30. Chapter 29
Bradford and Rowan used the cover of night and the dark forest as another four-wheeler zoomed through the trees past them.
Their window for escaping was closing.
They’d been in tighter situations than this, but they had to get out of the woods and to the main road if they had a chance at survival.
“We’re heading to pick you up,” Skye said through the comms. “According to Berlin, you can make it to rally point six.”
“Confirm,” he whispered as the four-wheeler grew louder again.
The engine rumbled past him, then idled. He didn’t move out from the oak tree he was using for cover.
Rowan remained in place as well, about twenty feet from him. If he didn’t know where his teammate was, he wouldn’t have spotted him. That was how much camo they had on, from head to toe.
A voice trailed on the wind not too far from him. “I’m telling you, they’re not out here. They must have escaped.”
The response was crackly and he couldn’t make it out, but it was enough to know that these guys were using radios.
“I’ll keep doing sweeps,” the man finally grumbled .
Bradford watched as Rowan peeled off from the tree, used shadows to disappear from sight altogether.
They were too far away to risk talking out loud or to trust their comms weren’t compromised. Even with their Wi-Fi jammers going strong to disrupt any active cameras, they had to be careful until they were out of here.
He crouched low, then slid the wire-camera he’d used earlier around the side of the tree. He didn’t like focusing on a screen during an op—not when it lowered his range of peripheral vision—but he couldn’t risk getting his head blown off.
A man in a T-shirt and cargo pants was sitting on the back of his four-wheeler, looking down at his phone. The guy was texting.
Rowan was moving in like a ghost, but… Oh shit.
Already moving, Bradford shoved the camera into his pocket and slid around the tree, scanning the woods as he raised his pistol. It had a suppressor but might not be enough to mute the shot.
And he wasn’t close enough to use his KA-BAR.
Rowan was moving up behind the guy on the four-wheeler who had no clue he was about to die.
Unfortunately there was a man in a balaclava moving up behind Rowan like a goddamn wraith, a long blade in his hand.
Unlike the guy on the four-wheeler, just sitting out in the open like a dumbass duck, the other man moved like an operator, was dressed similar to them as well.
He couldn’t warn Rowan either, could only take out this threat.
Blood rushing in his ears, he stepped quietly through the underbrush, following after the tracker—then the man paused, started to turn.
Bradford fired twice, two quick shots into the back of his head.
At the sound, the guy on the four-wheeler cried out, gunned the throttle, but Rowan took him out with his own pistol.
No time to be quiet now.
Bradford scooped up the fallen man’s weapons, then quickly peeled off the man’s gloves. Though they didn’t have time to lose, he needed to know who this man was—because he didn’t fit in with the rest of the dumbasses who’d been guarding this farm.
Using the fingerprint device they all carried with them, he scanned the man’s first three fingers, knowing that it would transmit to Berlin and Hailey immediately.
Then he jumped up and raced to the four-wheeler where Rowan was already on the front.
“Could be LoJacked,” he said as he slid on back.
“I know. Either way we’ll get to the rally point faster.”
Yep. He held on as Rowan took off, watched as the ATV got up to fifty miles per hour. Oh, they were going to make good time.
At the sound of a shout behind them, he turned around, already lifting his pistol as two men zoomed in from different directions.
The two men were behind them, but gaining fast.
Adrenaline pumping, he aimed at the nearest, fired.
The left front tire exploded, and the vehicle careened off course, slamming into a tree.
The other guy raced around the first, raising a semiautomatic rifle as he tried to steer, but Bradford already had him in his sights.
A shock of pain sliced through his arm, but he ignored it, fired at the man’s tires.
“Your three o’clock!” Rowan shouted above the engine and wind as the four-wheeler behind them rocked off-kilter.
Swiveling, he aimed in the direction Rowan had said, saw another ATV coming up on them. There were two men on this one, one driving, the other standing up and— Bradford fired at his chest.
Pop. Pop.
The guy flew backward, and before he’d hit the dirt, Bradford took out the driver.
“I think we’re clear for now,” he shouted above the engine as Rowan raced past a cluster of trees.
“Two minutes out from the rally point,” Rowan called back.
Bradford stayed alert and as they cleared the woods, skyrocketing onto the two-lane highway, he raised his weapon at an approaching vehicle—but dropped his arm when the headlights flashed three times.
Relief that their own backup had arrived surged through him.
They’d caused a lot of damage tonight. Now it was time to get the hell out of here and find out more about the guys they’d taken out. Either “White’s” phone or the other guy’s fingerprints had to give them something.
As he slid into the back seat of the SUV next to a waiting Tiago, he realized that he was bleeding.
Well, shit.