“I’ll catch up with you,” he said. “There’s something I have to do.”
Brandon blocked his way. “There isn’t time. You need to keep moving.”
“I’m not leaving until Benito Velasquez is dead. It’s personal. Take care of Pia.”
“Michael, please,” Pia begged.
Brandon just shook his head. “Sorry, bro. Not gonna happen.”
Michael swallowed. Bran was right. He couldn’t risk Pia’s safety, couldn’t put all of them in danger. Burying his hatred, he nodded, turned and started up the trail behind Chase, the man who was, apparently, still his best friend.
The path skirted the perimeter of the camp, winding farther and farther away from the soldiers scurrying like mice out of their tents at the brilliant flash of light and explosive roar of another grenade.
Chase kept moving, Pia and Michael behind him. Bran silently veered off the path, heading into the darkness to provide cover while Chase led the way along the narrow game trail they had scouted earlier in the day. Staying low and out of sight, he pressed forward, edging up the hill, making his way toward the huge granite outcropping at the top of the ridge.
More grenades flashed and exploded, each tossed from a different location, landing where they were least expected, the soldiers swarming, running haphazardly into each other, certain they were under attack.
Chase fought down his worry for Harper. She was doing her job. She was smart and determined. He had to trust that she would be okay. Grenade number four exploded. Number five. A few seconds later, number six. Just the way they’d planned. Chase felt a surge of pride.
Spotting Killian up ahead signaling for them to continue on past him, Chase urged Pia and Michael up the steepest section of the trail toward the rendezvous point. Harper should be moving that way, too. Chase prayed she would be waiting for them when they got there.
Instead, when they reached the giant boulder at the top of the ridge, there was no sign of her.
Worry sank into his chest. Leaving Michael and Pia with Killian, he angled back down the hill toward the spot where the last grenade had been tossed. He spotted her in the darkness, fighting two rebel soldiers, one of them shorter than she was, both of them muscular, powerful and ruthless.
With her cap gone, her hair gleamed silver gold in the moonlight. She was a prize any man would want, and those two were determined to have her. Chase’s protective instincts kicked in, goading him to rush in and deal with the men, but he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. If he did, all of them would be dead.
Clamping hard on his fury, he slowed and circled, watched as Harper’s hiking boot shot out and smashed into a soldier’s face, felt a rush of satisfaction at the spray of blood erupting from the man’s broken nose. The second soldier viciously slapped her, grabbed a handful of hair and dragged her down on the ground.
Chase fought a fresh rush of fury. The soldier used his body to pin Harper to the ground while the first man unbuckled his belt, unzipped the fly of his uniform pants and freed himself.
Chase stepped up and drove his Ka-Bar knife hard into the soldier’s torso. He was dead before he hit the ground. Moving behind the other man, Chase wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air supply and any sound he might make. Dragging him off Harper, he let the man’s lifeless body sag to the dirt.
He couldn’t leave the man alive. Couldn’t let him live to tell which escape route the prisoners had taken. If they did, the entire Los Proscritos army would be on their tail.
Harper scrambled to her feet, her eyes locked on the two dead bodies on the ground. Chase gripped her arm and spun her around, gave her a nudge up the trail. “We need to go, baby. Now.”
She stumbled, righted herself, took a long, shuddering breath, then fixed her gaze ahead and started up the nearly invisible game trail that led into the trees at the edge of the plateau.
“Keep going,” he commanded once they were out of sight, taking the lead on the path. “Don’t look back.”
Harper took a deep breath and settled into her usual steady pace, keeping up with Chase’s long strides. Below them, he could hear the sound of gunfire, soldiers shooting at whatever unknown enemy they imagined.
He almost smiled.
He paused for a moment out of sight behind a tree, gently wiped a trickle of blood off Harper’s lip. The man who’d hit her was lucky he was already dead.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
By now, Kil would have Michael and Pia farther up the mountain toward the landing zone, where, with any luck, the helicopter would be arriving very soon. Brandon would stay behind, waiting for them at the rendezvous point to provide cover.
Chase stiffened as a shadow moved into the trail up ahead. He signaled Harper to drop down out of sight and was about to move into position to eliminate the threat when he recognized the flash of white that was his brother’s infamous grin.
“You two okay?” Bran asked.
“You were supposed to wait at the rendezvous point.”
