Page 24 of Lethal Illusion (Six Points Security #8)

By the time they reached the hill’s crest, the sun had begun its descent below the tree line, casting the land in a soft orange glow. Every muscle in Sloane’s body ached with exhaustion, but standing atop the summit filled her with a profound sense of accomplishment.

She peered down at the valley below, nestled between two towering ridges, its floor dotted with clusters of trees and meandering streams. It was the first time since fleeing into the forest that she’d actually taken the time to appreciate the beauty all around her.

Under different circumstances, it would have been relaxing, peaceful.

But she couldn’t look at it that way, not with a group of heavily armed mercenaries hot on their heels.

“This looks like a good place to stop for the night.” Navarre slipped the rucksack off his shoulders and set it on the forest floor. “It’s high, dry, relatively flat, and I can use that fallen tree over there to build us a shelter.”

She followed his gaze to the massive pine, its trunk snapped a few feet above the soil. The tangled twist of limbs still bore a touch of green, and she assumed there was more than enough material for shelter construction. However, with night fast approaching, time was of the essence.

Already, the air had turned crisp, with the temperature expected to dip near freezing overnight. And while the creep’s camo jacket had kept her warm during the day’s long hike, she doubted its insulation would be enough to keep her comfortable until the sun’s return the following morning.

“I assume a fire’s out of the question.”

As expected, he nodded, but at least he didn’t look happy about it either. “I’m sorry, but it could lead them straight to us.”

After hiking for hours that felt like days, Sloane wasn’t in the mood to argue.

Her legs were tired, her feet were killing her, and the persistent throb that lurked in her temples was getting harder to ignore.

Besides, she knew he was right. Although a fire would be nice and cozy, she’d rather feel safe enough to close her eyes and get a few hours’ rest. “How can I help?”

Hands on his hips, Navarre scanned the area, his gaze sharp and assessing. “We need materials to build a shelter: moss, leaves, branches, stuff like that. See what you can find and bring it here.”

She gave him a mock salute. “I’m on it.”

It didn’t take long to gather enough supplies to create a makeshift shelter. Only it didn’t look like a shelter by the time Navarre was finished. It didn’t look like much of anything at all, which she assumed was the point.

Instead of building a structure resembling a tent or a lean-to, he’d used the materials to create a burrow of sorts, a hidey-hole carved along a stretch of the fallen tree that blended in with the twisted branches and surrounding vegetation.

If she hadn’t watched him build it, she wouldn’t have even noticed it was there.

“Did they teach you how to do that in the Army?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Part of a sniper’s job is to blend with his or her environment.” He cast her an assessing glance. “How are you holding up? I’m sorry; I should have asked earlier.”

“I’m okay.” That was a lie. She fully expected to wake up tomorrow morning feeling like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz : stiff, creaky, and in desperate need of oil. But he didn’t need to know that. “My feet are just a little sore. These boots aren’t built for hiking.”

That was the understatement of the day. Boots like these were made for a night at the club, not time in the great outdoors. It was a wonder she hadn’t lost a heel yet, though she was pretty sure they’d rubbed blisters on both feet.

Navarre’s gaze slid down to her feet. “Take your boots off.”

“What—why?” She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “They’re not great, but they’re better than nothing.”

His expression remained unchanged. “I don’t want you to get rid of them; just take them off for a few minutes.”

“Again, why?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Don’t you trust me?”

“That’s not the point,” she said. “My feet are swollen from walking all day. If I take them off, I might not be able to get them back on.”

“Sure you will.”

“And what happens if we need to get moving in a hurry?”

His voice softened, as though he were trying to reason with a child. “From this vantage point, I can see if anyone’s coming from a good distance away. You’ll have plenty of time to put your shoes back on.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know…”

“What’s the problem, Sloane?” His lips curved up on one side. “Do you have some sort of puritanical fear of an adult man seeing your bare ankles?”

“No, not at all.”

“Do your feet look like they should be attached to a creature that can swoop down over a lake and snatch a fish out of the water?”

Laughing, she swatted his shoulder. “My feet aren’t the most attractive part of my body, but they don’t look like they belong on a dragon.”

“Then there shouldn’t be any problem.” He sat on the forest floor and unzipped his rucksack.

She lowered herself to the ground beside him, and she could have sworn her muscles gave a collective sigh of relief. “Do you have some sort of foot fetish that I don’t know about?”

“Quit stalling and take off your boots.”

Resigned to her fate, she blew out a breath. “Fine.”

She unzipped her boots, and the simple act of tugging them off felt as if she’d released a pressure valve. It was like her feet had been holding their breath all day and could finally exhale.

Navarre shifted position and propped her feet onto his lap. He picked up her right foot, used his thumbs to apply pressure to her arch, and she couldn’t stop from moaning out loud.

“Oh God, that feels good.”

He did it again, applying a little more pressure this time, and she clamped her jaw shut to keep from making more noise.

“Who taught you how to do that?” she finally managed to choke out.

His hands stilled a moment before he continued his ministrations. “Buddy of mine in the Army.”

Okay, she hadn’t expected that answer. It snapped her out of her massage-induced brain fog. “A buddy?”

“You learn a lot of weird shit when you’re stuck with each other in the middle of nowhere for an extended period of time.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

His hands moved from her arch to the ball of her foot, gentle strokes soothing tired muscles, and it felt so incredibly good, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her skull.

“There was this time. I don’t know, maybe six or seven years ago.

We were sent to an outpost as part of an operation to neutralize insurgent forces in the area. ”

“When you say neutralize, you mean kill, right?”

“Not always, but that was the general understanding for this op. Anyway, we cleared out a few cells that had been working in the area before winter set in. All in all, the locals were pretty happy about it. They invited us to the village for a celebratory feast of…well, I assumed it was goat, but who knows.”

He gave each toe individual attention, and she could feel the stress leaving her body.

“Then things got quiet. And cold, really cold. But we still had to go out on patrols, because you have to make sure new insurgents don’t move in and take the place of the old ones.

A day out in the rocky terrain is murder on your feet.

One of the guys in my unit was dating a massage therapist. He showed us a thing or two. ”

Finished with her right foot, he switched to the left and gave it the same glorious treatment. “He was a good guy, one of the best I ever served with, the type who always found a way to get along with anybody. He was planning to ask the therapist to marry him the next time he went home on leave.”

“Are you still in touch?”

“No.” A shadow crossed his features. “Our convoy got ambushed the following spring. The armored vehicle Cory was driving got hit with a rocket. Poor bastard was still alive when we pulled him out of the wreckage. The damage to his body was so extensive the medic didn’t know where to start.

” Navarre had a faraway look in his eyes, as though he were reliving the memory.

“Long story short, he never got to marry the therapist.”

Sloane’s heart ached for him. She couldn’t imagine what the experience had cost him, and she doubted that was the only loss he’d endured during his time on active duty. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You’re not the prick who killed him.”

True, but she hadn’t meant to dredge up painful memories. “Did you ever catch the guys who did it?”

Navarre nodded. “The village elders didn’t want to get involved, but we finally convinced them to let us know where to search for the men responsible.

We found them two days later, camped out in the mountains less than a kilometer from the border.

We waited to strike until around two in the morning, when there was only one person guarding the encampment.

I took out the guard, and my team took care of the rest. It didn’t make Cory any less dead, but at least we made sure those assholes wouldn’t send anyone else home in a body bag. ”

Finished massaging her feet, he reached into his rucksack for the first-aid kit.

“What’s that for?”

“You have broken blisters on both heels. They need to be treated.”

That didn’t surprise her in the least. Her feet had been aching for hours.

But she didn’t feel right about using their limited resources for something that wasn’t a dire emergency.

“Is that really necessary? I mean, yeah, it hurts, but it’s not life threatening.

Wouldn’t it be better to save that stuff in case we really need it, like if one of us gets shot or falls off a cliff? ”