Rick spoke in his ear. “He’s nervous.”
Neil set off his last bomb in an attempt to fill the area with smoke.
He heard Mickey swear under his breath as he darted to the east, directly into Neil’s path.
Neil waited until the last possible moment and aimed his weapon. “Drop it.”
Mickey swung toward him, weapon raised.
Neil aimed for his shoulder, fired off a round. Two more sounded in the rain soaked forest.
Mickey jerked back, lost his grip on his gun. Adrenaline took over and Neil leapt onto the man and took him to the ground. His arm went back, connected with Mickey’s face once, twice. Blood gushed from Mickey’s arm, too much for a flesh wound.
Neil disarmed him and rolled him onto his back. Neil flexed his neck tasting his rage and wanting the man dead. “You took out Billy.”
Mickey’s mouth twisted into a sick smile. “Blew up his woman, too.”
Neil let his fist fly again.
“I should kill you right here.”
Mickey coughed. A gurgling sound filled his chest. Neil looked down, noticed Mickey’s field jacket pooling with blood.
What the f**k? Neil’s aim wasn’t that bad.
“You never had the balls,” Mickey managed between his cough. Blood escaped his lips.
Realizing his enemy was incapacitated, Neil tossed his gun aside and ripped open Mickey’s shirt. Blood was everywhere.
“Is he down?” Neil heard Rick in his ear.
“Yeah.” From the looks of the hole in his chest, Rick had taken aim from behind. Mickey was dying.
Mickey stared beyond Neil, his eyes glossed over. “She would have taken me back. My Annie.”
Neil didn’t have the heart to destroy Mickey’s last thoughts.
“Where’s Gwen?”
Mickey met his eyes, huffed out a breath, and stopped breathing.
Neil squeezed his eyes shut. “You stupid f**k.” He pushed away from Mickey’s body and peered through the rain to see where Rick was.
“Rick?”
“I’m here.” His friend’s voice didn’t sound normal.
“Where?”
“Base of the cliff. Our target down?”
Neil glanced at a man he once called his friend. He thought of the picture of all of them…in happier times. “Yeah. He’s down.”
“Good.”
“Where are you?” Neil didn’t see him anywhere.
“Caught a bullet. I’m OK.”
Neil ran through the brush, ignoring the branches as they slapped against his legs, his waist. He found Rick against a tree, his right thigh in his hand. “How bad is it?”
“Not my gut.”
“How bad, Rick?” Neil knew there were major arteries in the thigh that could end a man’s life just as easily as a shot to the chest.
Rick attempted his signature smile. His second set of dimples didn’t kick in. “Could be better.”
“Ah, hell.”
“I’m OK. You gotta go get your girl. Before Chuck realizes what happened here.”
Neil looked over at his car and then back to Rick. “I can’t leave you.”
“You better f**king leave me. I’m fine, Neil. Go. I have a phone, I’ll call for help when you leave. Besides, I think this hillside is set up to go off. Mickey was trying too hard to get us up there.”
Neil glanced at the cliff above him. Large boulders protruded from the sides of the rock. Large enough to crush those below. Getting Rick to safety, disarming bombs…police questions, all of this would take time. Precious time.
“Go,” Rick told him again. “I’ll avoid your name until I hear from you. Don’t want to tip Blayney off.”
Neil attempted to look at Rick’s wound to see for himself if his friend was all right.
Rick shoved him away. “Go. Get the hell out of here.”
He stood, and shoved his hand into his pocket. “If something happens, call Blake. Tell him everything.”
“Go get Gwen and tell Blake yourself.”
Neil shoved the card into Rick’s hands anyway. “Go, Lieutenant.”
He nodded once, dropped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t f**king die.” Tears swam behind his lids.
“Get the hell out of here.”
Neil didn’t have to be told again.
Blake sat in the back of the town car a few miles from base. The rain slowed to a drizzle reflecting on his sour mood. He couldn’t remember the last time someone blew off a call from him.
He made a call to the major’s secretary and ended up talking to an answering machine. He left an urgent message, with shameless name-dropping littering the recording. Not that it mattered. Blake would call out the queen and the president if it would do him any good in locating his sister and Neil.
Minutes ticked by as impatience crawled up Blake’s spine. Carter was due to call anytime, hopefully to tell him that Max arranged his audience with the major.
When the phone rang, he didn’t bother to look at who the call was from before answering it.
“Carter?”
“Blake?”
Not Carter. “Neil?” His arms prickled and his mind went numb. “Neil?”
“Listen, Blake. I don’t have much time.”
“Where are you? Where’s Gwen?”
Neil didn’t answer his question. “I need you to write this down. Are you listening?”
The intensity of Neil’s voice was unlike anything Blake could remember hearing in the past. “I’m listening.”