Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Then follow the plan. You wanted the gun, you got it. For once in your damn life, fall back and follow orders. Leave this to the guys actually trained to do it. What are your orders?”
I grit my teeth, unused to following anyone else’s lead. “If I see a bad guy,” I say stonily, “shoot him.”
“And?” He cocks one thick eyebrow at me, looking very The Rock-ish.
“Don’t get my ass killed.”
CHAPTER 8
LENNIX
“Get up!”
Abe’s barked order makes my heart somersault and my belly flop.
Is it time? I have no concept of how long it’s been since he recorded that video and flipped an hourglass on my life. I’ve felt the sand falling, every grain piling up, taking me closer to a gruesome end. Now that I’m facing my own death, I want to comport myself with honor—to die unflinchingly. For my enemy to see war in my eyes even as the life drains from them. How did my ancestors feel with an army ahead of them and certain death behind? The warriors at the Leap, who jumped from a cliff instead of surrendering? Did panic crawl up from their bellies, the insidious thief of courage? Or were they brave, resolved until their last breath?
In the near-dark of the cave, I hope there is just enough light for this monster to catch defiance in my glare when I stand and look at him.
“You, too, Dr. Murrow.” He kicks Wallace’s leg and flicks his head toward the opening of the cave, swinging his automatic rifle between us. “Move.”
Wallace stands, and we share a quick, confused glance.
“I said”—he pokes Wallace in the hip with the gun—“move.”
We take a few cautious steps toward the mouth of the cave. Is there a camera out there? Will he shoot me out in the open? Will he make Wallace watch? I have no idea what’s about to happen. Fear claws through my skin, and anxiety leaks from every pore. Wallace stretches his cuffed hands toward mine and gives my fingers a reassuring squeeze.
Outside, I squint against the sudden brightness of the sun. Nixon stands with the six other men who have shadowed our every move, traveling with us since the brothers intercepted our jeep on the narrow mountain trail.
“Where’d you say you saw movement?” Abe asks, his big body deceptively relaxed. I sense tension coiled in his every muscle, tightening every line, even though on the surface, he seems almost indolent, his blue eyes placid behind the mask.
“Down there,” one of the dark-haired men replies in heavily accented English, pointing toward the river barely visible through the tall trees and tangled foliage below. “I counted ten men.”
I hold back a gasp of relief. Movement? Ten men? Has someone found us? Has Maxim found us? I caress my compass charm, a touchstone for the dregs of faith I’m drawing from.
“Ten, you say?” Nixon frowns. “We gotta move then.”
“Yup,” Abe agrees. “And we need to travel light. You know what that means.”
“Plan B?” Nixon asks flatly.
“Plan B.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Abe fires in quick succession, shooting each of the three men to his left in the forehead. In a cruel choreography, Nixon executes the three other men with clean shots through their foreheads, too. The men fall like dominos, some still wearing the wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed expressions of sudden death.
“Shit!” Wallace shouts. He closes his eyes, clamping his lips together so tightly, a white ring forms around his mouth.
I swallow a sob, refusing to show Abe and Nixon my horror, my terror. I deaden my eyes, focusing on a point above where the mountain range kisses the sky. I even suppress the hope springing in my heart at the possibility that someone has found us. That someone is coming for us.
Maxim?
I shift my glance to the monster with the cherubic curls, and for one mad moment, I want to urge him to hurry. To put as much distance between us and our potential rescuer as possible. I’ve seen him kill Paco and the six men on his own team in cold blood and with a heart of stone. He could kill Maxim. My imagination conjures the awful vision of Maxim slumped to the ground, a bullet through his head, that same startled death stare stamped on his face.
“Let’s go,” Abe says, stepping over one of the dead bodies and shoving the gun’s barrel into my side. “Move.”
I step quickly in the direction he pushes me, glancing over my shoulder to see Nixon poke Wallace, who walks up and falls into step beside me. Our backs are to them, and Wallace slants a sideways smile my way, one filled with surreptitious excitement and hope. With a set of malevolent eyes burning blue fire in the back of my head, I don’t even dare smile back.
“I hope we don’t regret going to Plan B so soon,” Nixon says just a little behind us.