Sharpshooter (6 page)

Interests? Would that be the same interested party who had sent out hits on the EOD agents in the U.S. a while back?

“You cannot tell, señorita, but your friend’s throat is bleeding. There’s a knife against his jugular, and if I don’t learn what I must know, then I will tell my associate to kill him.”

Gunner heard the sound of Sydney’s sharply indrawn breath. Then... “Gunner?”

“It’s a scratch,” he told her, keeping his voice flat. “I do worse than this when I shave in the morning.”

The knife pressed harder.

Gunner laughed. “You think this is torture? You boys need to up your game.”

“Perhaps we will,” the man said, voice snarling. “But I do not think that we need to keep both of you. We already have one hostage, why keep two more?”

Hell. He’d been afraid of this.

Logan and Cale need to hurry the hell up.

“So, which will we eliminate? The lovely lady or the man who thinks he can laugh at death?”

Gunner knew exactly what choice they needed to make. So he laughed again, mocking them, wanting to draw their attention and do anything necessary to ensure Sydney’s survival. “You aren’t killing us. You’re all talk and—”

Blood slid down his neck.

“—and when I get out of here,” Gunner continued, voice roughening, “you’ll be the ones to die.” The words were a promise. “So, what you need to be doing is running, while you still can.”

Was the gun still pressed to Sydney’s head? He hoped not. He wanted that gun—and the attention of the two men—focused just on him.

He’d buy Sydney as much survival time as he could. Cale and Logan would come, sooner or later. She just had to live until then.

My fault. I dropped my guard in the jungle. I got distracted by her. She won’t be dying for my mistake.

“Who is your hostage?” Sydney’s voice came, louder and sharper than he’d expected. She should have stayed quiet. Didn’t she realize what he was trying to do?

“You come into my jungle,” their captor said, “trying to rescue a man you don’t even know?”

“It’s my job,” Sydney snapped.

“You shouldn’t have done this job. You should have just left him to die.” There was the rustle of clothing, and Gunner saw the shadow of their captor’s body shift. He thought the man was coming toward him, but—
no.
He heard the man step closer to Sydney.

And the knife was suddenly gone from Gunner’s throat. The guard’s footsteps shuffled behind Gunner as the man moved back.

They were told, “It’s time to lose a hostage. Do you want a moment to say your goodbyes?”

Both men were near Sydney now. He could see the dark outlines of their bodies through his mask. “Don’t you even
think
of killing her!”

“As if you could stop us...”

“It’s all right, Gunner,” Sydney said at the same time. “It’s all right.”

No, it wasn’t. They should be turning their attention on him. Not her. “What kind of coward holds a woman prisoner like this?”

The men didn’t speak.

Sydney did. “Gunner, can you close your eyes?”

Because she must have on a covering just like his. She’d be able to see a little bit, just as he could. And Sydney didn’t want him seeing her die.

“Yes,” he said, even as he kept his eyes wide open. This wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t let it happen. Not to her.

He yanked on the rope that bound his wrists. Felt it give way. Just. In. Time.

“Thank you,” Sydney said softly. “And, Gunner, I—”

An explosion rocked the tent, and Gunner’s chair fell to the side. He yanked out with his hands, shattering the chair legs and pulling free from the ropes that bound his legs.

Voices were crying out. Yelling. And more explosions—they sounded like thunder, but he could feel the heat from the blasts—blasted through the camp. Footsteps pounded out of the room. More shouts.

More fire. He could smell the acrid scent.

“Sydney!”

He yanked the sack off his head and rushed to her. She’d fallen back, too, and, at first, he didn’t think she was moving at all. Had they killed her before the explosion? Had that sick jerk with the knife hurt her?

But then she groaned, and he saw her hands come up. She’d worked her wrists free, too. Of course she had. That was his Sydney.

He clawed away the ropes that bound her feet and jerked that sack from over her eyes. With his breath heaving, he stared down at her, desperately looking for blood.

Her eyes were wide and bright. As always, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he ached.

Slade’s alive.

He swallowed and pulled Sydney to her feet. “What the hell were you doing?” Gunner demanded. “I wanted their attention on me.”

She blinked, and some of the brightness seemed to leave her gaze. “Sorry, I was just doing my part to keep you breathing.” She bent down and picked up a sharp chunk of wood, one of the remnants from her chair’s legs. “You’re welcome.”

His hold on her left wrist tightened. “Next time, try to keep yourself alive instead.” Because to him, she was the priority.

Gunfire burst out into the night then, firing with a
rat-a-tat
that was too familiar to him. “Our backup is here.” Just in time. He’d have to thank Cale and Logan with a round of beer later.

After
they all got out of that jungle.

First order of business...get better weapons. That wood of Sydney’s wouldn’t last long. They’d get weapons, then hurry out there to provide support to the other EOD agents.

Moving like shadows, he and Sydney slid to the front of their tent. Their guards were gone. From what Gunner could see, chaos had taken over the camp. Men were running everywhere, shooting wildly.

Cale wouldn’t be positioned close, and those shots being fired so wildly from the rebels
wouldn’t
hit him. The guy was a sniper, too. Not ex-SEAL like Gunner, but a Ranger sniper who’d survived some of the deadliest places on earth.

Cale’s shots were deliberate, timed perfectly. Gunner realized that the explosions had been his handiwork, too. Cale knew far too much about demolitions.

Gunner scanned the area and found his target. Fifteen feet away. The man who was holding up his gun and staring into the jungle, not even glancing around to cover his back.

“I’ve got you,” Sydney said. “Go ahead.”

She’d be covering Gunner’s back. He knew he could count on her.

He might be a sniper, but he could still handle up close combat just fine. He’d learned those fighting techniques long before he’d let Uncle Sam talk him into being all he could be.

Gunner rushed silently forward. His target never had a chance to fight him, much less to fire his weapon. Gunner swiped out with his hands, an attack designed to take out his opponent, and before the man’s body fell, Gunner had the fellow’s gun in his hand.

One weapon down.

He looked up, saw that Sydney was close. She gave him a grim nod.

Just then one of the guards ran out of another tent, screaming and aiming his gun at her head.

No.
Gunner lifted his gun instantly. Sydney must have read the danger in his eyes because she dropped to the ground, giving him the perfect shot.

But as he fired, another blast thundered.

Two bullets hit the guard, stopping his attack.

Cale? Probably. The other sniper was doing his job and making sure they got out of there alive.

Sydney didn’t stand. Instead, she crawled quickly toward the downed man and took his weapon.

Now that they were both better armed, it was time to search. Because they weren’t running out of that camp, weren’t fleeing. They’d come there for a reason.

Find the hostage.
They’d complete their mission.

We’re coming, Slade.

Most of the rebels were fleeing. Some jumped into old trucks; others just ran into the jungle. The explosions had scared them. It looked as though they weren’t quite up for trading their lives for their cause.

The more of them that left, well, the easier the EOD’s mission became. He and Sydney searched the tents, one after the other. Deserted. Burning. No sign of Slade.

But he
had
to be there.

Or...maybe he was close by. Just through the patch of jungle on the right, Gunner could see the outline of old stones. Big, sprawling, the structure looked like some kind of deserted temple.

Sydney was already nodding, because she’d spotted the structure, too. Gunfire erupted behind Gunner, and he turned, firing back. “Go!” he ordered Sydney. If Slade was out there, they had to get to him. He could be hurt, dying...

Gunner saw Logan appear, and the team leader joined the firefight. Sydney rushed toward the temple.

The bullets kept coming. A lucky shot grazed Gunner’s left arm, and he clenched his teeth at the flash of pain.

Then he took aim at the men coming for him.

Chapter Four

Sydney’s heartbeat echoed in her ears as she ran toward the narrow entrance to what she could only guess was some kind of crumbling temple. Giant slabs of white rock were turned, forming the sloping entrance. But...there was light coming from inside that temple. And where there was light...

Sydney lifted her gun and went in low. She didn’t know what kind of angry reception she’d find waiting for her, but she had to do this search and get back to help Gunner. She had to—

A man was tied to a chair, bound, the way she’d been moments before. He looked like the same man she’d seen in the jungle, because he was wearing that same brown sack over his head. A lantern sat near his feet, revealing his old, ragged pants.

She approached him cautiously. No one else appeared to be in the area, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She checked every shadowed space, then eased closer to the bound man.

He stiffened as she drew nearer. His sagging head snapped up. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

She wanted to say the voice was familiar to her. Gunner had been so sure it was Slade’s voice that they’d heard in the jungle. But Sydney just didn’t know. The only voice she knew by heart?

Gunner’s rough, rumbling drawl.

“I’m here to help you,” she whispered to him. She’d shoved that sharp chunk of wood in her belt, and now she pulled it out and began to saw against his binds with it. “Don’t move.”

But a shudder ran the length of the man’s body. “Talk to me again. I know...”

She frowned at him. She should just take off the sack, find out for certain who this man was. But she was afraid.

And she wasn’t usually afraid.

“What do you know?” Sydney asked him.

“I know...” A heaving breath.
“You.”

Her makeshift weapon cut through the binds on his wrists. There was no rope on his ankles, and he surged to his feet. As he turned toward her, he yanked off the sack that covered his head. In that dim lantern light, Sydney got her first look at the hostage’s face.

The world seemed to slow its spinning.

His hair was longer, his beard heavy, but...those cheekbones. That hawkish nose.

“Sydney...”

He yanked her into his arms. His mouth pressed to hers, and she was so stunned that she couldn’t respond, couldn’t move at all.

Slade?

He’d been alive. They’d left him, and he’d been...alive.

His mouth was hard on hers. So hard.

She pulled back, staring up at him in shock. “Slade?”

She realized the gunfire had stopped.
A good sign...or a very bad one.
Sydney pushed away from Slade and glanced toward that sloping entrance.

A man stood there. Tall, with wide shoulders, armed. A man who’d been watching them.

He stepped forward, and the lantern light spilled onto Gunner. It was too dark for her to see the expression in his eyes, but his body looked tense.

“Slade?” Gunner’s voice was hoarse as he lowered his weapon.

Slowly, Slade turned to face his brother. Slade was thinner—
much thinner
—than he’d been before.

Two years.

Gunner began to walk toward Slade with slow, hesitant steps. “I—I thought you were dead.”

Slade shuffled toward him, limping slightly.

Gunner lifted his arms to embrace his brother.

Slade drove his fist into Gunner’s jaw.

“Slade!” Sydney shouted.

But Slade wasn’t stopping. He attacked Gunner, pummeling him with his fists, kicking him with his legs. Again and again.

Gunner didn’t fight back. Didn’t try to land a blow, didn’t try to block any of the attacks. Gunner fell, and Slade kicked his ribs. Driving in hard with his boot-covered feet.

“Stop!” Sydney grabbed Slade’s arm. But he swung around and shoved her back, so hard that she slammed into the rough wall behind her.

“Sydney?” Gunner’s growl. And he was rising then.

Even as Slade stood over
her
now, with his fist drawn back as if he’d strike her.

He’s been through hell. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.
Sydney cleared her throat. “You have to calm down, Slade.”

Gunfire burst again, sounding as if the blasts came from just yards away.

Sydney shook her head and rose fully to her feet. She kept her gun in her hand. She’d do whatever was necessary to stop the men from tearing each other apart. “We have to get out of here. Do you understand?”

Slade’s breaths sawed in and out of his lungs.

“Slade, do you understand?” There wasn’t time to waste. The rebels who’d fled before...what if they’d gone out to get reinforcements? Their EOD team was good, but it was just the four of them against a small army.

Slade nodded. “I...understand.”

Gunner was on his feet. Blood dripped from his busted lip.

“Then you stay between me and Gunner when we go out of here. You do exactly what we say.”

Slade glanced at Gunner. Even in the dark, she could feel Slade’s rage.

Rage? At the brother he’d loved so much?

More gunfire. Then...silence.

“Let’s go,” Sydney whispered. She had to focus on just getting Slade out of there. They’d deal with everything else once they were in a secure location. The temple looked as if it would fall on them all any second. Not secure at all.

She led the men out, and Gunner closed in behind Slade. She searched first, making sure it was clear to run, and then they were moving, rushing forward and staying within the cover of trees as much as possible.

And she saw Logan firing at a man who’d rushed up toward him. The man fell, and Logan kept running, motioning for Sydney and her group to join him.

She was more than happy to follow him out of that place.

They went to the left, to the right, following a trail that only existed in Logan’s mind. Then, beneath the hanging vines of a twisted tree, she saw a jeep, half-hidden by the foliage. Logan jumped in the front of the vehicle.

“Get in!” Logan yelled.

She grabbed Slade’s arm and helped hoist him inside and as soon as his feet touched down—

Gunner knocked Sydney to the ground. Two
cracks
of gunfire sounded, and a bullet slammed into the jeep, exactly where she had been about two seconds ago.

His gaze bored into hers. The sun was just starting to rise, still not giving her enough light to gauge the expression in his eyes, and she wished that she could see so much more.

Logan returned fire on the enemy.

Gunner hauled her up, shielded her with his body, and all but tossed her into the jeep.

Then Logan was taking off and rushing away from the battle. Yanking on the wheel, finding a road—well, not a road so much, just a space between trees that most would never have known existed.

The jeep slowed for an instant, and Cale jumped from the shadows and slid into the back.

Then they kept going.

Faster, faster.

Until the gunfire sounded like fireworks in the distance. Until Sydney could breathe without tasting smoke.

She looked around her slowly. Gunner was pressed tightly to her side, and he had a hard grip on her wrist, as if he were afraid that she was going to try to get away from him.

Slade was on his other side. Not speaking. Barely seeming to move at all.

She stared down at Gunner’s hand. Very slowly, his hold eased.

Then he wasn’t holding her at all.

“Slade Ortez?” Logan said as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Yes.” A word that barely rose above the roar of the motor.

“You’re going to be safe now,” Logan told him. “We’re going to get you home.”

Gunner wasn’t touching her now, wasn’t looking at anyone.

She frowned at him, and realized that she could smell blood.

Sydney’s hands flew over Gunner.

“Stop!” he told her.

She wasn’t going to stop touching him because, right there, high on his left shoulder, she’d just felt something wet and sticky. Blood. “You were shot.”

His fingers curled around hers. Pushed her hand away. “It’s nothing.”

Yes, it was a
bullet wound.
Not some nick. “Is the bullet still in you?”

He didn’t answer, and that silence
was
an answer for her.

“You deserve more than that!”
came Slade’s snarling voice.
“Brother.”
The word sounded like a curse. “You deserve to die.”

Sydney gasped at the words. “Slade, you don’t even know what you’re saying!” She remembered Gunner shoving her to the ground. The bullet that had hit the side of the jeep. Only...hadn’t she heard two shots then? Two shots, but only one bullet had gone into the jeep.

The other bullet had been meant to go in her.

Gunner took a bullet for me.

“I know...exactly...what I’m saying,” Slade growled.

No, he didn’t. He’d been in captivity. Been hurt, tortured, but the man talking, that
wasn’t
the man she knew. “Gunner just risked his life for you.”

They all had.

“The bullet has to come out,” she whispered to Gunner. She tried to inspect the wound again.

He gave a grim nod. But...he pushed her hand away once more.

The move just hurt.

“When we’re secure,” Gunner said, no emotion slipping into his voice. “I can handle it ’til then.”

Of course he could. Gunner could handle anything. Handle it, and keep on going. Never showing emotion.

While emotions were about to rip her apart.

They didn’t immediately head for civilization. If they were being tailed, they didn’t want anyone following them.

They changed vehicles. Once. Twice. Logan picked up the emergency cash that had been sent ahead for the mission, and only
then
did they head back for the coast. The sun was rising in the sky, and Sydney glanced over to see the haggard lines on Slade’s face.

He’d aged ten years in two.

The laughing man she’d known was gone. He’d never be coming back.

And as for Gunner...

His eyes weren’t meeting hers. He talked only when he had to do so, and the scent of his blood was still heavy in the air.

She pulled her gaze from his. The jungle was behind them, the gunfire just a memory. They’d all changed clothes at their last stop. Gunner had shoved a makeshift bandage over his wound, to stop the blood from leaking through to his clothes.

They didn’t look as if they’d just spent the night in the jungle. More as if they’d just been partying too much.

Except for Slade. New clothes hadn’t been able to change his appearance that much. Gaunt, grizzled. He would need more care than a five-minute pit stop could give him.

They weren’t headed back to their original resort. No, she’d made different arrangements for their accommodations postrescue. It was always important to switch bases—the better to throw off the enemy—and she’d planned for the switch.

They were headed to villas now, private villas on the beach. High-end, far away from anything but luxury. Not a place the rebel group should think to look for government agents. And that was why it would be such a perfect hiding spot.

Not that they’d be hiding for long. Soon enough, they’d all be heading back for the U.S.

Logan and Cale took care of getting the keys to the villas. Three of them, all far away from the rest, nestled on a secluded strip of beach.

Slade climbed from the vehicle, and, for a moment, he just stared at that long, stretching coast.

Gunner followed him out, and Sydney caught the faint tremble of his body.
Get the bullet out.
Her gaze met Cale’s, and the ex-Ranger gave a quick nod.

They forced Gunner into the first villa. Literally had to drag the guy in.

But they got him in.

“I can handle this!” Gunner muttered.

Logan tossed Sydney a first aid bag. She caught it easily and shot a glare at Gunner. “No,” she said definitely, “you can’t.” She sucked in a breath, then ordered, “Now take off that shirt.”

Slade, Logan and Cale were all in the villa, but it was a big space, with a living area, a kitchen and two bedrooms.

Gunner stripped off his shirt, and the breath she’d just sucked in burned in her throat at the sight of his bloody shoulder. “Lie down, Gunner. Go get on the bed.” She hurried to the bathroom in order to get soap and water.

When she came back, Gunner was lying tensely on the bed. Logan and Cale had Slade in the living area, giving her some privacy to work on Gunner.

She leaned over the bed, her knee dipping into the mattress.

Gunner caught her hand. “Don’t tell him,” he growled.

Her eyebrows lowered. “What are you talking about?” But the tightness in her gut told her even before he said...

“Don’t tell Slade about us.” The words seemed so cold. Or maybe she was just cold. “He doesn’t ever need to know.”

He could have just slapped her. “What about what I need?”

His jaw locked. “You need
him,
right?” he gritted out. “He was the one you loved. The one you were going to marry.”

She pulled her hand from him and went to work cleaning his wound. She would
not
look into his eyes. Now she was the one who didn’t want to see what expression stared back at her.

“I—I don’t have anything to numb the area.”

“Pain doesn’t matter.”

Always so tough. “Why do you have to pretend you don’t feel?” The words tore from her. “When we both know that you do.”

“Feeling can be dangerous.”

She hadn’t expected that answer, and, helplessly, her gaze flew back up to his.

His dark stare was burning with emotion, with
feeling.

“So dangerous,” he whispered.

Her heart slammed into her ribs. She put her left hand on his shoulder, carefully; then she used tweezers that she’d sterilized to go into the wound. She was lucky. No, he was. The bullet hadn’t fragmented. She pulled it out, wincing for him, but of course, the man made of steel didn’t even flinch.

She cleaned the wound, got a better bandage and finished patching him up.

Then she kept...touching him.

Why was touching him such an addiction to her? Warm skin, hard muscles.