“So Trace and Skye will be going along,” Abby said. “What about Mateo?”
Gage had pondered that. “Mateo is with the boy. I don’t want Carlos involved. Mateo can stay here and keep an eye on him and our equipment. I’d like our stuff to be here when we get back.” And Edge, Trace, and Skye were all former military. They understood the language, knew how to move as one.
“You’re right,” Abby said. “All three of them were soldiers. They’ve worked together before. Mateo might be more of a liability than an asset.”
His thoughts exactly. “I’ll bring Mateo up to speed and tell him what we’ve decided.”
When he returned, he found Edge, Skye, and Trace loading their gear into the back of one of the Hummers.
“We’re leaving ahead of you,” Edge said. “We need to check out the location, find the best way to handle the situation. Give us a twenty-minute head start. That’ll still get you there before the deadline. When you arrive, you won’t see us, but we’ll be there.”
Gage just nodded.
“Good luck,” Abby said, as Edge started walking.
He stopped and turned back. “Don’t either of you try to be heroes out there. Just do what they say, and let us handle the rest.”
“We’ll do our best,” Gage agreed, but if things went sideways, he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Abby safe.
Edge’s blue eyes locked with his, and the truth passed between them. His brother was no fool. By now, he knew Abby meant more to him than just a woman to share his bed. He would protect her at any cost.
“I’ll see you there,” Edge said and climbed into the Hummer.
Gage turned to Abby, who stood in the doorway. Her chin was firm, her mouth set. Beneath her T-shirt, he could see the faint outline of the holstered revolver clipped to her waist.
The engine fired, and Trace pulled the Hummer out into the street. Gage checked his watch. “It’ll be close,” he said.
“We’ll make it.”
Gage just nodded. With any luck, they would be on time in Mérida. With better luck, they would live through the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ABBY TURNED ON HER PHONE AND USEDSIRI TO GUIDE THEM TOthe address in Mérida, a small stucco house painted blue with a flat roof and a single-car garage. This late at night, the area was dark and quiet. The grass in front of the house was stringy and needed mowing. There was a car in the driveway, an older-model black SUV.
Abby prayed Edge, Trace, and Skye were somewhere nearby, but as Edge had warned, Abby couldn’t see them.
Gage pulled the second Hummer up in front of the house and turned off the engine. The front door opened, and four men walked out. The one in front was tall and lean, with thick black hair cut short and a solid, broad-shouldered build. The others were shorter, darker, one with a mustache, one with a goatee, one with a gruesome scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his jaw.
The tall man stepped away from the others. He was in his late thirties and handsome. “Abigail Holland?”
“That’s right.”
His black eyes shifted to Gage. “And you are Logan.”
“That’s right, and you are?”
“Paulo.” He turned back to Abby. “Your grandfather is not here. If you wish to see him, you will come with me.” He spoke English with a thick Spanish accent. He motioned to the other three men, who formed a circle around them. “Hand over your weapons.”
Gage flicked Abby a glance filled with resignation. Reaching behind his back, he pulled out the pistol he was carrying and set it on the ground.
Abby set her revolver down beside it.
“Santos, you search the woman.” The guy with the scar came forward to pat her down, but he was so intent on feeling her breasts, he didn’t notice the knife she had strapped to her calf beneath the leg of her jeans, the knife Mateo had given her to cut away leaves and vines at the old hacienda. Abby felt a shot of satisfaction.
“Hector, you search the big one,” Paulo instructed, speaking this time in Spanish. The man with the mustache did a pat-down on Gage but found nothing more. Paulo walked over to the SUV and opened the rear passenger door. “Get in.”
Abby started walking, but Gage caught her arm. “Where are we going?” he asked Paulo.
