The Untamed Hunter

Sitting back in the expensive leather wing chair, Maggie sighed. “You’ve got a wonderful guy. But I think you know it.”

Casey’s eyes grew soft. “Yes, I do. But he knows he’s got a wonderful woman, too.”

Grinning widely, Maggie said, “With that kind of respect for one another, a marriage is sure to last.”

“Humph, unlike these two-to-five-year throwaway marriages I see littering the landscape everywhere I look.”

“Well,” Maggie said, “those people marry too young. They don’t take the time to get to know the other person—or themselves.” She grimaced. “I almost made that mistake back in college. I learned my lesson, believe me.” She took another sip of tea. “I’d rather be single than make the same mistake twice.”

Casey nodded. She knew Maggie had come close to getting married a couple of times in the seven years she’d worked at OID. Both relationships had fizzled. And both times the reason had been that the man wanted to control Maggie, who, being a very modern woman, wasn’t about to kowtow to any man. It had to be an equal partnership or she wasn’t going to even think about getting involved. Too many men still felt it was their right to tell a woman what to do. Fortunately, Maggie had the grit, the confidence in herself to know better. Still, Casey held out hope for the brilliant, courageous medical doctor. Someone would come along who truly appreciated everything she brought to the table.

“So, what’s this dangerous mission?” Maggie inquired.

“This is really dangerous, Maggie. It’s not like you gallop pell-mell down a steep hill to a four-foot jump, believe me.”

Leaning forward, she said, “Tell me more.”

Seeing the glint in Maggie’s eyes, Casey knew she’d chosen the right person for this mission. “Okay, here’s the skinny on it.” She flipped open another page of the top secret file. “I got a call from Perseus last Friday. They are a supersecret government entity that works deep behind the scenes with our national security agencies. Morgan Trayhern, the head of Perseus, asked me for a volunteer from OID because there’s a bioterrorist group active in the United States right now. Some of Morgan’s people just captured one of their top people, a professor who possessed genetically cloned anthrax bacteria. They’ve found out from this professor that the terrorists are trying to get more anthrax because Morgan’s people captured their only supply.”

Maggie nodded and finished off her cup of tea. “We have it here, in our lab. The only material known in the U.S.A.”

“Right, which is why the spotlight has shifted to the OID.” Casey frowned. “Black Dawn isn’t a wasted word on you.”

“No…it’s not.” Maggie set the cup and saucer on Casey’s large desk. “Don’t tell me they’re involved in this?”

“Up to the gum stumps,” Casey muttered unhappily. “They are the slickest, most professional and dangerous bioterrorist threat in the world today.”

“Ouch.” Maggie stood up and slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “So, how do we figure into this odd equation?”

“In a very interesting way, believe me,” Casey said admiring the tall, proud way Maggie carried herself. There wasn’t an ounce of spare fat on her frame. Maggie was the picture of bravery and steadiness, in Casey’s opinion, and she would need all of that—and then some—if she took this mission.

“Morgan is setting a trap for them. Well, several traps, to flush the rest of Black Dawn’s operatives in the United States into the open. I’ve approved his plan. What Morgan needs is a decoy from OID to tip their hand.”

“Hmm, sounds fascinating,” Maggie said, slowly walking to the windows and looking out through the blinds. Outside the OID building were long, sloping green lawns and huge live oaks. Maggie often looked out to the huge, centuries-old oak trees when faced with a new challenge at work. The sight of the trees comforted her, as they typified the South, where she was born.

“Well, let’s see if you continue to think that,” Casey said, glancing over her shoulder. She saw Maggie’s oval face grow pensive. Even though she was a risk taker of the first order, when things got serious, Maggie could walk her talk. She wasn’t irresponsible when the chips were down.

Fingering the file, Casey turned another page. “Here’s the plan. Morgan wants to draw Black Dawn out. The only way we can do that is to set up a decoy situation. We know they’ve lost their genetically altered anthrax, because the FBI found it on Kauai, Hawaii. Black Dawn will want more. Morgan will rig a call that we know Black Dawn has bugged, alerting them to the fact that OID is sending a vial of it north, up to the army base in Virginia. That’s where you come in, Maggie. You will be the official courier responsible for getting this vial up there.”

“That’s really interesting,” Maggie said, turning and studying Casey. “And then Black Dawn will descend upon me to get the vial, right?”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” Opening her hands, she added, “Of course, you’ll be well guarded. I don’t want you to think we’re throwing you out to the terrorists like a bone to a dog.”

Chuckling, Maggie walked back and sat down in front of Casey. “I figured as much. So, you need my shooting ability because Black Dawn plays hardball, right?”

“Yes,” Casey said unhappily. “I tried to persuade Morgan to send a policewoman, or a woman from the military, but he argued that Black Dawn might not go for the trap because they’d know a member of OID was not involved. We always send along one of our virologists with any shipments in transit from OID.”

“SOP,” Maggie said. “Standard operating procedure.”

“Yes.” Casey tapped her fingers against the file. “This is going to be very dangerous, Maggie. I don’t like the plan. I understand it, but I don’t have to like it. Putting you in danger is my biggest worry. Black Dawn plays rough. The FBI has promised full cooperation with Perseus on this mission. You’ll be well guarded, but that’s no guarantee. I told Morgan of my concern over this. They can’t just put you in a car with the case containing the vial and tell you to drive from Atlanta to Virginia by yourself. He agreed. So he’s sending his top mercenary with you.”

“Ah, company,” Maggie said with relief. She rolled her eyes. “At least I’ll have company on this trip.”

“You always have a sense of humor,” Casey muttered worriedly.

With a short laugh, Maggie shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’ve been in some pretty dire circumstances when I ride that wild horse of mine. And I’ve felt some serious pressure while trying to win a pistol shooting award for OID. Either way, no matter what the stakes, it’s pressure. I thrive on it. You know that.”

“Well, how’s the mission sound so far?”

“Okay,” Maggie said. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Frankly, I’d like to flush some of those bioterrorists out of the woodwork. If I can be of help, I’m volunteering. I’m sure the FBI is going to shadow us.”

“They will, but they can’t shadow you so close as to scare off Black Dawn. It’s going to be dicey, Maggie. They could strike at your hotel room, or when you’re driving on the interstate…anywhere. You’ve got to be on full alert a hundred percent of the time.”

“As long as you give me a flak jacket to wear—not that I like those things, they are so uncomfortable—and a Beretta pistol to carry, I’m game.”

Drilling her with a searching look, Casey asked, “You’re sure about this? You do want to take the mission?”

“Why not? What else am I doing, anyway? I’d like to think my life counts for something, and if I can help bag the bad guys, that will make me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile for humanity.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Maggie. I don’t know about your logic, though,” Casey said, scratching her brow nervously.

Reaching across the desk, Maggie shook her finger at Casey, “Listen, big mama hen in the sky, I’ll be fine! I’m an OID sharpshooter, remember? Our team is number three in the U.S. We’ve got a shot—pardon the pun—at the next Olympics. I intend to keep leading the team. I’d love to try for gold.”

Grudgingly, Casey nodded, “I think you’re a twenty-year-old inside that thirty-six-year-old body.”

Laughing heartily, Maggie got up. She was never one to stay still for long. Circling the office, hands stuffed into the pockets of her lab coat, she chuckled. “I’m a big kid at heart. And okay, so I take a lot of chances riding my horse in those events. I know what I’m doing, Casey. I’m good at what I do.” She turned and looked at her supervisor, who was more like a big sister to her. “I’m right for this mission and you know it or you wouldn’t have asked me to volunteer for it.” With a shrug, she said, “Besides, I don’t have a family. I’m single. No kids. I’m the perfect person for it.”

Turning another page in the file, Casey nodded. “You’re right,” she conceded. “Morgan was hoping you’d take it. Black Dawn knows who our best virologists are. You’re listed as number three here at OID. That’s as good as it gets. If Black Dawn knows you’re the courier, Morgan is sure they’ll make a play to capture you and the anthrax vial. There’s no question in his mind.”

“For once,” Maggie said, “my list of credentials will really impress someone.”

With a sour grin, Casey joined in with her laughter. Maggie had graduated from Harvard University at the head of her class. She’d brought millions of dollars in grant money with her when she decided to make the OID her home. In the world of virology, Maggie had more than made her mark. She was known around the world for her abilities and for her pioneering work in the field.

“Well, now that you’ve decided to take the mission, this is your escort.” Casey handed over an eight-by-ten color photo of a man. “He’s one of the top mercs at Perseus. A specialist in undercover work.”

Still smiling, Maggie reached out and took the photo. When she turned it around, she gasped. The photo tumbled out of her hand.

Casey saw Maggie blanch. “What is it?” She watched as the photo fluttered from Maggie’s frozen fingers to the carpeted floor, saw Maggie’s eyes widen with shock and then pain. Automatically, Casey got up and moved around the desk. She picked up the photo. As she stood to her full height and her gaze locked on Maggie’s, she saw tears in her friend’s eyes. But just for a moment. The tears quickly disappeared and Casey saw anger in those hazel eyes, instead.

“What’s going on, Maggie?” She held the photo out to her.

“Oh, Lord,” Maggie croaked. She took a step away from Casey and the proffered photo. “You aren’t serious, are you?” She jabbed a finger at the photo. “Do you know who that is? Do you have any idea?”

Nonplussed, Casey looked helplessly at the photo. “Well, yes…Shep Hunter. He’s Reid’s older brother.”

A strangled sound issued from Maggie’s throat. She wheeled away and moved over to the windows. Jamming her hands into her pockets once more, she muttered defiantly, “Get that bastard’s photo out of here, Casey. I want nothing to do with him! Not a damned thing!”

The obvious hurt, the trembling in her voice, shook Casey. She took a look at the photo once more and then studied Maggie’s drawn profile. Maggie had compressed her full lips into a hard, thin line and suffering was written on every square inch of her features. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you. I know you told me that you’d known Shep a long time ago…” Casey grimaced. “I guess there’s a lot more to this than you’d told me before?”