Read Online Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) by Kaylea Cross - Free Book Online
Authors: Kaylea Cross
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them. There was no time to do more but this would hopefully conceal her position enough to keep her alive until she’d neutralized the threat.
A trickle of mud poured down the rocks to her left, scattering small stones and other debris with it.
She stared at it through the goggles, heart tripping in alarm. The sudden motion in the otherwise still landscape would draw the eye of anyone in the area looking for her. It could give her away.
She didn’t dare move, huddled beneath the hastily-constructed camouflage. A glance at the monitor showed the target should be coming into view any moment now. Poised with her eye to the scope, she waited for her prey to wander into her crosshairs. Any second now.
She slowed her breathing, ignored the physical discomfort of lying freezing on the muddy forest floor, watching. Step into my office, asshole.
But Mother Nature had other ideas.
Seconds later the trickle beside her turned into a small mudslide, slithering its way down toward the creek bed. Rocks and other debris began to tumble down the incline as it gained power, the sound carrying louder with every heartbeat.
Shit , she mentally cursed, and began backing up as fast as she dared, away from the noise that would draw attention.
Each careful shift of her body put her at risk. Whoever was out here would have night vision equipment too. Maybe even access to drones, though the terrain and weather would surely impede their effectiveness.
Regardless, she couldn’t stay here. She had no choice but to get to her hands and knees and crawl up the hill before her location was compromised.
Even sick as she was, her training took over, stopping her from obeying the instinctive reaction to get up and flee. Slowly, careful not to disturb the brush around her, she inched backward up the incline.
The angle was bad, making each movement awkward. Already weak from the fever, the muscles in her arms and legs shook with the effort. Her heart careened in her chest as her right hand slipped.
She threw out the left one blindly to catch herself and stop from sliding headfirst down the hill. The heel of it shoved against a sharp stone wedged into the mud, dislodging it.
A sickening burst of fear broke over her.
Frozen in place, Georgia watched in slow motion as the rock tumbled down the hill. It bounced and gained momentum, taking chunks of mud with it, each thud like a hammer blow against her pulsing eardrums.
She might as well have been lit up by a spotlight.
Shouldering her rifle, she pushed to her feet and ran up the hill, needing to get out of there immediately. She’d barely gone three steps when a hot, sharp pain lanced through her right hip.
She stopped short, an angry cry ripping from her lips. Stunned, she glanced down to see something sticking out of the side of her hip. Automatically she reached down and yanked it out, stared numbly at the dart in her hand.
Mother fucker .
Throwing it aside into the mud, desperate to escape before whatever the shooter had hit her with took effect, she put on a burst of speed and ran toward a trail that she knew ran close to the road.
She made it less than thirty yards before the drugs took hold. The world seemed to tilt sideways and no amount of struggle against it helped.
Her legs began to give out. She flung out a hand to grab for a supporting branch, missed. Her knees hit the ground with a jarring thud, then her hands. Already she could feel the weakness stealing through her veins. Paralyzing her.
Her gaze strayed to the right near the top of the ridge, where the shot had come from. She thought she saw something moving off to the far left up there, at the edge of her peripheral vision.
No. No , she screamed silently. It couldn’t end like this. She couldn’t die like this.
Her heart beat a frantic, desperate rhythm against her ribs. But she couldn’t move. Was already sinking under the pull of the drugs, her limbs too heavy to move.
She hit the forest floor facedown and lay there,
A trickle of mud poured down the rocks to her left, scattering small stones and other debris with it.
She stared at it through the goggles, heart tripping in alarm. The sudden motion in the otherwise still landscape would draw the eye of anyone in the area looking for her. It could give her away.
She didn’t dare move, huddled beneath the hastily-constructed camouflage. A glance at the monitor showed the target should be coming into view any moment now. Poised with her eye to the scope, she waited for her prey to wander into her crosshairs. Any second now.
She slowed her breathing, ignored the physical discomfort of lying freezing on the muddy forest floor, watching. Step into my office, asshole.
But Mother Nature had other ideas.
Seconds later the trickle beside her turned into a small mudslide, slithering its way down toward the creek bed. Rocks and other debris began to tumble down the incline as it gained power, the sound carrying louder with every heartbeat.
Shit , she mentally cursed, and began backing up as fast as she dared, away from the noise that would draw attention.
Each careful shift of her body put her at risk. Whoever was out here would have night vision equipment too. Maybe even access to drones, though the terrain and weather would surely impede their effectiveness.
Regardless, she couldn’t stay here. She had no choice but to get to her hands and knees and crawl up the hill before her location was compromised.
Even sick as she was, her training took over, stopping her from obeying the instinctive reaction to get up and flee. Slowly, careful not to disturb the brush around her, she inched backward up the incline.
The angle was bad, making each movement awkward. Already weak from the fever, the muscles in her arms and legs shook with the effort. Her heart careened in her chest as her right hand slipped.
She threw out the left one blindly to catch herself and stop from sliding headfirst down the hill. The heel of it shoved against a sharp stone wedged into the mud, dislodging it.
A sickening burst of fear broke over her.
Frozen in place, Georgia watched in slow motion as the rock tumbled down the hill. It bounced and gained momentum, taking chunks of mud with it, each thud like a hammer blow against her pulsing eardrums.
She might as well have been lit up by a spotlight.
Shouldering her rifle, she pushed to her feet and ran up the hill, needing to get out of there immediately. She’d barely gone three steps when a hot, sharp pain lanced through her right hip.
She stopped short, an angry cry ripping from her lips. Stunned, she glanced down to see something sticking out of the side of her hip. Automatically she reached down and yanked it out, stared numbly at the dart in her hand.
Mother fucker .
Throwing it aside into the mud, desperate to escape before whatever the shooter had hit her with took effect, she put on a burst of speed and ran toward a trail that she knew ran close to the road.
She made it less than thirty yards before the drugs took hold. The world seemed to tilt sideways and no amount of struggle against it helped.
Her legs began to give out. She flung out a hand to grab for a supporting branch, missed. Her knees hit the ground with a jarring thud, then her hands. Already she could feel the weakness stealing through her veins. Paralyzing her.
Her gaze strayed to the right near the top of the ridge, where the shot had come from. She thought she saw something moving off to the far left up there, at the edge of her peripheral vision.
No. No , she screamed silently. It couldn’t end like this. She couldn’t die like this.
Her heart beat a frantic, desperate rhythm against her ribs. But she couldn’t move. Was already sinking under the pull of the drugs, her limbs too heavy to move.
She hit the forest floor facedown and lay there,
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