“No. Philipe, go see what’s taking Carlos so long,” Hernandez said.
Philipe grumbled, and the rest of the group snickered. After he walked out of sight, the conversation resumed, although quieter and less animated. Everyone was obviously nervous about the first man’s delay.
Mac was curious, although any reduction in their numbers was a good thing. Why had Nick volunteered to go check it out? She didn’t trust those creeps without him here, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Hernandez sent someone else. Silently counting off the minutes, she waited for the absent men to stumble back into the campsite. Five minutes and they didn’t return. After ten, the two remaining hired guns panicked.
They exchanged a glance and then started gathering their gear. One of them kept up a running dialogue. “Something’s wrong or they’d be back by now. Didn’t sign on to get my throat cut in the dark on some lousy mountain no one’s ever heard of. The pay might be good, but not that good. Give me a straight-on fight anytime.”
Hernandez stepped into the man and coldcocked him, knocking him down and garnering the undivided attention of both men. “Don’t lose your heads. Joe Reynolds is trying to scare us. We have to be smarter than he is.” He turned his gaze on Nick, the only person still sitting. “You will find out what has happened to our two amigos.”
Nick flashed a confident smile as he got slowly to his feet and pushed his cowboy hat back with his index finger. “Sure thing, Ambassador. I’d love to see what’s keeping your men.” He tipped his hat to Mac and strode casually into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE HIRED GUNMAN staggered through the brush not fifty feet from the fire’s glow. Brady shadowed him, staying out of sight. What was the bastard waiting for? An engraved invitation to take a leak? Finally, he stopped beside a tree, leaned his rifle on the trunk, and unzipped.
Brady was on him in a heartbeat; Joe’s warning about them being diplomats and not shooting except on his order wasn’t foremost in his mind. In deference to his boss and friend, Brady would do the best he could . . . but no promises.
One hand slapped over the man’s mouth, one arm around his neck, Brady applied pressure until he stopped fighting. He bound the man and hid him in the thick brush, throwing all of his weapons into a hollowed-out tree trunk nearby. It went against every ounce of Brady’s training to leave an enemy behind alive, and now he’d have to move twice as fast to accomplish his mission before the two he’d taken out of the game awoke.
He ducked behind a tree with about thirty seconds to spare before the next lowlife stood from his place by the fire and came looking for his friend. The man walked a zigzag trail, searching the brush and rocks. Brady chose a spot behind a large boulder to put him out of commission. Two down . . . four to go.
He climbed a tree as close as he dared to the campsite. From there he got a clear view of Mac and Marco, sitting together away from the men. They appeared to be in good shape, so he didn’t completely regret not killing the men behind him in the trees.
Four men remained around the fire. Two of the gunmen sat with their backs to him. Hernandez lounged on the other side of the campfire. Brady would know that tall, rangy snake anywhere. Beside him sat cowboy and chopper pilot Nick Taylor, probably feeling pretty proud of himself about now. Brady prayed he’d be the next man to walk into the woods.
Like an answer from heaven, the man stood, pushed his hat back, and turned sideways to say something to Hernandez. Then Nick tipped his hat in Mac’s direction and strode into the trees where his two buddies had gone missing. A minute later, he passed under the tree where Brady crouched. When Nick was far enough away, Brady dropped to the ground on silent feet and followed.
Brady unsheathed his knife. Sorry, Joe. He was going to enjoy this kill. A traitor in their midst ready to hurt Mac or Marco on Hernandez’s order? He deserved no mercy, and he’d get none from Brady.
Nick veered to the east and picked up the pace. He wasn’t going to find his friends like that. Brady kept up with him, planning to hit him on the way back. When Nick finally made the turn toward camp, Brady moved closer, only to have Nick leave the cover of the trees and stride a hundred yards in the open. Either he was really stupid or he wanted to be seen. Brady couldn’t think of a single reason for the latter.
Nick covered the last fifty yards at a full-out run, and the camp exploded into action before he even got there. Brady crept close enough to hear.
“What the hell, Nick?” Hernandez waved his arms in the air.
“I found them. Your men are both dead. Throats cut.”
What the hell kind of game was Nick playing? If he wanted to panic this crew, he’d sure done that. The two hired guns gathered their gear and lit out of there like goblins were after them.
“That’s just great, Nick. Now we’ve got no one to do the wet work . . . except you, my friend.”
“What wet work?” He suddenly didn’t sound so sure of himself.
Hernandez turned to look at Mac, then swung his gaze back to Nick. “If she falls off that plateau, no one will be able to trace it to me. You’ll have to leave the country for a while, but I pay men well for that kind of service.”
“What did she ever do to you?”
“She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once she’s dead, there won’t be any way to incriminate me in what happened in Sitka.”
Brady seethed as Hernandez bragged of his accomplishments.
“What about Maria? Isn’t she the one you’re really after?” It almost appeared as though Nick was stalling for time.
“I’ll be getting the good news from my other team any minute, and then we’ll be on our way to the rendezvous point. All of my troubles will be over.” Hernandez smiled. “Don’t look so concerned, Nick. If you want her dead before you throw her off, I can fix that. One broken neck coming up.” Hernandez strode quickly toward Mac.
Brady shot forward, and in his peripheral vision, he saw Nick do the same. Brady yanked his handgun from his holster, but Hernandez was too close to Mac, and he was too far away to guarantee accuracy. He holstered the weapon instead and concentrated on speed.
Mac jumped to her feet and pulled Marco with her. “Run, Marco! Don’t stop!”
Marco took off at a dead run toward the Plateau.
Mac faced Hernandez and raised her arm. She clutched the Glock in her shaky hand, but Hernandez only hesitated for a split second. With five feet to spare, she fired. His shoulder jerked back, but he didn’t go down. Instantly, she pulled the trigger again. Nothing happened; the gun evidently jammed.
Brady barreled out of the trees at that exact second, sending Nick flying with a swing of his arm. He was almost on Hernandez as the snake reached for Mac, when a rifle discharged somewhere to the south. Less than a second later, a bullet hit Hernandez in the chest, dropping him instantly.
Rayna! Cutting it pretty close. He’d have a talk with her about that. Brady grabbed Mac and pulled her away from Hernandez’s body. He shielded her from the grisly scene as much as he could, and she seemed content to wrap her arms around him and snuggle close. That is, until he heard Nick climbing to his feet.
Brady drew his gun again and turned it on him. “Stay down if you know what’s good for you.”
“Somebody should find Marco.” Nick straightened and put his dirt-covered hat on his head.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not going to be you. In fact, if I don’t kill you, the only place you’re going is jail.” Brady set Mac away from him and strode toward Nick.
“Wait, Brady—” Mac tried to push in front of him, but he shoved her into his shadow.
“Wait a minute. I talked to Joe a couple of hours ago and told him what was going down. He was supposed to spread the word. Didn’t Joe tell you?” Nick raised his hands as though trying to calm the crowd.
“Tell me what?”
“That I’m one of the good guys. I was undercover to get information that will clear your girlfriend. I’ll get it too, now that Hernandez is
dead. Some of his men will be only too happy to talk to me in exchange for a plea bargain. She’ll be able to go back to Sitka if she wants. Would you tell him, please, Mac?”
Brady glanced over his shoulder, and Mac nodded.
“I didn’t believe him at first either, but I think it’s true. Joe had to keep it quiet while Nick was undercover so there’d be no chance of it leaking out. But with Hernandez dead, Maria and Marco will be free too.” Mac stared into the darkness toward the Plateau. “I’ll go find him.”
“We’ll all go.” Brady holstered his weapon, still regarding Nick warily.
“Way ahead of you.” Joe’s voice came from the shadows, and it was a few seconds before Brady focused on him walking beside Walker with Marco’s small form in between. “We followed the sound of the shots up to the top of the Plateau. There was nobody around by the time we got there. Pretty good view from up there though. Looked like Brady had everything almost under control. We were on our way down to lend a hand when Hernandez lost it. I told Rayna to take whatever shot she could get, and Walker and I split up to intercept Marco.” Joe’s hand rested on the kid’s neck while he looked around the group. “Everything okay here?”
“Would have been nice if you’d told Brady I was on your side. The guy was going to shoot me.” Nick stood with hands on hips.
“Damn straight. I do my best work on assholes that hurt women and children.” Brady smirked, but he wasn’t really at a point where it was funny yet.
“Those were your orders, Nick. I tried to talk you out of it, if you remember. By the time you called from up on top and gave me the okay to inform my men, Brady had already heard the shots on the Plateau, and he didn’t wait around for further instructions. That’s how it is sometimes in our line of work. You took your chances.” Joe delivered his opinion matter-of-factly.
“Let’s get Mac and Marco back to the house. We can continue this discussion later.” Walker squeezed by Mac to check Hernandez for signs of life. He shook his head. “Are there more?” He turned toward Brady.
Brady nodded and led the way into the trees. The two men he’d incapacitated were still out, but by the time he and Walker draped them over their shoulders and carried them roughly back to the campsite, they were starting to come around. Walker checked to make sure their hands were still secured behind their backs and left them kneeling on the ground at the edge of the forest.
The fire had died down, and the men easily kicked the embers apart. Rayna and Sanchez rejoined the group, both grinning from ear to ear. Brady greeted Rayna with a high five for her precision shot that kept Hernandez from touching Mac and shook Sanchez’s hand enthusiastically for backing her up. Then they formed a single file for the trek back to the Gators, with the two gunmen stumbling along between Walker and Joe and Brady bringing up the rear. Nick carried Marco most of the way. Mac appeared on the edge of collapse, but she insisted she make it on her own two feet, so Brady fumed each time she tripped.
When they reached the Gators, he didn’t ask—just swung her onto the front seat. She frowned halfheartedly, but when he swept Marco up and turned to her questioningly, she held out her arms to receive the kid. He shoved the prisoners in the back, and Nick climbed into the bed and stood, holding the roll bar. Brady slid into the driver’s seat beside Mac, turning the vehicle toward the compound. Joe, Walker, Rayna, and Sanchez filled the second Gator.
Mac fell asleep with her head on his lap halfway there . . . with Marco asleep on hers. Brady’s gaze continually strayed to them; he was thankful beyond measure that he’d gotten there in time, that Rayna was a damn good shot, that Nick had been with them . . . although that one made the list somewhat grudgingly.
He saw the lights of emergency responders as soon as they broke from the trees. As he drew closer, he could make out three police cruisers, an ambulance, and a coroner’s van parked along the drive from the gate to the house. Dread ballooned in his already queasy stomach. Beside him, Mac stirred, and her eyes went wide when she saw the lights.
After they parked the vehicles and unloaded the prisoners, Ty met them in the front yard, and by his clenched jaw and the strain on his face, the news was definitely not good.
Joe stepped close to him. “Who?”
Ty’s gaze flickered to the coroner’s van, and he exhaled slowly. “Maria.” He spoke quietly, but with the expectant hush in the air, his words traveled.
Beside Brady, Mac gasped and gripped his arm. Then her gaze searched for Marco, and she flew to him, picked him up, and covered the few feet to the door without looking back.
“How’d it happen?” Walker waited until the door closed behind her.
“Irene said she panicked when the alarm went off the second time. She was convinced Marco was outside, and she went out after him. Irene tried to stop her, but Maria was out of her mind with fear. She must have just stepped off the porch when my unit came around the side to push Hernandez’s men back outside the gate. They opened fire, and I heard her cry out. By the time I could get to her, she was gone.” Pain flooded Ty’s face.
“Is Irene okay?” Joe glanced toward the house.
“Physically, she’s fine . . . but she blames herself.”
Joe nodded. “Sounds like that’s going around. I’ll talk to her.”
Special Agent Guy Hanford pulled into the driveway, skirted around all the cruisers, and parked near the small group of men. He got out and strode toward them.
Joe brought up the prisoners and handed them over. “You’re not going to like this, but Hernandez is dead.”
Hanford sighed. “You’ve just unleashed a shit storm.”
“Maybe not.” Nick stepped forward. “Hernandez was dirty. We all knew that. Now that he’s dead and not able to lord it over his hired hands, I know three, maybe four men—upstanding witness material—who’ll jump at the chance to bury him.” He handed a notebook to Hanford. “Names and phone numbers.” He glanced toward Brady. “I think you’ll even find some dirty cops in there who’re willing to spill their guts.”
Hanford held his palm open to receive the notebook, and a smile slowly appeared. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. Suddenly it’s a damn good night.”
Nick scowled. “We lost Maria. Mac and Marco almost became collateral damage. You might want to reconsider your position on what makes a good night.”
Okay, maybe Brady would be able to forgive the cowboy . . . eventually.
Joe turned to the rest of the group. “Ty and I will take care of this. You guys get some rest.” His gaze settled on Brady. “Check on Mac. She’s had a hell of a night.”
The group dispersed, and Brady ran up the stairs to the third floor. He knocked softly on her door. “Mac? Let me in, sugar.”
She opened it almost immediately, allowing enough room for him to slip through. He took in the room at a glance. Marco lay on the bed, curled up tightly. He still hiccupped, evidence of how hard he’d cried. Mac’s eyes were red and puffy too. Seemed like heartache came in waves for her.
“I . . . I can’t believe she’s gone.” Her voice broke, and she wiped tears from her face.
“Come here.” Brady raised his arm in invitation.
She came to him without hesitation and burrowed into his arms. She was as cold as ice and shook with each fractured breath. He held her like that for a long time, hoping to somehow create a sense of security there in his arms. Finally, he swept her up, carried her to the bathroom, and started the shower. While she undressed and stepped under the water, he went back to the bedroom to rifle through her new clothes until he found something suitable for her to sleep in—flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved top. A smile worked at the corners of his mouth. No doubt she’d appreciate him selecting something that damn near covered every inch of her skin.
“Doing okay?” He pushed the bathroom door open tentatively, not sure how she would feel about him seeing her naked after everything he’d said.
“Just about finished.” Mac was drying herself behind the shower curtai
n, so he left the PJs and returned to the bedroom to wait.
When she joined him, she crawled back into his arms, but she seemed exhausted and out of it. He spread the bedcovers open for her, and she lay down next to Marco, pulling him tightly to her.
Brady should have left then, but the need to be there for her was overpowering. After watching her for a few minutes, he took off his shirt and shoes and lay beside her with his arm draped around her, breathing in her familiar scent, so grateful that she was all right.
Toward morning, it occurred to him that he might not be the person she would want to see in her bed when she woke. With disgust, he remembered the pain in her eyes as she’d turned away from him after she’d told him to leave. He’d find a way to fix things between them or die trying, but right now she needed time to deal with yet more grief.
Brady retrieved his T-shirt and shoes, kissed her forehead, and slipped out of her room.
Chapter Twenty-Four
MAC STIRRED AND stretched in her cocoon of warm blankets. Marco slept within her embrace, his cherubic face peaceful in slumber. She smiled and lifted her arm from him carefully, reaching behind her to assure herself of Brady’s presence.
Except . . . he was gone. The covers were tucked around her securely and had managed to lock in the heat from her own body. Had she only dreamed that he’d held her until she fell asleep? Impossible. She’d been on the verge of a meltdown last night. If he hadn’t come to her room, taken charge, and let her lean on him, she’d never have slept at all. But apparently, sometime after she’d dropped off, he’d opted for other sleeping arrangements.
Not that she could blame him. She’d been completely exhausted and nearly catatonic when they arrived back at the house. Then they’d gotten the news about Maria, and everything had gone black . . . until she remembered Marco. By the time she’d gotten him calmed down and in bed, she was numb, unable to think or even comprehend what came next. Only Brady’s arms around her, his body pressed against her back, had grounded her and made her world secure again.
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