Ruthless Game

CHAPTER 9

“You said when you came back with more information we were going to discuss this, Kane. You just told me Fargo was already gone.” Rose stood directly in front of Kane, refusing to be intimidated by the sheer size and enormous strength of him.

Kane took a step toward her, towering over her. “I didn’t expect him to leave so damned soon. It means Carlson will be getting his courage up to defy Whitney without Fargo as a deterrent. If I kill them both, we’ll be forced to leave because no one will be reporting to Whitney. He’ll know they’re dead, and he’ll send a force after us. Mack hasn’t contacted us, and you said yourself the baby needs more time.”

Rose breathed away her fury. She wasn’t really angry at Kane, just the situation. Was she never going to be free of men like Fargo and Carlson? “All right then. You won’t go after him. Then you watch the baby and I’ll go. Because, Kane, one of us has to do it.”

Kane shook his head, no expression on his face. His eyes had gone flat and cold, something Rose recognized as trouble. “I thought about it. How could I not? Fargo will find some poor woman and drag her back ...”

“Rape her,” Rose said. “Just say it, Kane.”

“Damn it, yes, but you and I both know Carlson will be coming here tonight. I can’t leave you and Sebastian unprotected. It’s a hell of a choice, but it’s my choice. You and Sebastian come first every time. I’ve had to make worse choices, and I’ve lived with them.”

He was not going to apologize for choosing her over a stranger. Carlson would come for her, he knew it with every breath in his body, and he damn well wasn’t leaving her and the baby to the depraved, diseased mind of Carlson James.

Rose took a breath and let it out. It wasn’t quite the easy decision for Kane as he was making it out to be. She could see the distaste in his eyes.

He held up his hand, preventing her from speaking. “I’ve thought a lot about this before I ever told you, Rose. Carlson will come. I’ll take care of him and then—only then—I’ll go after Fargo.”

“I understand why you think it’s necessary to protect us from Carlson, but really, it isn’t, Kane.” How could she convince him? He was a man’s man. He believed that it was his duty to protect her, and in truth, she liked that quality in him. Right at this moment, though, it was a bit bothersome, but it didn’t make him less appealing to her. “I don’t want any woman to spend five minutes in Fargo’s hands. I trust you to go out there on your own and stop that man. Do you really have less faith in me?”

Kane opened his mouth and shut it, scowling at her.

Rose shook her head, continuing the attack while she had him. “I have no doubts that I can protect Sebastian. If Carlson makes an appearance, have no worries; this time I won’t be tied up and helpless when he comes to visit.”

She remembered every single moment of his visits. His foul-smelling breath. The depraved look in his eyes. His hands roving her body freely as if she were his possession. He had never gotten the chance to actually have sex with her, but he’d certainly treated her to a taste of what he would do given the chance. She despised the man. “He touched me, and I wanted to throw up. I’m not going to allow some other woman to have that happen to her if I can prevent it. You can glower at me all you want, but we’re wasting time here.”

He shook his head. “You can’t go, Rose. You know you can’t.”

“Then you have to. It’s either you or me. That’s the only choice.”

He swore. “Then I’ll kill Carlson now, go after Fargo, and we’ll leave tonight. We’ll be one day ahead of Whitney.”

Rose glanced toward the bedroom where the baby slept. “Whitney can track us because of my tattoo. He’ll send his men after us, Kane. Go after Fargo. You can make him disappear. If Carlson doesn’t make his try, we can give your unit another day to find us. Carlson will have to report to Whitney that Fargo went into town.”

She saw his jaw harden. His eyes went so bleak and cold she shivered. There were depths to Kane she didn’t know yet. He looked unyielding, but he took a step toward her, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, forcing her to step into him. She smelled him, that faint masculine scent that was all outdoors and predator. The scent enveloped her. Her heart skidded to a halt and then began to pound. He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.

Her body, of its own accord, melted into his. She felt every single weapon imprinted on her skin, but most of all, she felt the explosion of heat from his mouth to hers. Fire raced down her throat and entered her bloodstream, melting her from the inside out. When he lifted his head, she stared at him a little dazzled, uncertain what to think or even how to think.

“Get the baby ready to leave. Follow the tunnel to the end and check out the Humvee in case we need it. Pack supplies and everything warm you can for Sebastian. Choose weapons we both can handle with as many rounds of ammo you can find for them. Don’t forget water.”

“What are you doing?”

“Whatever is necessary. You’re a soldier. Figure it out.” He turned and left her standing there, her heart pounding.

There was no arguing with him. She recognized that now. He’d been malleable and sweet, but only up to a point. Kane had his own brand of honor, and no one—not even her—was going to deter him when he felt he was right. She should have known. She recognized a dangerous man when she saw one, and she had chosen him in part because he was dangerous—she knew if she got away from Whitney, Kane would fight with his last breath to keep her safe. Now that she’d seen what that entailed, she couldn’t very well be angry at him.

She ran to the door, stopping him right before he opened it. “Kane.”

He turned to look at her with his piercing, implacable eyes.

“Be safe. Come back to us.”

“No worries, sweetheart.”

Kane flashed Rose a smile and slipped out into the night where he belonged. There was freedom in darkness. He was born to rule the night. He looked up at the night sky. Stars were everywhere, and he could see the thick swirling ribbon that was the Milky Way. The tight knots that had developed when Rose argued with him unraveled, and everything in him settled. This was his world. He was familiar with it, comfortable in it. This was where he belonged.

Now that he’d made up his mind, there was no hesitation. Rose couldn’t live with Fargo’s actions, and that meant both Carlson and Fargo died tonight. Carlson had to go first, because no matter how good a soldier Rose was, she was first and foremost his woman, and that meant he protected her whether she liked it or not. That was the biggest part of his personality, and she’d better understand it wasn’t going away because she was a capable—even brilliant—soldier. He would never knowingly expose her to danger and certainly not a week after she’d given birth.

He shook his head at the peculiarities of women. He would never understand Rose, not if they lived together a million years, and he could see that she was having the same problem understanding him. Was it like that with all men and women? Or just men like him? He could be a first-class bastard if the situation called for it. He didn’t have a lot of experience in relationships. He’d avoided entanglements until he’d seen Rose looking at him through her window. She had become his princess in the tower, and he was the white knight to the rescue.

Kane began to run, the easy, steady pace he could keep for hours if need be. He was familiar with the terrain now, having gone over it three times in every twenty-four-hour period for a week. He knew every boulder and shrub. He knew every patch of saw grass and the dark, rich patches that indicated an underground source of water.

He approached the enemy camp from the south, staying downwind. He could see a faint light but couldn’t see the source immediately. Dropping lower, so as not to skyline himself, he slowed his pace, moving with stealth as he stalked his prey. The overpowering stench of blood hit him as he reached the top of the slope overlooking the base camp.

Carlson and Fargo had tucked their camp between slopes, enabling them to have a fire when they wanted to, as well as shelter. Unless you came right up on them, the site was impossible to see. Empty bottles were strewn around on the ground. This was no soldier’s encampment, rather it looked like a couple of men enjoying a vacation.

Great globs of blood left a trail in the sand, dark, obscene smear marks that led toward the faint flickering light. An agonized scream, animalistic, impossible to identify, sent chills down Kane’s spine. He’d seen men tortured and had been on the receiving end a time or two and knew that sound. Laughter rang out, then the low murmur of a voice.

“Hey, don’t die on me. It’s going to be a long night before the real entertainment gets here. You’re helping me out, suffering for a good cause and all. A little pain is good for the soul. I need something to make me feel good. My little whore of a woman is about to have another man’s baby, and I’m pissed.”

The terrible squeal came again, more animal than man. The sound made the hairs on Kane’s neck stand up. The stench was awful. Carlson was a sadistic bastard. If torturing a man—or an animal—made him feel better, something was seriously off about the man.

A part of Kane had actually felt a little sorry for him. He knew what it was like to crave Rose, to think about her night and day, to dream of her when he managed to close his eyes and nothing—no one else—was going to sate the ever-present hunger for her body. Kane knew he could have sex with hundreds of women, and none of them would ever satisfy him again. He’d accepted that premise when he’d signed on to be paired with her. Had Carlson had a choice as well? It didn’t matter now. All that mattered now was stopping the son of a bitch.

He dropped even lower, topping the slope. Rocks surrounded a small fire. A makeshift rack made of two thick sticks with a third suspended between them hung just to the left of the fire. Two coyotes hung there, still alive, panting and shuddering in pain. Blood dripped steadily into a dark, blackened pool beneath each of them. A crude arrow protruded from each body.

Carlson had obviously done this many times. Neither arrow had struck anything vital but had incapacitated the animals. A third coyote lay stretched out in front of Carlson, pinned through his body with a circular wooden stake. The animal continually tried to crawl away, only to be held back by the stake. Every movement had to be causing excruciating pain. Carlson crouched over the animal, poking at it with a knife. Several patches of fur were missing. If the animal bled too much, he cauterized the wound and waited a few minutes to start again. Clearly he was skinning the animal alive.

He poked the coyote again and laughed harshly when the creature snapped at him, the air, and finally his own leg. “I can’t have you trying to bite me, now can I?” Carlson murmured. “I wonder what will happen if I just take this one eye right here?” He plunged the tip of his knife into the flames and waited until it was glowing hot.

Sickened, Kane eased himself into a good position and put his rifle to his shoulder, finger on the trigger as he took aim. As Carlson leaned in to take the coyote’s eye, Kane shot him through the back of his neck. It was a kill shot, pure and simple, and Kane didn’t miss. He shot the coyote, putting him out of his misery, and then shot the other two that were hanging, waiting to be tortured.

He eased his body back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He’d run across a few sadistic men in his time, but this man had all the makings of a killer. He was practically bathing in blood. Did Whitney know? Had he delved into Carlson’s background? If he had, he would never have allowed this man to create a child with Rose. Whitney wanted soldiers. Men loyal to their country. Men willing to fight for a cause, not kill indiscriminately.

He had to cover his tracks, leave the body where it lay, so Whitney wouldn’t be able to know for certain who had killed his man. Whitney wouldn’t hear from either of them late the next evening, and he would send a team to collect Rose.

Kane took care of his rifle first, as always, and then blew sand across his tracks as he made his way back toward town. Once away from the actual camp area, he didn’t worry about his tracks. He began to run, using his steady, ground-eating pace. Fargo had a good head start on him and he would be moving fast, wanting to kidnap a woman while it was still dark and get back to camp before anyone was the wiser.

He worried about leaving Rose and the baby alone for so long while he covered the miles to the town. The sand seemed to stretch in front of him forever. He had a good sense of direction, but without a GPS or the stars, he might have had a difficult time locating the town. He expected to overtake Fargo. His entire unit was abnormally fast runners, even in full combat gear. Few could match them. He definitely should have caught up with Fargo.

The fact that he never came up on the man meant either of two things: Fargo had taken a different route, or one of his gifts was his speed. Whitney had enhanced their physical capabilities by playing around with their DNA—something that was never part of the original contract for psychic enhancement. Had he done the same to his soldiers, even knowing they were psychologically flawed?

Kane swore softly, swerving to find a dark patch of richer sand and dirt so he could crouch low and give it some thought. If Fargo had already made it into town, it would be stupid to follow him. There were too many ways the man could slip past him in such a wide-open desert. He swore again as he cast back and forth for signs that someone had followed this route into town. It was the most direct route, and he couldn’t imagine that there was any reason for Fargo to take any other.

If Fargo managed to slip past him and make his way back to the base camp, he would find Carlson and the dead coyotes. “Damn it!” he said aloud. If he’d just done what he thought was best and stayed with Rose and the baby, waiting for Carlson to make his move, he would know she was safe. As it was, he had no hope of finding Fargo in the vast desert.

The only thing left to do was to return to the base camp and hope he beat Fargo to it. Why in the hell had he ever allowed Rose to persuade him against his better judgment?

Resolutely he turned back and began to trot across the rolling sand. He’d have to stake out the camp. The unfortunate woman Fargo returned with would have to be dealt with after the fact; it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t prevent Fargo from grabbing her, but the man wouldn’t have a chance to use her unless he took the time to stop along the way. And was he going to force her to walk across the desert?

Kane stopped abruptly. No way would Fargo do that. He had to have a vehicle somewhere, which meant ... He groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. What the hell was the matter with him? Of course they had someone in town. Whitney would have sent at least one, possibly two to back them up, to watch over them. He expected them to screw up. He was documenting everything in his microworld of experimentation of the human spirit. Who was watching the watchers?

“Stupid, stupid mistake,” he hissed between his teeth and set out running back to Rose.

He didn’t have to worry about burning himself out with running for miles. His lungs and heart were made for running. He covered the ground fast, not bothering to look for Fargo. They were in trouble, no doubt about it, and the only concern was to get out of the trap they were in.

As he neared the subterranean house, he used telepathy. Rose! Answer me now. Are you okay? Have you been attacked?

The lag time before he felt her stirring in his mind seemed forever. His mouth went dry and his heart pounded, not from the run, but from very real fear. Was he too late? Had someone already attacked the house?

Everything’s quiet here, Kane. What’s wrong?

Inside the kitchen I’ve been constructing a baby seat for Sebastian. It’s as good as we can get for his protection. Did you get the supplies into the Humvee like I told you?

Of course. She was obviously on the move, he could tell by her voice and the distraction.

Rose dragged on her jacket and a belt loaded with weapons and ammunition, put the baby in a front pack, and caught up her gun. I’m dressed and have the baby. Going into the kitchen now.

Kane circled the house and continued on toward the back entrance where the tunnel emerged. I’m clearing the back, so don’t shoot me. Get the baby secured, put the weapons where I can easily reach them. You’re the driver. We’re going to blast out of there and hightail it away from the town back toward the border.

We’re you able to free the woman?

Of course she would be asking him that. She’d been a prisoner, and had he not accepted Whitney’s proposal to be paired with her, eventually they would have forced someone on her. She didn’t want another woman to suffer at the hands of a brutal man. He couldn’t blame her, but right now, he had to think about Rose and Sebastian.

No, Fargo had too big a head start.

He could feel her in his mind, quiet. Thoughtful. If Fargo reached town and more than likely went to a bar to drink, that’s where he’d grab the woman. But how was he planning on getting her back to his camp?

Oh yeah. That was his woman. Intelligent all the way. Fargo sure wasn’t going to be dragging a woman across the rolling hills for miles. He would have a vehicle, one that was more than likely stashed for them when they had to go into town for supplies. Diego Jimenez had done that very thing, keeping his truck in a garage just waiting for him.

Kane answered her the only way he knew how, with the truth. I think Whitney has at least one man observing Fargo and Carlson. He expected them to fail. He put all their weaknesses right in front of them. Booze. Women. You. That’s what Whitney does, Rose—it’s what amuses him. He finds a man’s weakness, and he exploits it to see if he can put him in situations that force him to either succumb to the weakness or overcome it.

Rose sucked in her breath. Kane. Does that include the two of us? Is he playing an elaborate game with us? He tracked me all this time. He had to know I was pregnant with the child he wanted. Would he take the chance of losing the baby before he could get his hands on him? Just to see if I could truly escape him?

Kane was coming around to the upper slope. The terrain on either side of the tunnel sloped upward, successfully hiding the fact that there was any kind of opening at all. The Humvee could run down the path between the two hills for several miles and remain unseen as long as there were no eyes in the sky. Someone would have to come to the top of the slope, where they would be skylined. Even lying prone would be difficult to keep from being seen.

Diego Jimenez had thought out his home and his escape route thoroughly. He had shown the house and truck to Rose, but not the weapons, tunnel, or Humvee. Why? The question nagged at him. It had been all along. Why wouldn’t Jimenez disclose everything about his home if he meant it as an escape route for Rose? Something wasn’t right. Kane knew he’d better figure it out fast.

He went down on his belly and slithered cautiously up to the rise, careful not to push any dirt down the other side of the hill. He lifted his head just enough to peer down onto the narrow trail that led away from the house. He couldn’t see the actual entrance to the tunnel from the angle, but it didn’t matter. He was looking for company.

I just found a letter from Diego addressed to me, Kane. It was in the locker where I was storing extra weapons. Rose sounded worried. He could feel a tinge of fear pushing its way into his mind.

Tell me. He prompted. But do it in the driver’s seat. As soon as I give you the okay, I want you to drive the hell out of there. I’ll be coming down to you on the driver’s side.

He took his time, searching every square inch of land around him. He was vaguely uneasy. Something was wrong; he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Radar was going off, but he couldn’t find any signs of the enemy.

He thanks me for taking care of him while he was dying and then goes on to say that Whitney provided money and guns to help him fight the past government because the former president was heavily involved with one of the drug families. He said Whitney was upset that the U.S. was aiding the country in any way as long as that el presidente held office.

She broke off, and Kane could picture her frowning as she turned the information over in her mind. He said he owed Whitney for all the aid over the years. When the new president took office and declared war on the cartels, Diego was no longer needed but felt the debt had not been fully repaid. Evidently, Whitney felt the same way.

Kane sighed, his gaze restless as he quartered the area for enemies. So you were the last payment to Whitney.

Something like that, yes.

Kane could tell she was upset, maybe even crying. He wrapped her mentally in his arms, wishing he could spare her more betrayal. Whitney wanted her to break under so much betrayal. He hadn’t counted on the cartel kidnapping el presidente’s sister-in-law and niece and nephew. He hadn’t counted on Rose doing the right thing and reporting it to the authorities. He hadn’t foreseen el presidente asking the U.S. president for help or the U.S. president sending an elite squad of urban fighters into the country to rescue the hostages in secret.

He said if I found the letter, that it meant I found the weapons he left as well as the tunnel and Humvee. He felt, after what I’d done for him, that I deserved a chance at least to get away.

You nursed him through his dying days, Rose. He owed you.

The sorrow in her hadn’t let up. There was more, and his heart sank. Sweetheart, I’m heading down into the open tube. Drive straight ahead about fifty feet. I’ll meet you there.

He slid over the side like a lizard, scooting belly-down, still not trusting that his gut was giving him false information. Something was a threat, he just hadn’t identified it yet.

Halfway down the slope, a boulder jutted out of the dirt and sand. Kane scrambled around it, heard an angry buzz, and threw himself into a roll. Splinters of rock rained down, two embedding in his pack as he somersaulted by.

Sniper, Rose. Three o’clock. He continued rolling down the slope, knowing a good marksman could hit him. He’d never felt quite so exposed.

The Humvee tore out of the tunnel into the open, roaring between him and the shooter as he landed hard on the flat trail. He yanked open the passenger door and dove inside. “Go. Go.”

She stomped on the gas, and the vehicle grabbed and took off, racing away from their haven. Kane slammed the door closed and checked to make certain the baby was surrounded by the bulletproof vests they’d found in the tunnel. He’d lined the makeshift car seat with one as well. The boy was locked in facing the seat for added protection and appeared sound asleep.

He expected the shooter to fire a few more rounds, but if the man did, nothing hit the Humvee, and Kane couldn’t imagine facing anyone but a good marksman, which meant the shooter was on the move.

“Keep straight, sweetheart,” he instructed, checking the loads in the various weapons and placing them strategically around the Humvee. “He’s out there, and he’s going to come after us.”

“Is Sebastian all right?” Rose shot one look over her shoulder at the baby.

The Humvee wasn’t the most comfortable ride, bouncing them all over the place as she went over rocks and patches of thick shrubs. Just as Kane could see in the darkness, so could she. There was no need for lights. The trail was grown over with shrubbery. Rocks rolled down the slope on either side. She went right over them, gripping the wheel as it jumped in an effort to get away from her.

“Diego gave me up to the cartel.” Rose’s voice was grim.

“Are you certain?”

“It’s in the letter. He told them Whitney would pay a fortune for me.” She leaned forward, peering out the window. “Apparently he has two sons who have been on the cartel’s wanted list. In return for me and his connection to Whitney, the cartel will leave his family alone. The plan is to ransom me and the baby to Whitney.”

Kane swore through clenched teeth. Not only did they have to worry about Whitney and his men, but now they might have the cartel breathing down their necks. That information certainly ruled out going back into town.

“I take it he left the guns and Humvee to clear his conscience before he died.”

She nodded. “He said he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least give me some kind of a chance.”

“Why did the cartel wait?”

“I think they were busy trying to find the men who stole their prisoners. I’m a helpless woman, about to give birth, trapped in a house in the desert.”

Kane narrowed his eyes. “Get out of here, Rose. Right now, go up the slope. I have no idea where this trail comes out, but if he had some deal with the cartel, then my guess is, the moment you left the tunnel in the Humvee, they knew it and they’ll be waiting wherever this trail comes out. We have no idea how long it is.”

She had already started up the slope, angling the Humvee to race up the sandy hill as quickly as possible. The heavy vehicle had no trouble going through the shifting terrain, mowing down shrubs and bumping over rocks. They topped the rise and burst out into the open desert.

At once, in the far distance, they could see a line of lights, pinpoint lasers slicing through the darkness, bouncing crazily as several vehicles dashed over the sand. The trucks were a few miles away but coming for them. Rose angled the Humvee away from the caravan, presumably the cartel, and made a run for it across the desert.

“Make a wide circle and head back toward the canyon where we dumped the tracking device,” Kane advised. “At least we’ll have cover there to hold them off. Sooner or later my boys will come to the party.”

Rose nodded and then pointed toward their left. “That’s got to be Fargo with the woman.”

A single vehicle wove drunkenly across the sand, sliding sideways, circling and careening down slopes to nearly stall out as it powered up the other side.

“He’s drunk, Kane.”

“Damn it, Rose.” His heart sank. She was already swerving to intercept.

He glanced back at the line of lights piercing the darkness. Stopping to rescue a woman wasn’t on his agenda, but apparently it was on Rose’s. “Damn stubborn woman,” he hissed under his breath and tossed his rifle aside.

Fat lot of good a gun was going to do him. He couldn’t just shoot the bastard and be done with it. Fargo was driving the vehicle, and he was going at a dangerous rate of speed. If Kane shot him, the car would overturn and possibly kill the kidnap victim. He didn’t think Rose would look too kindly on that outcome. He was going to have to actually take control of the truck.

“Come up behind him. Match his speed.” What the hell point was there in arguing with her? She had a look of sheer determination on her face. “I just want to remind you that you’re taking our son into a combat situation.” He couldn’t help the righteous tone. He wasn’t getting blamed later on. She could take full responsibility.

Rose shot him a quelling look. He felt the Hummer rumbling as she picked up more speed. The woman wasn’t afraid of racing. She had to adjust her angle several times as Fargo kept weaving and circling.

Kane kept his eye on the line of vehicles behind them. The heavily armored Humvee topped out around sixty miles an hour. Rose seemed to be pushing that just a little. The heavy vehicle was scrambling his insides as it threw them from side to side and then up and down. The smaller, lighter trucks and Jeeps were definitely gaining on them, but they were still a good distance away. She had to cut Fargo off quickly, or they would be out of time.

The soldier wasn’t paying any attention at all to the Hummer bearing down on him. He threw a bottle out the window and spun the truck twice before fishtailing several yards. Only then did he notice the Humvee running without lights coming up behind him.

Kane was already exiting onto the roof. He could see a woman lying in a heap on the seat of the truck. He couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead, but with every bounce of the truck, her body shook like a rag doll. Rose brought the Humvee directly into position behind Fargo and his prisoner. Kane timed it, knowing he had the ability to easily cross the distance and land safely.

He launched himself into the air, knife in hand, gaze fixed on the landing. Something hit him hard in his left side, spinning his body around, the sting turning into a blossoming pain, driving his body back and away from his landing. He hit the sand hard and rolled, only then realizing he’d been shot. The marksmen had made an extraordinary shot from some unknown location.

Headlights caught him as Fargo wheeled his truck around, howling with laughter, as if they were playing some fun game after a drunken party. The truck bore down on him, flying at him at a high rate of speed. With the truck spotlighting him, the shooter couldn’t fail to hit him, and there was nowhere to run—nowhere to hide. He couldn’t even defend himself exposed as he was. He kept rolling, testing his body, leaving a blood trail, drawing his legs and arms up in readiness to push himself to his feet.

Rose spun the Humvee around and drove hard to intercept the truck. Kane managed to gain his feet, facing the oncoming truck. He saw Fargo’s head disappear into a raw mass of blood and tissue as the marksmen shot again. The windshield and seat turned bright red. With no one at the wheel, the truck began to veer over the uneven terrain, every bounce taking it on a different path.

Rose once again inserted the armored Humvee between Kane and the shooter. He sprinted for the safety of the vehicle, jerking open the door and diving inside. Rose took off away from the line of advancing headlights, trying to get every ounce of speed she could out of the multipurpose vehicle.

“How bad?” Rose demanded.

Kane inspected his side. A hunk of skin was missing, but little else other than his pride. He slapped a pressure bandage over it. “Maybe he wasn’t going for the kill and he knocked me away from Fargo’s vehicle on purpose so he could kill the man. Who the hell knows?”

“Who is he?”

“Whitney’s cleanup man. Get us the hell out of here, Rose. The cartel is on our ass, and we’ve got another player in the game.” He took a quick look at the baby to make certain the boy was okay.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked back at him. Kane smiled at him. “You’re good, son, just hang in there a little longer.”

“I’m going to try to take out the shooter, Rose. In any case, the cartel is going to be on us in another few minutes. We can’t outrun them. We’re too far away from the ravine to go to ground, so I’ll have to give them something to think about.”

“I don’t like the idea of you exposing yourself to the shooter. We don’t even know where he is. How are you going to get a fix on him?”

Their eyes met in the mirror. She shook her head. “No. No way. You are not going to give him another shot at you.”

He grinned at her. “We’ve got the weapons to protect ourselves, Rose, and we’re going to need to use them.”

“Look at the truck,” Rose said, pointing at the pickup that had been careening through the desert out of control.

The driver’s-side door flew open, and a body hit the ground, bounced, and then lay still. The truck swerved back and forth before the new driver took control. She spun the truck around and headed back toward the line of lights, now much closer.

Kane opened the hatch above his head. The shooter would no doubt have his eye to the scope, but Rose was pushing the speed of the Humvee past sixty-five and redlining the heavy vehicle.

“Sweetheart, we don’t want to kill the engine,” Kane cautioned as he took a slow look around. He had an arsenal mounted on the roof, and he could sit inside safe and warm, if he knew where the bastard was.

He reached back and pulled out a helmet, raising it slightly. A bullet tore into the top, knocking it out of his hand.

“Got him. He’s at three o’clock. High ground. He’s on the slope up there.” Rose kept her heading toward the ravine, as though they still had no idea of the sniper’s position. “And just so you know, Kane, that bullet could have taken your head off.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He’d been hoping the sniper’s first shot had been a miss on purpose. “I think they have no idea who I am, Rose. It’s possible they think I’m Carlson stealing you away. Whitney set his watchdogs on Carlson and Fargo. They’ve eliminated Fargo, so they’re coming after me.”

“I agree that it’s got to be Whitney’s man,” Rose called back to him. “So if he’s driving us toward the canyon and away from that slope, what does that mean?”

Kane had a sinking feeling he knew what it meant. Whitney had a crew waiting for them. He didn’t bother to answer the question. Rose knew what it meant as well. Of course Whitney still had no way of knowing that Rose had given birth to Sebastian. They thought she was still pregnant. With the cartel behind them and the sniper driving them in a direction, Kane was certain Whitney was dropping—or had already dropped—more men into the combat zone.

“The canyon offers the only viable cover, and we can’t run in this thing forever. We have enough ammo to give it a good fight, and I can take out a good portion of the cartel’s vehicles and men when they close the distance. Forget luring them to open fire again. Drive straight for the ravine.”

“We might be driving right into Whitney’s men.”

Kane shrugged. “Then we make our stand there. I think we’ll have more of a chance. Otherwise all they have to do is wait for us to run out of gas and then water. We’ve got Sebastian to think of, Rose. Head for the canyon.”

She nodded and kept to the course, the Humvee bumping over the uneven ground, followed in the distance by a stream of bouncing lights as the cartel followed.