Page 49 of Unknown

As she walked, she heard the sound of twigs snapping underfoot. She held her breath, straining to hear any other noises.Just in case. If he'd spotted them moving in, and he was heading out, he might disturb leaves, or rustle branches, or create a discord in the rhythm of the woods that she could pick up.

But it was difficult with the weather so unsettled, and with the afternoon closing in to evening, and with a gusty wind picking up and swirling through the treetops.

Then, a louder rustling of leaves behind her caused Cora to freeze in her tracks. She remained still, listening intently, and then she heard it again.She thought someone was coming this way.

Footsteps, regular and firm, were treading in her direction.

Was this him, hurrying back to his base camp? Or was it an innocent hiker simply passing through?

Cora didn't want to take any chances. She quickly scanned her surroundings for a place to hide, just in case this was Boris. She needed to keep the initiative if it was, even though there was no sign of a wooden cabin with a white roof as yet.

However, there was a large tree with a thick, gnarled trunk ahead of her, and it was going to provide the cover she needed. Quickly, moving as quietly as she could, she stepped off the trail. Picking her way through the undergrowth, she got herself all the way behind the trunk, and looked out.

The passing man seemed like a regular hiker. He was a gray-haired man who was striding along the trail with the ease of familiarity, holding a stick in his right hand, whistling a tune as he walked. For a moment, Cora felt a sense of unreality. Here they were, hunting a killer in a perilous situation, and yet, life was going on for other people. This man was strolling through the woods, unaware, on what was probably a regular afternoon walk.

She watched him go, waited until the sounds of his footsteps and the soft humming of his voice had died down.

And it was then that she heard another sound, from a hundred yards or so ahead.

A furtive rustling noise, as if someone else had been disturbed by the passing hiker and had also hidden away for safety's sake. And that this person was now coming out of his hiding place. That was what it sounded like to her.

Hardly daring to breathe, Cora trod forward as silently as she could, trying her best to narrow the distance without making a noise, knowing that all it would take was one dry stick under a covering of leaves to sound a sharp alert. She could see something ahead. There was movement in that thick bank of trees.

And then, in an explosion of noise, a form erupted, so fast and violently that she gasped in a breath and then clamped her lips together to stop herself from making a sound.

And then, a runaway deer burst out of the undergrowth and headed down the trail at a panicked run.

A deer. Only a deer. She'd let an animal spook her.

Cora let out a breath. This forest was getting to her. It was starting to make her hear things that didn't exist. She needed to pull herself together and calm the hell down.

She walked forward, and it was then that she saw it. In the exact place the deer had erupted.

A narrow path, almost invisible in the thick undergrowth, led to the place they’d been looking for. Ahead, she saw a cabin with a white painted roof.

Cora dug in her pocket for her phone, ready to call Gabe and tell him that she'd found it.

But she never made the call. As she pressed the buttons, she heard something from behind her and spun around.

Standing there was a man in camouflage. He had streaky brown-blonde hair tied back in a straggly ponytail, and a crazed look in his eyes.

And in his hand, he was holding something Cora recognized with a sense of dread. A military issue grenade.

"I've been tracking you ever since you turned in this direction. I know you’re hunting me, but you’re not going to get me. And I’m going to pull the pin on this," he hissed at her, his voice hoarse. "Unless you do exactly what I say."

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Cora froze, not daring to move a muscle. This situation had just taken a whiplash turn into dangerous territory. This was Boris, without a doubt. And he was on the edge. His expression was drawn and intense. There was a crazed light in his pale blue eyes that made her believe he would do exactly what he threatened.

He was clutching the grenade tightly. The grenade itself looked as real as any she'd ever seen. She thought she was a good judge of that, after her Navy SEAL days. They'd trained with, located, and deactivated a few of those in their time.

No choice, then. No time to go for her gun, or to rush him. She’d need to play along with him, just until she could get that weapon out of his grasp.

Cora slowly raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. If he pulled the pin, they would both die. This was not a game of chicken that she could win.

She tried to keep her voice icily calm as she answered him.

"I’m doing what you asked,” she said. “I’m no threat to you. So why not put that grenade down?”

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