Chapter 20

Ryder glanced over to check on Langley and realized he couldn't push her much further. The dazed expression on her face told him she was beyond exhausted and she was breathing hard. Sweat had plastered her hair in spots on her forehead and cheeks and she visibly shook. The streaks of dirt and grime across her face added to her pitiful appearance, but he'd never seen her look more beautiful.

She'd done better than he'd expected, but not as well as he'd hoped. Ryder had never believed they'd be able to outrun a team of mercenaries, but he had wanted to get more distance. Didn't matter. They were in the area he'd been headed for.

"Come on, Langley. We need to find a defensible position."

"We're going back into the woods?" She sounded as confused as she looked.

Between the altitude and exhaustion, she wasn't firing on all cylinders. "No, this section might be sparse on trees, but there are pockets of large boulders. We're looking for one of them." Ryder kept his voice gentle. "I need you to hang in with me another five, ten minutes. Can you help me out here?"

He wasn't surprised to see her nod and square her shoulders. That was his hellcat. Ryder took her hand and tugged her in the direction he wanted to go.

Still think the toughness she showed in Puerto Jardin was a one-off, dumb fuck?

They were climbing, and if he could feel it in his legs, it had to be excruciating for Langley. The going was rough, too, with scrubby bushes and patches of scree making walking challenging. Speed wasn't an option, not with the shape she was in, and it made Ryder antsy. He wanted her to be safe. Needed her to be safe.

A shot echoed, followed quickly by two more.

Langley skidded on the loose rock and Ryder moved quickly, releasing her hand and sliding his arm around her waist. For an instant, he caught her full weight, then she regained her balance and he relaxed his hold .

Up ahead, he saw a fall of boulders. Getting Langley settled somewhere quickly would be a positive, but as they grew closer, he scratched the spot off the list. The rocks were in a pile and didn't have enough space in between them for a human body. He wanted protection on as many sides as possible and this would only give them the front.

She didn't question him, not with so much as a glance, and that wasn't Langley. She always wanted to know what, where, when, why, and how. Yeah, he definitely needed to get her settled somewhere soon.

The satellite images he'd studied on the flight from Tampa had shown there were more than a dozen options on this side of the property. They needed to find the right one.

Ryder continued past a small outcropping of rocks that put a sharp drop at their backs and a low ridge of stones on two sides. It gave them zero escape opportunities. Not that they'd likely be able to leave once the shooting started, but he liked options.

More gunfire. Stony wasn't going to be able to keep the mercs occupied indefinitely. Fuck, probably some of them had already broken off to find them. There was no way to move Langley faster than she was going and he couldn't risk swinging her over his shoulder. As they walked, he repeatedly checked behind them.

The third collection of rocks was the worst and he didn't pause.

More gunfire—these shots were in the distance. It had to be either Griff or Mako trying to help. The question was which one was on their side?

A team of mercenaries and a traitor versus him, two allies, and an exhausted hellcat who might have mountain sickness. The odds were against them, but fuck that. If he had any say in this, Langley was walking away alive at the end.

Outcropping number four loomed ahead and Ryder hoped this one provided decent cover because he couldn't chance dragging her around the mountain much longer.

Substantially better, he decided as they approached. The boulders were huge—the smallest had to be around eight feet—and they were in an oval with enough space in the center to hold a few people safely. Ricochets might be an issue, but they'd have to deal.

As they reached it, Ryder took stock. The front had a large gap, slightly off center, with short bushes in front of it that extended to the sides. The rear of the oval also had a broad opening, although it wasn't as large as the front. It was barren back there and he didn't like it as an escape option—too easy to be picked off, especially if someone climbed the nearby slope.

The problem was the amount of cover available for the mercs on the two sides. It wasn't a forest, but there were a lot more trees here than there'd been for a while and bushes everywhere. Including right up to the left side of the stones. He'd been hoping for a bulwark in a more desolate area.

Another volley of gunfire echoed too fucking close for comfort. That ended the debate. This was the spot. It would have to be good enough.

"Come on, hellcat, let's get you off your feet," he said quietly and guided her into the center of the boulders. He helped Langley to the ground next to a rock on the side that was the most protected.

Take her alive. The words replayed in his brain and Ryder scowled. They hadn't been worried about her being alive in San Diego. What had changed?

Her breathing began to calm, but Ryder's concern for Langley didn't lessen. The shortness of breath could have been because of exertion at altitude or it could be a symptom of mountain sickness. If it was the latter, she'd be dealing with dizziness, nausea, and fatigue, and that would impact their options.

Langley's eyes opened. "What now?" she asked softly. Too softly.

"Now we hold this position."

"We're going to hold it? You and me?"

"I was thinking Stony and me, but if it comes down to it, do you feel like you can shoot?" He wasn't worried about her ability, not when he dragged her regularly to the gun range to keep her skills honed, but about how sick she felt.

Her brow wrinkled as she considered his question. "Yes, I think—" She stopped short. "Wait a second. You only have one gun. You mean, if you're incapacitated, can I take your weapon and defend myself, right?"

He shrugged. He'd have to be dead to stop protecting her.

She stared at him without blinking for a long moment. "I'll do what I need to do," she said and the determination in her voice told him everything he needed to know. Shit, no matter how often he tried to put her in the princess box, the label didn't fit. Langley Canfield really was one hundred percent hellcat.

Crouching beside her, Ryder asked, "Do you have my phone?"

Without a word, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and handed it to him.

For an instant, he debated. Did he call the police? Would the locals be able to handle a team of mercenaries comprised of ex-Special Forces soldiers? Did he have a choice? They were outnumbered and outgunned and needed every bit of help they could get. He thumbed his phone on and realized the point was moot. The signal was being jammed. There was a chance he could get a text out, but—

A sound had him sliding the phone away and moving to the entrance of their rock fortress. He aimed his pistol the direction the noise had come from.

He heard a low whistle—one long, two short—and Ryder's finger eased slightly off the trigger. A figure emerged from the trees. Stony.

Rowland was armed like some parody of a Hollywood action hero with guns and ammo slung over his chest and shoulders. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, it looked as if Stony had acquired a couple of extra tactical vests and helmets, too. His buddy always thought of the details.

Stopping a short distance away, Rowland called quietly, "Okay to approach?"

"Yeah," Ryder said and lowered his weapon so it wasn't aimed directly at his heart.

When he reached the enclosure, Stony handed him the vests and Ryder gave one to Langley. "Put that on," he ordered her. Turning back to Rowland, he said, "Give me a report."

"I counted seven mercs, including Harp. Two are down, but that leaves us with half a dozen if you factor in our traitor."

Ryder glanced quickly at Langley, but she didn't seem to realize that two down meant Rowland had killed those men. "Unless the other person shooting took some of them out." He kept his voice low as he shrugged on a vest and fastened it.

Stony divested himself of the ammo he was wearing. "I didn't see them go down, so I'm considering them active." He thrust a helmet at him. "Give this to Langley. It's mine."

He handed the helmet to her and donned the other, the one with the mercs' comm gear. Rowland was wearing another of the enemy helmets. "They broadcasting?"

"They were. I think they figured out I was listening in."

Which meant they'd gone radio silent. "How far behind you are they?"

"I laid a false trail. It won't fool them for long, but it should buy us a few extra minutes. Here," he handed Ryder one of the assault rifles he'd brought in. "They're carrying SCARs and I saw some AK-74s."

"I didn't expect anything else." Ryder turned to look at Langley again. She'd put on her own vest. It was big on her, but better than nothing.

"No kidding. This is the tip of the iceberg. They are seriously outfitted, dude." Stony pulled out a smaller automatic rifle. "Can she shoot?"

"Yes, she can," Langley interrupted.

There was some life in her voice and Ryder was damn glad to hear it. He took the weapon Rowland handed him and let out a silent whistle. Holy fucking shit. "How'd they get their hands on this?" he asked aloud, but it was a rhetorical question.

"Better give her a high-level course on how to fire that," Stony said.

"I can shoot." Langley enunciated each word carefully and that told Ryder she wasn't happy with Rowland.

"I wasn't denigrating your skills, ma'am," Stony said with as much neutrality as Langley had used. "This is an Israeli weapon, new enough that it hasn't been out in the wild for long. It doesn't have much kick, so it should be a good one for you."

Ryder handed Rowland his phone. "I think they're jamming us. Want to see if you can get a text out to the ambassador? He's in my contact list."

Bringing the rifle over to Langley, Ryder ran over what she needed to know to use it. He finished by saying, "Rowland is right about there being very little recoil. A six-year-old child could fire it. "

Langley frowned, but instead of commenting, she lifted her chin toward Rowland. "Why's he texting my dad?"

Well, he'd wanted Langley back to normal and that meant questions. Ryder sighed, but his voice was thick from relief as he said, "We can't call the police because they're jamming our phones, but we need help. It's better if your dad smooths the way anyhow. The cops are not going to be thrilled with the situation and that doesn't mean only the mercs. We're technically on leave, but—"

"But Special Forces can't operate in the US. I know. Mercenaries, a sniper, a small Special Forces team, an ambassador's daughter, a traitor, and at least two dead bodies. I'm not sure even my dad can explain this chaos to the police and gloss it over."

So Langley had picked up on the fact that Rowland had killed a couple of men. "He's a diplomat, but as long as the ambassador gets us some backup, we'll deal with the rest." Unable to stop himself, Ryder reached out and smoothed the hair back from her face. Damn, she was special. Nothing could happen to her. He wouldn't fucking let it.

"Can a text get past a jammer?"

Considering what Harp and company were armed with, Ryder wasn't sure they'd be successful in getting any messages out, but they had to try. "It depends what they're using."

"Obviously not the top-of-the-line jamming equipment," Rowland said. "Message delivered and SOS received."

Ryder closed his eyes for an instant. Now they needed to hold out until the cavalry arrived. "I'll take the side with the bushes, you take the other one," he ordered. "Hellcat, can you watch the front?"

"You're trusting me to handle that?"

"Do I trust you? Yes. Do I want you to be an active part of this mission? Hell, no." He didn't want Langley handling anything. Ryder wanted her tucked away safely in some shielded spot while he and Rowland took care of everything, but there was only two of them and they had to keep an eye on the rear in case someone managed to sneak past their flank undetected. Or found another way to reach the rear that hadn't been obvious in his quick scan. The mercenaries probably wouldn't try a frontal assault. It would be too risky.

"You better ask her the big question, Ski," Rowland said quietly. "We need to know before things heat up."

"Fuck," Ryder muttered without inflection. Stony was right. Keeping his expression blank, he asked, "Could you shoot a man if you had to? Can you shoot to kill?"