Meghan Carver

Amish Covert Operation


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his position, and her foot caught on something. Air rushed past her as she fell face-first into the leaves and dirt.

      The ground slammed into her midsection, forcing the air out of her lungs. As she fought to get a breath, a hand clamped onto her shoulder. She struggled to turn over, but all she could see out of her peripheral vision was what she assumed was the man’s other hand. He held a gun.

      That was it, then. This would be the end.

      * * *

      “Are you all right?” Adam Troyer kept his voice to a low whisper. He glanced back to check the position of the men who had been in the cabin. The one with the weapon continued to advance. Whoever this Amish woman was, he needed to get her out of there. “Can you breathe? Can you run?”

      Her answer was a scream.

      Oh, that wasn’t good. “Shh, shh. I’m not with them. I’m law enforcement.” Another shot struck a nearby tree. “Come with me if you want to live.”

      The screaming stopped as he grasped her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. She grimaced, but if they didn’t hurry, they might both be killed. He broke into a jog, the woman running alongside him, trying to brush dirt and leaves off her skirt with one hand and holding on to her kapp with the other.

      “Danki.” The thank-you puffed out with a breath as they hurried further into the woods.

      He nodded his acknowledgment. She certainly sounded like a real Amish woman, but was she? It could be that she practiced the accent. Was she an innocent bystander? Or was she in league with whoever was in the cabin, just dressed to look Amish so as not to attract attention?

      The sounds of their pursuer crashing through the underbrush grew louder. They would never be able to get away, especially with this woman encumbered by her full skirt and kapp. It was time for concealment.

      Adam pulled her toward a thick stand of poplar trees. “I called nine-one-one. It’s the fastest way to get reinforcements here. Right now we need to hide.”

      She nodded and stepped in front of him as quickly as she could, a look of panic mingled with determination etching fine lines around her eyes. Scanning the forest growth around them, she whispered without looking back, “We go up.”

      It was brilliant. From a tree, not only would they be hidden but he could survey the area and, hopefully, find the man who had chased them from the cabin. A few more steps took them to the base of a thick tree with low-hanging branches.

      “Here?”

      Katie nodded. “Not for long, I pray.”

      But by the time he had holstered his weapon and cupped his hands together to provide a step up for her, she had gathered her skirt tightly around her legs with one hand. With the other, she grasped an upper branch. In a few seconds, she was several feet up the tree. Apparently climbing trees was not a new activity for her.

      Adam followed behind until they came to a spot where two thick branches ran parallel and provided a sort of bench for them. He settled her in the seat and then lowered himself beside her. Branches full with leaves fanned around them, so thick that he had to pull a branch aside to be able to peek out. This would do well.

      He couldn’t see anyone below, but that didn’t mean it was safe to emerge from their hiding spot. He turned to the Amish woman, her face startlingly close to his in their tight surroundings. “I’m Adam Troyer, by the way.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “Immigration and Customs Enforcement special agent.”

      She turned to him. “Katie Schwartz.” Her dark blue eyes flashed in the dimness of their cover as she pierced him with her gaze. “What are you doing here?”

      Wait a minute. He was the one who should ask the questions. “Surveillance.” He would answer that one, though, hopefully to build rapport, and then fire his questions at her. From his position earlier, he had seen her approach the cabin, acting suspicious and watching over her shoulder. Yes, she looked Amish. Even sounded Amish. But he had no way of knowing, at this point in time, that she actually was Amish. What if she was part of the criminal ring he was seeking, perhaps sent out for an errand, innocent-looking in her Amish garb, and now she was returning? He would stick close to her until he knew for sure who she was. In the meantime, though, there was no harm in her knowing he was ICE. He would not tell her any more.

      “I heard a man in the cabin tell you to run away. Why are you here?” He peeked through the leaves again. Still no one had approached the tree. This was not the time or place to question her, but he could gather a little bit of information. If she was one of them, then she would be arrested. If she wasn’t, then perhaps she had some insider information that would be helpful to the investigation. So much about her seemed suspicious and made the hair on the back of his hands raise up.

      “I am looking for mein bruder.” She scrunched her eyes and rubbed at them, a tear squeezing out and running down her cheek. She sniffed, a sound too loud for their concealed location.

      A crashing sounded somewhere below, and Adam parted the branches to see the man with the weapon several yards off. He was looking straight ahead, and Adam couldn’t see his face, only the top of his head, which was covered with a baseball cap.

      Katie sniffed again, and Adam raised his finger to his lips to shush her.

      “Allergies,” she whispered. She wrinkled her nose and held a finger underneath.

       Oh, no. This wouldn’t help at all.

      In a split second, she tilted her head back as if a sneeze was imminent. Adam grabbed her with both arms and, with his hand on the back of her head, pulled her into his shoulder. Her sneeze was muffled in his shirt, but she instantly pushed away from him. He cast what he hoped was an apologetic look in her direction and shrugged his shoulders, but he didn’t dare speak. A peek between the branches revealed that their hiding space remained secure.

      Without knowing how many men were in the cabin or how much firepower they had, he couldn’t take them on all by himself. It was very likely he was outmanned and outgunned, and the best thing to do was wait for local law enforcement to show up. Still, despite the softness of the Amish woman next to him, or perhaps because of it, the hiding place was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

      The woman sniffled again, and he pulled her into his shoulder as the second sneeze erupted. He wanted to shush her, but sneezes were uncontrollable. It wasn’t her fault. Plus he didn’t want the man somewhere below to hear him. They were like sitting ducks up here in their perch.

      As the shuddering of the sneeze subsided, Katie pushed away. She seemed as uncomfortable as he was. But her push must have been too hard, for she wobbled on the branch, her hands grasping for anything to keep her steady. She finally found traction with one hand on the branch and one hand on his arm. Once settled, she let go and straightened her kapp and her skirt.

      “Danki. You have saved me two times.”

      Before he could whisper his response, the tree trunk exploded next to him.

      “Ach!” Katie cried, her hand flying to her leg, obviously in pain but still trying to keep quiet.

      Instincts kicked in, and he grabbed her close and pulled her down, trying to shield her from any other gunshots. Did the shooter know where they were, or was he the type to shoot randomly? Adam peered through the branches, but he couldn’t see a thing.

      “Are you hit?” he whispered, but he knew the answer already.

      Katie drew her hand away from her leg. There was blood on it. “Is that what has happened? My leg burns terribly.” Tears sprang to her eyes as she clutched the spot on her leg.

      “Let me see.” After one more look through the branches, he gently removed her hand from the spot and separated the folds of her skirt. The fabric was torn and bloody around the edges, but the injury was not bleeding profusely. She whimpered in pain as he touched the spot and then gathered the folds of her skirt to apply direct pressure to the wound. “Hold this