She glanced at Buck when he moved in beside Dalton. “I escaped from Grieves hurt worse than this.”
“All right. Then, let’s get you moving.”
He cleared away the debris, reaching for her left side as Buck levered her right, when suppressed fire cracked against the undercarriage, ticking and sparking outside the window. The vehicle rocked, slipping another inch as the mud beneath sloughed off, the movement outlined through the window beside Tierney’s shoulder.
Dalton curled over her, blocking any shot, mumbling under his breath. “This baby’s not gonna hold out for long. The hill’s too unstable.”
Buck focused on Tierney, on the growing circle of red eating up her bandages. He glanced at Dalton, his buddy reading the truth by the way Buck tilted his head, bit at his bottom lip.
Dalton straightened. “I’ve got my rifle in the back. I’ll go out the hatch, draw as many as I can off, then flank around. Be back in five.”
Dalton picked his way to the rear, loaded up on mags and a few frags from Buck’s weapon’s locker — handing Buck his Sig and a spare Beretta for Tierney — then shimmied out the hatch. He landed on the mud with a dull thud, his shadow moving past the skylight before laying down strafing cover fire, the sound fading left as his footsteps pounded the ground.
Buck crept back to the driver’s side, caught a glimpse of twin figures breaking off the pack, following Dalton, carbines barking, muzzles flashing bright in the dark.
“Buck.”
Her voice.
Weak. Raspy. As if it had taken all her effort just to get his name out.
He darted back to her, ignoring the way the RV shook, slipping another inch on the mud. “Right here, sweetheart.”
She licked her lips, clenching her jaw as she shifted forward. “We can’t stay. Help me up.”
He went to one knee. “You know I love you, right? That I think you’re stronger than anyone I know? But trust me, you’re not walking anywhere.”
“Beats dying in here because we won’t last five seconds, let alone the five minutes it’ll take Dalton to thin the herd, circle around.”
“You’ve got a point.” Buck took her hand in his. “I’ve got an idea. If you trust me.”
She looked him dead in the eyes. “With my soul.”
He looked around, mentally running through what he’d need to turn their liability into a Hail Mary, when a voice broke through the night.
“I know you’re in there, Tierney. There’s nowhere else to go. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Tierney inhaled, gaze snapping toward the front, chest heaving. “That’s Malcolm Whitmore.”
Buck froze.
Whitmore had been her MI6 supervisor. Had been instrumental in shifting her over to Interpol. Was currently running some security agency. Paramilitary judging by the armed response. The way the men moved.
Buck squeezed her hand. “I need you to buy me sixty seconds.”
She grinned, wet her lips, again. “I can do that.” She took a breath, twisted toward the front more. “You sold us out, Whitmore. Sent your own people into the kill zone. Why?”
Footsteps, closing in on them before Whitmore answered. “Budget reallocation. Your unit was becoming an administrative liability, and Grieves offered a solution that funded operations MI6 was too squeamish to approve.”
“Bullshit. All you ever cared about was the money.”
“Justice isn’t cheap. It comes with casualties and sacrifice. You just happened to be on the wrong side of the ledger.”
“And the fact he was going to sell me on the black market? Was that part of the plan?”
“Grieves was a businessman. He saw an opportunity, and he seized it. I can’t really fault him for that, except where you escaped. Became a loose end I couldn’t leave fluttering in the wind.” Gravel crunched along the left side, a flashlight bouncing across the hood. “All you had to do was stay gone, but you never could let things go.”
Buck motioned for her to keep talking as he rummaged through his supplies, found the frag he’d grabbed from Pike’s hunt. It took thirty seconds to map out the tripwire so the men wouldn’t see it, ensure the blast blew up and out instead of simply engulfing the entire rig, and he was ready to set the trap.
