Did they finally run the bastard down?
If so, it was all the more reason to get this SUV road-ready. With a sigh, he crossed and climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and reversed into the street. He then searched the SUV, found a set of tools, and set about freeing the spare tire. Bolts fell to the ground, then he tugged off the spare and dropped it to the pavement.
He took a breather to check the tablet again.
Kane’s blip still hadn’t moved.
Kowalski grimaced, suspecting something was wrong. “Two should’ve been headed back by now,” he mumbled.
He looked at the broken section of fencing, then back to the woman sprawled inside. She should be out for hours. Or so he guessed. He was no medical doctor.
“Screw this.”
He yanked his Desert Eagle from its holster. He hated being sidelined. If the mission was going south, he couldn’t risk simply babysitting this unconscious woman.
Besides, I’ve been playing babysitter long enough.
He scowled at his small partner, who stood silently nearby.
“C’mon,” he grumbled. “Let’s get going.”
4:33A.M.
Tucker headed slowly through the heart of the arboretum. He had donned a pair of night-vision goggles from his pack, but the sun had risen a fewminutes ago. The glare through the glass walls had grown excruciating. It threatened to blind his normal sight.
To save his vision, he toggled the lenses into infrared mode, which would allow him to detect heat signatures. But the view remained murky, wavering with the steamy warmth of this tropical greenhouse. All around him, palm leaves slowly dripped from the humidity. His face ran with rivulets of sweat.
With a grimace, Tucker finally pushed the goggles to his forehead, recognizing their uselessness. He continued forward, his ears straining for any telltale sign of Radic. He feared the bastard had already crossed the arboretum and smashed out a window on the far side. If so, then the target was likely lost to them.
Tucker pushed aside the frond of a huge fern. The view opened ahead of him, revealing a vast pond filling the center of the greenhouse. Huge lily pads, some a full meter across, covered the dark surface. Several stands of smaller pads were in bloom, lifting stalks of white and yellow flowers. The air was redolent with their musky, sweet scent.
Tucker paused and searched the pond’s far side.
He spotted the reflection of windows in the breaks between the palms and bushes, marking the other flank of the arboretum. Tucker edged around the water, sticking to the cover of the foliage. On the far bank, a section of bushes suddenly shook. Tucker froze—but then jets from a sprinkler burst forth and doused the area, pebbling the pond with droplets.
He cursed under his breath and continued onward.
He reached the opposite bank and dropped lower. He crept through the last of the tropical garden. Once near enough, he stayed within a thicket of ferns and searched the spread of windows.
For as far as he could see, nothing appeared to be broken.
Tucker glanced behind him.
Is Radic still holed up in here somewhere?
The answer came with a crack of a pistol. A round clipped his shoulder just as he had turned. More shots shredded through the leaves, but Tucker had dropped flat. He rolled behind a palm trunk. He wincedagainst the blaze in his shoulder and tried to figure out where Radic was hiding. Tucker fired into the foliage, warning Radic that he was also armed.
Then bushes exploded to his left.
Tucker ducked aside as a dark shape raced past his position.
Kane.
The dog must have heard the gunshots. His partner would never have broken the last command toGUARD—not unless absolutely necessary.
Caught by surprise, Radic panicked. His first round blasted near Kane’s flank. The dog pivoted away, but his weakening front leg betrayed him. Kane slipped on the wet ground cover and toppled sideways into a tumble.
Tucker leaned out with his Makarov, ready to defend his partner, regardless of how exposed it left him.
