“We will take your wallet and your passport,” Scarface told him. “But it’s your family who will pay. You’ll see.”
“You’re kidnapping me?” He did something he hadn’t done in years and pushed his Australian accent to the front. And hoped like hell his tone said surprise, and not are you shitting me right now, dumbass. But eh, he went for it anyway. “I’m nobody and I’ve got no family. There is no point in kidnapping someone who has nobody to pay the ransom.”
“This is what they all say.” Scarface told him, “It will not go well for you if this is true.”
“Your English is hard to understand.” the second man spoke up. “Where are you from?”
Oh, maybe I can enunciate a little more clearly with my knuckles or maybe my Glock will help you understand better?
Nope! Swat!Shut up!
He gave himself a mental clip around the ear. They were too far away to punch yet, and too close for him to risk bolting or reaching for his weapon. Just his fucking luck to run into some people looking to kidnap a foreigner for ransom.
“You're not American?” Scarface stepped closer.
Yeah, don’t come closer, asshole.“No.” He sidestepped to the right, bringing him closer to the edge of the path, readying for the fight he knew he was about to have. Or maybe it was the flight he was about to have. Bah, fight or flight, this was the choice he had to make, and by the look of fury on his potential kidnappers' faces, he’d better decide—fast.
“Shoot him.” Scarface ordered the other one, “If he’s not American, then he is of no use to the boss.”
The second man levered a round into the chamber of the weapon he held, “And dead men can’t warn others.” His mouth twisted into a feral grin, showcasing his rotting middle front teeth.
Now or never, move your ass.
Cade dived sideways, rolling as he landed through the trees. Bullets sprayed over his head.Fuckers!Bouncing to his feet mid-roll, he made the most of the few seconds his surprise move had gained him and ran. Grateful for the training that meant he could run almost silently through the scrub land, he used every trick and skill he had learned to his advantage.
Jumping down the gully, he booted it as silently as he could across the open space in front of him.Zig zag, keep moving, it’s harder to hit a moving target.He had the worst fucking luck stumbling into these assholes. He knew at least one was part of El’ Mencho’s cartel. He swerved left as a bullet slammed off the tree to his right.Did the shooting at your ass give it away?
Moving steadily upward left him exposed, but he had no other choice. Well, unless he wanted to explain the need for body bags and a shovel to his bosses. That would so be a fun conversation… Not. Cade wound his way up the hill, taking any cover he could, and using it to his advantage. Branches and brambles snagged at his T-shirt, his pants. The soles of his boots slipped as he approached the lip of the ridge. Normally, he would scout the area. He had planned to. Had wanted to make sure there was nobody around. Next to him, something bounced off a rock. Fuck, he knew what that was. That was a tranquilizer dart. Did they not want to kill him anymore or were they out of bullets? It didn’t matter though; capture may be worse than dead when it came to dealing with the cartels.
Fuck this.Cade bunched his thighs, his legs pumping as he ran. He had seconds to find a place to hide once he crested the hill. For the first time he used his weapon, firing a couple of shots from his Glock 19. It was stupid to not have brought extra mags. But damn it, he hadn’t expected to need more than the fifteen rounds he had.Thirteen now.He reminded himself.
Cresting the ridge, he pushed himself harder. But a searing pain in his ass, followed by numbness, told him he’d been hit. He already could feel the pins and needles racing down his legs at more speed than he would have liked. But damn it, the blood raced faster through his veins, helped along by the running he had done in trying to escape his would be kidnappers.
Avoid the edge, avoid the edge.But Cade knew it was already too late. His body refused to listen, or to do what it was told. Despite his mental will to not fall off the edge of the goat track, he went over the edge. His body rolled and fell until he landed under a gorse bush. All he could do now was wait.
“Did you hit him?”
“I thought so.”
“Obviously not, idiot, he’s gone.”
The chaser’s words were the last he heard, before his body gave up the fight against the sedative and everything went dark.
Chapter Eight
Rio frowned at the computer screen—this was the fourth time he had tried to contact his handlers. Both the CIA and DEA were ignoring him. If they didn’t pull their fingers out of their asses, they were going to lose this opportunity to do more damage to not only El’ Mencho but also to his father.
He had saved numerous emails to the drafts folder of the email address he used to communicate with his handlers. Something was seriously wrong. Why the hell were they not responding? Ugh, there was nothing else for it… he would have to go into town and try to call from a pay phone or something. He didn’t dare use his cell. Not after he’d found that damn chip in it last week.
The sound of faint gunfire pulled his attention away from the computer. “What the hell?” Rio carefully closed out of the email window and shut down the TOR browser, before striding to the window. He knew those precious seconds he took to cover his ass, might prevent him from seeing what was going on. But in this place, this deep in the national park, gunfire was unusual.
The weight of his own handgun resting against his skin was comforting. He didn’t think anyone would come for him. His father had called in a favor from his partner in crime, El’ Mencho, and stashed Rio here in his grandmother’s house. Not that it was a hardship, Rio freaking loved it here, and that he was out from under his father’s grief as he mourned the son killed in Brazil. Well, that was an extra perk.
Peering out the window at the overhanging valley above him, he squinted, sure he was seeing things.Is that movement?He grabbed the binoculars he’d left on the table last night, after his trip to look for the baby collared peccaries yesterday. Glimpsing the four newborn baby musk pigs with their distinctive red coloring had been the highlight of his week. The almost fifty-strong herd were lucky to live in this area of the national park, the protected zone was off limits to hunters. His own ability to live here was only made possible by virtue that this house had been in his family for generations.
More shots had him scanning the hillside, “There is definitely something there.” Moving the dials, he zoomed in closer, moving in an upward scan starting at the fence line that marked his property. “Fuck.” By the time the view of the top of the ridge became clear in his glass’s lens, Rio was swearing. He recognized those two. They worked for El’ Mencho. If he had needed proof that his father had insisted that he be watched, this was probably it. But why the hell were they shooting? Through his glasses, he watched Juan and his sidekick leave.
Rio kept scanning, looking for what the target had been. If they had been hunting an animal, while it was forbidden, surely they would have taken the carcass with them… right? He had more or less decided he would go look. If those assholes had shot one of those babies, then he would make sure they paid. Heading to the door for his boots. He’d go look. It couldn’t hurt to check… right?
