The three others were surely racing forward as their comrade screamed in agony.
Rylee got her hands on the man’s rifle and twisted it out of the man’s grip as Tank shook his arm viciously.
Lifting to her knee and planting a foot for stability, the rifle butt pressed to her cheekbone, Rylee swung the barrel from left to right, trying to spot the others. She lowered the rifle to one man’s chest; partially hidden behind the box he clutched.
“Come here and take your brother,” she called over the sound of the screaming man to her side.
Rylee didn’t know anything about combat-trained dogs, but she thought that if the kidnapper would lie still, Tank would stop the attack.
Though his screams dragged at her attention, she didn’t look their way. She was focused on the man with the box who was in her sights. If he dropped the box, he could swing his rifle to aim at her.
If the box dropped, she’d have to shoot.
Rylee curled her finger into the guard, letting the pad of her finger slide into the curve of the trigger. It was muscle memory.
There were so many people, a missed shot could hit an innocent.
She sniffed and steadied her nerves, slowed her breath. There could be no wobble despite her buzzing tingling fingertips.
If he dropped the box, she’d squeeze back on that trigger.One. Two.
“Come and get him before he’s ripped to shreds,” she called.
The man leaned forward as if he was going to set the box down.
One. Two.The command repeated in her mind as Rylee yelled, “No. You and that box, come here and get your brother. Come here.”
The man looked around for backup. Rylee didn’t shift her gaze.
The man beside her was begging for relief.
Still, injured villagers ran, and hobbled, and dragged themselves away.
The man with the box lifted his shoulder to protect his neck as he took a sidestep, and another.
As he reached them, he freed a hand to reach down.
His comrade clung on.
“Tank, let him go. Good job.” Rylee called down.
She could feel Tank’s eyes on her. She knew he registered the rifle at the ready.
Tank spun around and plastered himself to her side. Intense and solid.
The man balanced his box in one arm, holding it in place by his chin, and with the other hand, dragged his comrade, bleeding and whimpering, to the pickup.
Here was the danger point.
The moment when the box went down, and the man turned. If he lifted the rifle, she had to shoot.One. Two. Rifle lifts. She shoots. One. Two. Cause and consequence. One Two.
Out on the runway, the whine of the airplane engine intensified, the engines roared, and Rylee knew she’d missed the window that Dakota opened for her when he told her to run.
The plane was flying away without her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dakota
