crusted faces searching the terrain for the shooter. One goon raised his head a little too high, the second shot taking the pompom off the top of his ridiculous looking hat without hitting him. He let out an unmanly squeak of fright and dropped his head back down.
From the copse of trees further up the mountainside, Gideon let out a low appreciative whistle. "Nice shot."
"Thanks," Emily said, looking up from the scope on the rifle. "Target practice with Grandpa. Mom about had a cow when she learned he was teaching me to shoot."
"I'm sure she's still not happy about it."
Emily straightened from where she had the rifle braced against the seat of one of the snowmobiles. "More like resigned since it's a requirement of the job."
"Looks like you got their attention," he observed.
Down below two of the men were scrambling for one of the snowmobiles while gesturing for the others to stay behind. Clearly he was the leader. Their pursuers were readily falling for their ploy. She and Gideon wanted to split them up and even the odds. They were city boys and not used to the great outdoors. They weren't used to the woods like Gideon and Emily were.
"You know what to do?" she asked, slinging the rifle over her shoulder and climbing onto the machine.
"Of course." There was no hint of his normal arrogance. "Get them lost while trying to avoid getting killed."
"And try not to get yourself lost. See you back at the cabin."
"Same to you." Neither wished each other good luck because both knew they needed all the luck they could get.
Emily nodded once, revved the engine and took off. As predicted, the men veered off to chase after her the second she burst out of the cover of the trees. So intent on trying to catch up with her, they failed to notice she was alone.
Gideon gave her a painful ten-minute head start, wincing every time he heard gunfire, before starting his snowmobile. The element of surprise was on his side. When the two men left behind heard him approaching, they would assume their comrades were returning and lower their defenses. He shot out of the trees and down the hill, making a beeline to the men who were busy stomping their feet and blowing on their hands in an attempt to stay warm. At the very last second he swerved to a stop, baring avoiding side swiping the snowmobile and sending the men scrambling for safety.
Gideon flipped up his goggles so the men could clearly see his face. "I believe you are looking for me?" The men gaped at him.
He had no clue if either understood English, but he didn't stick around to find out. Giving them a friendly wave, he took off like a bat out of hell. Cursing up a storm in French, they jumped on their snowmobile and followed him. Gideon didn't even know if they had taken the bait until he peeked over his shoulder. Driving like a man possessed, he weaved in and out of the trees, hoping his pursuers would be clumsy enough to blunder into a tree at full speed or that he could put enough distance between them so that he could hide and lose them permanently. Behind him the men struggled to keep up, this being the first time either has ever been on a snowmobile. As the driver concentrated on not crashing, the other fired off round after round trying to pick Gideon off, but the constant zigzagging kept throwing off his aim.
The two snowmobiles burst into a clearing, turning the chase into an outright race. If he weren't running for his life, Gideon would have found the whole thing exhilarating. Flying over pristine snow, the wind whistling in his ears, the cold nipping at his face and the now bright blue with the occasional puffy cloud. It all felt so freeing. A sharp pain in his arm brought him abruptly back to the present, almost causing him to lose control.
"Son of a bitch, they shot me," he sworn.
He hunkered down, trying to make himself a smaller target and hit the throttle. The machine jumped forward, putting more distance between him and his pursuers. Spotting a cluster of trees ahead, he headed in that direction needing to get back under cover. As he did, Gideon heard a loud thumping noise over the roar of the engine. At the same time a dark shadow passed over him. He risked looking up, finding himself gazing at the bottom of a military helicopter and grinned. Emily's mother had come through; the cavalry had arrived in the nick of time.
The copter swooped down on the other snowmobile, shots being fired from the man leaning half way out the open side door with one foot on the runner to brace him. The snow around the snowmobile erupted as the rounds tore into it. Startled by the sudden appearance of the helicopter and bullets flying around him, the driver lost control. The snowmobile hit a small hard mogul and began airborne, slamming into a clump of very solid tree trunks. The men tumbled to into the snow and laid there unmoving.
Gideon brought his machine to a stop and watched as the pilot of the copter set it down with a gentle bump about fifty yards from him. As soon as the rotors slowed, the man who had done the shooting hopped out and hurried over to him. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and appeared to be in his late forties. Another man went to check out the men.
"Are you Jason Gideon?" he asked with British accent.
"I am. You must be the help Ambassador Prentiss sent."
The man ignored the rest of his statement, eyes busy scanning the mountainside. "Where's Emily?"
"She's leading the second group of men away from the cabin and my nephew."
"Bloody hell," Clyde Easter swore. "She's taking the fight to them instead of waiting for backup…again. When will she ever learn?"
Gideon was very curious about the again part, but now wasn't the time for it. She was still in danger. "We need to help her."
Easter turned his gaze back to him. "Do you know what direction she went in?"
"I do."
"Show us."
The two men, united in their fear for Emily's safety, hurried back to the copter. The other man remained behind to guard the prisoners who were lucky enough not to have been killed in the collision. They were battered and bruised, but they would live.
Within minutes the helicopter was back in the air and streaking in the direction Gideon on pointed them in. All eyes, squinting against the sun glare, scanned the ground looking for any signs that a snowmobile had past by this way. The trail was soon spotted and in no time did they catch sight of the two snowmobiles, but it was what they also saw that chilled them to the bone.
"Oh my god!"