“Not if you’re getting us out of here.”
“Tansy sent me.”
“She all right?”
Kadan liked him a little better for that. “She’s fine.” He slipped another knife from his belt and cut the tape binding Meadows’s wrists. It was a calculated risk since he couldn’t read the man’s mind, but they had to move fast.
“Coming in.” Ryland’s voice floated over the radio.
“Come on then,” Kadan replied in greeting. “Gator, you clearing a path for us?”
It wasn’t difficult for Gator to scale the fence, using the prongs on his boots and the spikes on his gloves. He went up and over and then signaled to the dogs, stirring them up, commanding them to bark, to roar out challenges from every point in the yard while he sprinted for the helicopter pad. He’d just made it to cover when the guards burst out into the open from every direction, lights once again flooding the compound. This time, the handlers released the dogs from the double fence and brought them leashed, searching for enemies on the grounds.
Gator did a hasty job of planting the explosives, first on the helipad, more on the helicopter, a third along the fence just beyond the pad. He used the blurring speed of the enhanced GhostWalker, cutting through the acreage to get to the opposite side of the estate, throwing voices as he sprinted, disrupting the dogs so they went crazy, howling and barking, raging at their handlers, so that chaos erupted in several hot spots, keeping guards running in every direction but toward Gator or the house.
A guard on the roof must have spotted him, because Nico’s gun boomed and the man nearly toppled at Gator’s feet. Gator kept running. A second shot rang out, and he caught a glimpse of a man falling from the roof to a balcony. The Cajun didn’t hesitate; he put on a burst of speed and zigzagged, just to keep the odds in his favor.
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” Nico sounded the same. Matter-of-fact.
It took Gator several minutes to get to the opposite fence, two acres from the helipad, and even he was a bit out of breath after his run. Whipping out a can, he sprayed an entire section of all three fences. A man shouted hoarsely at him, but Gator kept spraying and didn’t turn when Nico’s rifle coughed up another kill.
“Where are you?” Ryland’s voice buzzed in his ear.
“Heading for the garage,” Gator answered and whirled back to make another run. This time he was going to have to first get through the ranks of guards and then enter the garage, where Nico would no longer be able to help him.
He drew two guns and headed for the garage. The guards were gearing up to make a move on the house, knowing through radio silence that their bosses were most likely dead. They were between him and the garage, and he had to get to the Humvee. “I’m on the move now.”
The moment Kadan heard Gator was making a break for the garage, he skirted around the woman on the floor and pulled two guns from his belt. “Search him, Rye.”
He didn’t look back, but broke out of the house on the run, firing relentlessly, choosing his targets as he cleared a path to protect Gator. He could hear Nico’s rifle and the resounding crash of Gator’s guns as they joined in the fight.
“I’m in.” Gator’s voice was a little out of breath. He swore. There was more gunfire and then he spoke again. “Son of a bitch, get out of my ride.” More gunfire came from the vicinity of the garage. “It’s an original, and man, she’s a beaut.”
Kadan gave a small sigh of relief. The intel on the vehicle had been hastily researched, and Tansy hadn’t paid attention to it, she’d never even ridden in it. Don Meadows had the real deal, the military-issue, four-wheel drive, high-mobility, armor-plated, go-over-and-through-anything vehicle. And they were going to need it.
“Blow the helicopter,” Kadan ordered.
Instantly the aircraft lifted into the air, exploded into several large pieces, and settled back down in a fiery orange and black cauldron of flames. The explosion had the desired effect of sending the guards scurrying toward the ocean side of the property.
Kadan counted to thirty and gave the next order. “Take out the helipad.”
The second explosion rocked the estate. Smoke billowed into the air along with a tower of flames.
Kadan retreated to the doorway of the house. Ryland would have to pack Sharon out on his shoulder, but Don . . . now, Don was another matter. Kadan didn’t trust him. He had to have some psychic ability to have such a natural barrier in his head. Given a psychic talent and his longstanding friendship with Whitney, Kadan didn’t trust the man any further than he could throw him.
Ryland came up behind him, gun out, Sharon draped over his shoulder. Don had been herded in front of the GhostWalker and was clearly unhappy.
“I can carry my wife.”
Kadan turned cool eyes on him. “You can be quiet or you’ll go out the same way she’s going out.”
Meadows flushed. Kadan doubted anyone ever talked to him like that. As a future son-in-law, he wasn’t racking up the points, but he didn’t really give a damn.
“At least give me a gun to defend us,” Don demanded.
Kadan swung around, drawing the air syringe from his pack and slapping another liquid cartridge into it.
Don held up both hands and backed up. “I’ll be quiet. Seriously, you don’t need that.”
Kadan ignored him, turning back just as the Humvee burst out of the garage and bounced over the flower beds. The few remaining guards scattered, dogs roared, and the vehicle slid sideways to the atrium door.
“Blow the back fence,” Kadan ordered calmly as he stepped back, jerked Don out of the line of gunfire, and shoved Tansy’s father behind him.
The third explosion shook the house again.
“Go, Rye,” Kadan ordered, calmly shooting two men who were aiming at Gator. Nico’s rifle barked at the same time, and the bodies jerked twice as they went down.
Nico was firing steadily now, providing cover as Rye ran, Sharon’s limp body bouncing like a rag doll against his back. He slung her into the waiting vehicle and took up a position to cover Kadan and Don.
“Let’s go,” Kadan said. “Make a run and dive inside. Get on the floor and cover your wife’s body.”
To his credit, Don didn’t hesitate. He looked neither right nor left; he just took off sprinting, leaping for the open door and draping his body over Sharon’s.
“Get out, Nico,” Kadan ordered. “Go, Gator.”
The Humvee lurched forward and then picked up speed.
A guard rose up on the driver’s side, sighting down his barrel at Gator. A red hole blossomed where his left eye had been just as Kadan put one in his chest.
“Nico,” Kadan said, reprimanding him.
“I’m out,” Nico confirmed. “Catch you at the rendezvous point.”
“Did you get the tracking device, Gator?” Kadan asked.
“Dismantled,” Gator said, his eyes on the fence looming ahead of them. The double chain-link with the privacy fence just beyond it. He kept his foot on the gas, building up their speed.
Don Meadows lifted his head trying to peer out, saw the fence coming at them. “Stop!”
Kadan’s boot found the back of his neck and shoved him low as the front of the vehicle hit the chain, weakened by the acid bath Gator had provided. The Humvee tore through the second fence and struck the third at full throttle. The splintering crash was loud as the boards gave way and the vehicle passed through unscathed.
Gator had a map of the rough terrain imprinted in his head. The property backed up to the steep canyons. The dense foliage and trees would provide them with cover as they made their way to the safe house. The Humvee went up and over a slope and down the other side, and they were dropping off the earth, with mountain peaks rising above them and wilderness surrounding them.
Kadan took his boot off Don Meadows’s neck and indicated for him to get in the seat. “Get your wife strapped in so she doesn’t get hurt.”
Meadows glanced out the window and then around at the three grim-faced men. The Humvee bounced over rocks and brush, and although Gator had slowed considerably, the motion was intense, jostling the passengers, throwing them from side to side and up toward the roof. Don reached down, his grip gentle, to turn Sharon over and up into his arms. Ryland and Kadan were guarding each side of the vehicle, guns out, waiting for signs of pursuit.
“Nico should be coming at us anytime,” Gator called, slowing more. He turned the wheel hard to his right, the wheel jerking violently as they went up and over a series of rocks and then dropped down a brush-covered slope into a creek bed.
“Movement to the right,” Ryland reported.
“Hold your fire,” Kadan cautioned. “Nico? Are you seeing us?”
Static was the only answer.
“Incoming,” Ryland announced.
Don automatically covered his wife, trying to press her limp body against the seat as tightly as he could.
Gator took the Humvee into a fairly thick stand of heavy brush, smashing through leaves and branches while Kadan shifted to the right. A four-wheel-drive Jeep burst through the trees, coming at them fast. Kadan calmly fired three shots through the window at the driver while Ryland took out the passenger with a head shot. The driver slumped to one side, and the Jeep hit a rock and bounced into the air, crashed down, and hit a tree, coming to a stop. Gator drove a few yards deeper into the brush and once again made a hard right to try to get to the point where Nico should have been waiting.
He brought the vehicle to a stop, and Kadan signaled to Ryland to watch their packages, while he yanked open the door and leapt out, running low along the ground, his skin changing, his clothing reflecting the surrounding brush. He went up the slope, leaping over downed, rotting tree trunks and a few brambles to land back on a narrow trail.
He could hear the sound of a small motorcycle and knew Nico was in full retreat. Behind him came another much larger engine and the sound of gunfire. Nico was trying to lead them away from the Humvee.
“Bring them to me,” Kadan ordered, hoping the command got through to Nico.
The canyon was steep, narrow, and covered in dense shrubs and trees. Nico had to be taking a beating on the small bike as he tore through the underbrush without protection. The whine of the engine grew louder as Nico seemed to circle back toward him. Then he burst through the bushes just a foot or so from Kadan, his face and arms covered in angry scratches, bleeding from a hundred tears in his skin. He abandoned the bike, leaping off it and rolling into the brush while it was still moving forward, his rifle protected by his body.
Nico came up on one knee, the butt of the rifle fitting snugly against his shoulder as he sought a target. Kadan looked him over once to ensure none of the wounds were too bad; most looked like brambles had ripped the sniper up as he traveled through the brush. Then the pursuing truck topped the slope and bounced over it. The guards in the back were thrown from side to side, making the shots difficult.
Nico, of course, had no problems taking out the marksman steadying his rifle, but Kadan’s first bullet took the man behind the shooter high in the shoulder, spun him around, and knocked him out of the truck. He was still moving, and Kadan had no choice but to waste a second shot, giving the third guard a chance to get off a shot. The bullet whistled past Kadan’s face, and he felt the burn along his cheek, although it never touched him.
Nico’s rifle bucked again and the shooter went down. Kadan took out the driver and without a word, the two GhostWalkers raced back toward the Humvee. Ryland threw the doors open and they climbed in. Gator gunned the engine and they were on the move.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Nico said in greeting. “That woman of yours is going to get all mushy over you.”
Kadan didn’t change expression or look at Tansy’s father, but inside, his heart did a peculiar little flip. No one had ever had a mushy reaction to a few wounds on him. Would she? Even with her parents present? He hadn’t considered that. The thought warmed him a little. He didn’t want to think about her when he was working. She had no place in this part of his life. He was born to fight, born to kill, and someone as compassionate as Tansy would never understand the need and desire that drove him to take on the assignments he did—or maybe he was wrong. Maybe that same desire was in her—that thirteen-year-old girl offering herself as a sacrifice in order to track evil—maybe the need simply manifested itself differently.
He wiped his hand across his face and was surprised when it came back smeared with blood. He didn’t even know whose blood he wore, only that he was going back to her covered in it. He seemed to spend a lot of his time with blood on his skin.
Ryland prodded him with his boot. “You’ve got a hole in your shirt. You hurt?”
Don Meadows cleared his throat. “He took a bullet when Fredrickson tried to kill my wife. They said if there was a rescue, they’d kill her and they meant it.”
“Fredrickson was an idiot. He should have taken me out first and then killed her,” Kadan said, shrugging his shoulders. It was what he would have done if the situation had been reversed. Take out the badass and then do your work.
Nico handed him a bottle of water from his pack. “Drink up, man, you look like you could use it.”
He must look worse than he’d thought for Nico, the one covered in raw scratches, to point out that he looked bad. He took the bottle and downed half of it in one swallow.
“Who are you?” Don asked. “Where’s my daughter?”
“She’s safe. I’ve got a couple of good men guarding her.”
“Guarding her, or keeping her prisoner?”
Kadan thought that over. She had no access to a phone. Ian and Tucker had orders to keep her close. She couldn’t leave, and if things went wrong, they would forcibly remove her to a safer location. Technically, he supposed, she was a prisoner. He didn’t bother to reply. Damn if he’d explain himself to this man.
He shifted his gaze, let it drift over Meadows. The man was in good shape, strong, fit, intelligence in his eyes. He was thinking, assessing the situation, and Kadan bet the man knew where every weapon in the Humvee was. Meadows also read accurately that any of the GhostWalkers was likely to kill him before he ever got off a move.