A wave of heat slid over him. So, yeah, he should have trusted his K9.
Jericho turned back to Gregg. “Yes. He’s okay. Let’s look at you.”
The man must have had piled snow into a mitten and set it on his head wound, although now it lay soggy over the gash.
“He had a gun. Hit me with it...” Gregg shook his head. “But I had a tire iron.” He offered a small smile. “Oorah.”
“Well done, sir,” Jericho said. He winced at the sight of the wound. “You get turned around?”
“Oh, it wasn’t the head wound that slowed me down.” He groaned and tried to lean back.
And that’s when Jericho spotted the soggy puddle of blood in the hay.
“He had a trick up his sleeve. Or rather his boot. It’s not deep, but it hurt like a bear.”
Jericho eased him onto his back. Opened his jacket. The wound was right above his hip, left lower quadrant. “It’s deep enough. You might have internal bleeding, but hopefully it missed your liver.”
“That’s important?”
Jericho looked up at Gregg, who winked.
Yeah, he was a Marine.
“So I’ve heard.” Jericho took off his scarf, bundled it, and pressed it against the wound. “We have a chopper coming in. Can you tell me what happened?”
Gregg glanced at Daniel. Drew in a shaky breath. “Forced off the road. Guy got out carrying a .308. I carry too and shot back.” He opened his jacket. A Smith and Wesson, .44 magnum. “Missed. Then I was out, but he was out too, so I took off with Daniel. We had a tussle in the woods. I injured him good, but my killing days are done.” His gaze hardened. “Maybe they shouldn’t be.”
Jericho raised an eyebrow. “What did he want?”
Again, his gaze went to Daniel.
Right.
“Get me out of here, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
He tucked the blanket back around Gregg, got up and walked over to Harley, overhearing her words.
“Team Three to Base. Medical emergency.” Harley glanced at him. “Both subjects located. Adult male injured, child alert.”
“Status?” Deke’s voice, through the static.
She glanced at Jericho.
“Head trauma. Lower body stab wound. Hypothermia risk.”
She relayed the information.
The barn creaked, ancient timbers protesting the wind. Temps were dropping.
“Medical inbound,” Deke said. “Five minutes.”
A knot had formed in Jericho’s gut. Yeah, this felt all kinds of wrong.
All kinds of Mars Sorros. It hadn’t been Mars in the woods, though, so ... what? A hit man?
Except, the hunter could have finished this. Could have silenced witnesses. Instead, he’d walked away when they showed up.
