Chapter Ten
Only seconds had passed—just enough for the world to tilt, gray creeping at the edges of his vision.
But all Viper could see was Titus’s face—resignation written there, like he’d known he was going to be left behind.
Fuck that.
Viper tore free of Law’s grip and lunged forward, boots hitting metal.
The chopper bucked under the wind, rotor wash screaming, but he didn’t slow.
He caught the pilot’s harness, yanked him back, and drove a fist into the man’s head—once, twice, a third time.
Bone met bone. The pilot sagged sideways, out cold before the last hit landed.
Before Viper could reach for the controls, the world went gray. He stumbled and fell to his ass.
“Shit!” Law shouted, tearing the unconscious pilot out of the seat. He dropped into the cockpit, hands flying over the controls.
Viper tried to speak, to issue the order, but the world went dark.
The rotors had gone still—no engine howl, no wind beating his skull.
“Viper?” Law’s voice was low, steady. A cold rag pressed against his neck, then his temples, then his forehead.
He blinked up—Law’s face hovered above him, lines sharp with concern. How much time had passed? Why was it so damn quiet?
“I’m awake,” he rasped. “How long have they had him?”
“I don’t know if they have him,” Law said, “but it’s been eight minutes since you blacked out.”
Viper pushed upright with Law’s help, gripping the man’s arm hard—silent gratitude that he hadn’t left Titus behind.
“Mmmphmm.” A muffled sound came from his left. Viper turned his head.
The pilot sat tied and gagged against the bulkhead.
“You’ll pay for this,” Viper growled, stumbling to his feet.
“That’s what I told him,” Winter said with a quick grin. His sleeve was torn; a bloodied bandage hugged his forearm.
“You good?” Viper asked.
“This?” Winter snorted, lifting his arm. “Just a scratch.”
“Did you call him?” Viper demanded, turning on Law.
“I did, there was no answer.” Law said evenly. “I also called the ranch. Real, Rip, Crow, and Memphis are on their way to us—with several of the others.”
The rush of control bled out fast. Viper turned toward the open door, stomach twisting, and dropped to one knee. He heaved—water and half a power bar hit the dust, the taste of bile and grit sharp in his throat. Thank God there hadn’t been more in his gut.
Black was there in an instant, holding out a canteen. Viper rinsed, spat into the dirt, then drank deep.
Law gripped his arm and helped him to his feet. Viper steadied on the chopper’s frame, jaw tight, and slid into the pilot’s seat. His fingers found the controls.
The bird roared to life.
“Wait…” Law caught his arm. “How the hell are we supposed to find Titus out here?”
“We didn’t set off the beacon,” Viper said.
“You think he’s really going to set it off?” Winter asked.
Viper shot him a hard glare.
“All I’m saying is—he probably thinks we left him,” Winter said with a shrug.
“We did leave him,” Viper ground out, eyes cutting toward the tied-up pilot, glare sharp enough to draw blood.
“I mean, he probably thinks we left him… on purpose.”
“Boss, let me fly,” Law cut in before Viper could go off.
And he wanted to—wanted to yell, to tear into the whole fucking lot of them even though he knew none of them had left Titus on purpose. The fucking pilot would pay for it, though. Dearly.
“Come on,” Law coaxed, hand steady on his arm.
Viper drew in a hard breath. Law’s request made sense. What if he blacked out again? The air still felt thick, his head pounding in time with the rotor’s thrum.
“Give me your phone,” Viper ordered. Law shoved it into his hand, and Viper jammed the screen awake with his thumb.
Nobody was stopping until they found Titus.
He’d burn down the fucking world if he had to.
Law lifted the bird higher until the desert shrank beneath them. The rotors drummed steady overhead, vibrating through Viper’s chest. He scrolled fast, found Titus’s number, and hit call.
Ring.
Nothing.
Again.
“How did they find us?” he asked, still listening to the unanswered ring.
“The fucking gas-station stop,” Law said. “They had people who knew people.” He shot Viper a quick, hard look.
Viper didn’t answer. The line kept ringing.
“What do you mean, they knew people?” he muttered, frowning at the phone. He double-checked the call history—Titus’s number glared back at him.
Law exhaled hard. “It’s odd, but the Cartel reach runs deep out here. The attendant at the station probably caught their chatter—word went out to watch for a military transport. Someone made a call—it took them a few days, but they eventually tracked us down.”
Viper’s jaw flexed. “So, we were already burned.”
“Yeah,” Law said. “Before we even hit Nevada.”
Law shifted in his seat, adjusting the controls. “Evan Barstow’s rattled, by the way. Kid’s been shaking since they pulled him off the bird.”
Viper kept his phone to his ear, listening to the line ring, but Law’s words cut through anyway.
“How so?” Viper said.
Law shot him a quick look. “Pretty fucking scared. Kept saying he never should’ve seen those transfers.”
Viper absorbed that—filed for later. Right now, Titus mattered more.
After several more unanswered rings, Viper hung up. Titus could’ve lost his phone, had it taken, or was too pissed to answer.
“Comms,” Viper said, holding a hand back over his shoulder.
Black scooted forward and pressed a small device into his palm. Viper tucked it into his ear.
“Real, you copy?”
“Hey, Viper.” Relief edged Real’s voice, but he got straight to business. “I heard what happened. We should be at your location in about twenty.”
“We’re not where we were,” Viper said, glancing at Law. “How close are we to the lake bed where you picked me up?”
“About five minutes.”
“You hear that?” Viper asked Real. “Meet us at the lake bed.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
“So, Barstow’s scared, but is he talking?” Viper asked, turning to Law.
“He’s singing like a damn choirboy,” Law said. “Ranch took custody—hooded. We’ve got him locked in the interrogation building until we know who else is gunning for him.”
Law adjusted a dial, jaw tight. “Still feels off, though. Cartel shouldn’t have been able to swarm that fast.”
Viper didn’t argue. He felt it too—Barstow’s panic, Law’s read on the breach. Something bigger was moving the pieces.
And Savage had dragged them all into it.
“I’m going to punch Savage in the head when I see him,” Viper growled.
Winter snickered. “I’d pay to see that.”
Viper lifted the phone and hit Titus’s number again, holding it to his ear. The ringing cut through the cockpit noise like a pulse he couldn’t silence. No answer. The sick feeling in his gut wouldn’t quit.
Life did that—gave you hope, then yanked it away. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead, trying to ease the ache behind them.
“We’ll find him,” Law said, throwing Viper a quick, steady look.
“Yeah.” Viper didn’t doubt it—Genesis found people—but the only question that mattered now was whether Titus would still be alive when they did.