“Fuck. No.” His jaw was set. “We’re not leaving you, Fire.”
“He’s right,” Mitch said. “If something happens to you, we’re coming for you. End of story.”
“I’m with them,” Cassidy added.
I should’ve argued, should’ve pulled rank. But every cop instinct I had was telling me they were right. Going in alone against a corrupt cop and a hostile shooter was suicide. And the look on Kayden’s face told me he’d made up his mind anyway.
I groaned. “Okay, but stay behind me. Don’t fire unless absolutely necessary.”
“Done,” Mitch said.
“Okay. We will.” Kayden squeezed my arm.
I unholstered my Glock and dropped the magazine into my palm. Eight rounds in the gun. Two full mags in my belt. Against a crooked cop, a man who knew this country better than anyone, and a grieving brother with a rifle who might or might not still be in the fight.
Not enough.
It was never going to be enough.
I slammed the magazine home and racked the slide. With the gun held low and ready, I said, “Let’s go.”
Mitch hoisted the pack onto his shoulders and led the way.
The descent off the ridge was loose scree under our boots. Every step I took sent stones sliding ahead of me. There was no quiet way to get down, and we didn’t have time for quiet anyway. I kept us tracking down through the gullies where we’d be hidden from the boulder field for as long as possible, though we lost line of sight on the cave the moment we dropped below the crest.
The screaming kept going. It came rolling up out of the country toward us, cresting and falling and cresting again. Whoever it was, they were alive enough to keep finding the breath for those cries of agony. I hoped they stayed that way.
“You still think that’s Lyle?” I asked.
“Yep,” Mitch and Kayden said at the same time.
“Jesus. I wonder who shot him.”
“Could be either of them,” Mitch said. “But if I had to bet, Bob did it. Frank’s saving his shells.”
“But why would Bob kill his own backup?” I asked.
“‘Cause he’s an asshole,” Kayden said.
I raised my hand, halting them, and we stopped at the edge of the gully. “Listen. If it was Bob who shot Lyle, then the dynamic in there has changed. He’s done with his backup. That tells me he’s past negotiation. He’s cleaning up loose ends, and he doesn’t care how it looks anymore.”
“It’s weird how we haven’t heard Frank’s shotgun yet, don’t you think?” Kayden’s face had gone as hard as the rocks behind him.
“Frank came here knowing Bob would follow,” Mitch said. “I reckon Frank’s got a dozen traps set up in there. All he needs is for Bob to step into one, and then Frank will blow his head off.”
Shit, he’s right. “We need to move faster,” I said.
We raced down the gully, across the dry creek at the bottom, and up a rocky shoulder.
The screaming had eased down to a long, broken moaning that the country carried just as well as it had carried the screaming.
Halfway up the next rise, Cassidy eased in beside me. “How bad is this going to be?” She’d lowered her voice so the men couldn’t hear.
I wanted to give her a clean, professional answer. The kind of thing Bob himself had taught me to say when civilians needed managing. We have it under control. Stay calm. Let me do my job.
But I needed to keep it real.
“I don’t know what we’re walking into, Cass. But I know Bob doesn’t plan to leave any witnesses. That’s why I need to find him first. Just stick to what we agreed.”
