“I’m okay!” Timmy shouted back, and Colt could hear the determination in his voice.
“Two Jeeps just drove out the back gate behind us,” Lissa said, checking the rearview mirror. “They’re trying to catch up.”
Dust billowed around them, providing a little cover against the shots pinging off the hot metal body of the truck. Colt squeezed Lissa’s shoulder, pulled his Beretta, and headed for the door at the rear.
He’d only taken a couple of steps when his earbud crackled to life. “The cartel caravan is turning off the main road into the main driveway leading to the front door of the house,” Zach said. “They sent a group of soldiers ahead of the main body, two black SUVs. They took the dirt lane around to the back. You’re going to have to go through them to get to the main road.”
“Copy that,” Colt said. “I’d suggest you pull back, get yourself somewhere safe.”
“Roger that. I’m out of here. Good luck.” The mic went dead.
Spearman’s soldiers behind, cartel soldiers in front. First things first. Colt’s jaw hardened as he continued to the door at the rear of the truck.
TIMMY HAD NEVER been more scared in his life. At the same time, he felt a rush of determination stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. Colt and Lissa had come for him. They were risking their lives to get him home. He would do whatever he could to help them.
Lying flat on the floor of the truck, he gripped a bar built into the wall, used to secure packages, and watched Colt open the rear door and brace himself, sling the strap of an assault rifle over his head and settle it across his chest.
Timmy’s pulse started racing and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His chest locked down, air wheezed out, and a wave of dizziness hit him. People could die today. Lissa and Colt could die. He could die. Then he looked at Colt, standing there ready to fight for him. He thought of Lissa, coming all the way to Mexico to save him, and his determination surfaced again.
Easing in a deep breath a little at a time, he held it, then slowly released it. He did it again and felt his muscles relaxing, his chest loosening. One more time and he started breathing normally again.
Through the opening Colt was using to look out the back of the truck, he could see a couple of Jeeps racing toward them. Metal pinged as bullets slammed into the truck. Colt started shooting, firing off round after round. One of his shots slammed through the windshield of the Jeep right behind them and it veered off the road into a ditch.
Colt kept firing, aiming the gun toward the second Jeep, shooting out the windshield, then hitting the left front tire. The Jeep crashed into a boulder and surged into the air, did a weird slow roll and hit the ground upside down. The UPS truck kept barreling down the dirt road.
Tim felt Colt’s big hand on the top of his head as he moved quickly past, heading for the front of the truck.
“You’re doing great,” Colt said.
“Where are we going?”
“To the helicopter.” Colt kept walking.
They were flying back in a helicopter? Excitement poured through him, replacing some of his fear. He’d never flown in a chopper but he had always wanted to.
He shifted a little, turned and raised up enough to look out through the front windshield. Down the road, two big black SUVs hurtled toward them from the opposite direction. The cars slid to a halt, then turned sideways, forming a barrier. All four doors flew open and men poured out and started shooting.
The front windshield on Colt’s side of the delivery truck exploded, but Lissa didn’t slow down. Colt lifted the strap of the assault rifle over his head, nestled it against his shoulder, and started firing through the shattered glass, sweeping a stream of bullets from one side of the road to the other, a rain of gunfire so loud Tim’s ears rang.
Flattening himself on the floor, he closed his eyes, afraid to see what happened next.
LISSA DUCKED DOWN in the seat and kept driving, heading full speed toward the two black SUVs blocking the road. There was only a few feet between them, but if she hit the front of the vehicles just right, she figured she could knock them aside enough to keep rolling.
“Don’t stop,” Colt said as he dropped a spent magazine on the floor next to her and shoved in a fresh one.
As if he has to tell me. Escape was their only option now. If the cartel caught them, they were dead.
She jammed her foot on the gas pedal and the engine whine increased. Colt started firing again as the truck got closer to the barricade. Men ducked and ran for cover, and Lissa crashed the truck into the parked vehicles, sending them flying off both sides of the road and opening the hole she had prayed for.
She kept driving, heading for the final turn before they reached the road. As she made the curve, the wheels on one side lifted off the ground, and she sucked in a terrified breath. Then the wheels settled back down with a thump. Heart pounding, she turned onto the main road, heading for the landing zone.
No one ahead of them. She shifted into a higher gear, pushing the truck to the limit, praying nothing had happened to Alex and he and the chopper would be waiting.
She spotted the space up ahead where they planned to stash the truck, as close as they could get to the landing zone. Slowing, she pulled over to the side and drove the truck out of sight behind a copse of trees.
“We gotta go!” Colt shouted, hauling Timmy to his feet, then slamming open the back door of the truck and stepping outside. “They’ll be on top of us any
