Forged in Smoke (Red-Hot SEALs #3)(26)

Clay followed her to the SUV, well within mic range again. “A coincidence, admittedly, but there’s no proof indicating the film footage was doctored or that the men killed were more than security guards.”

“I was there,” Amy reminded him very quietly. “I know exactly what happened.”

“Forgive me, Ames. But you’re not exactly a credible witness these days. The men you’re defending rescued you from hell. This paranoia you’re exhibiting? It’s a classic sign of PTSD brought on by your kidnapping and rape.”

A haunted expression touched Amy’s shadowed face.

Motherf*cker.

Mac rubbed his chest, trying to ease the sudden, vicious ache digging into his heart. The ache burned as anger stirred. The bastard. There had been no reason besides spite to remind her of what she’d endured during her captivity. He resumed his grip on the rifle and focused on Amy, fighting the urge to swing the rifle in the fed’s direction and let his finger tighten around the trigger. Not that he wanted to kill the bastard, maybe just hurt him a little . . .

Suddenly the shadow vanished from her face and her chin took on that familiar stubborn tilt. “And this attitude of yours is exactly why Mackenzie and his team are better off pursuing this case on their own. It’s clear you have a traitor in your office, yet you’re too shortsighted and tied to bureaucracy to admit it.”

An explosion of rage touched her stepbrother’s face, but it vanished almost immediately.

“Oh cool. So cool!” A childish voice broke the sudden tense silence. “These are the flashy shoes. The ones I wanted for my birthday, but you said they were too expensive.” The youngster flew out of the backseat of the SUV wearing nothing but his underwear and his new tennis shoes. And sure enough, his shoes were flashing the entire color palette of the rainbow one hue at a time.

Christ. Why the hell would Amy buy something that lit up the entire countryside and gave their pursuers a glowing beacon to follow if they had to make a run for it?

“They come with an off button.”

Her voice came clear and wryly through his mic. Either she’d read his mind, or he’d asked the question out loud without realizing it. He wasn’t sure which possibility was more disconcerting.

“Benji, back in the car. Let’s get the rest of your clothes on.” Turning her back on her brother, she climbed into the SUV after her son.

As a constant stream of childish chatter filled his headset—Christ, that kid could talk up a storm—Mac turned the scope on the fed. The * was approaching Cosky, determination in every taut stride. Like he was going to get any answers from that quarter.

Jackass.

With one final sweep down the empty entrance road and the scrubby terrain surrounding him, Mac keyed his mic.

“Time to bug out,” he said quietly, knowing the chopper pilot was monitoring their frequency.

“Copy,” the vaguely familiar voice of Wolf’s pilot said. “ETA five minutes.”

The timing should be perfect. From the constant stream of babble flooding his headset, Benji was more interested in talking than dressing. But by the time the bird had warmed up and took to the air, Amy should have him bundled into his new clothes.

“You have five minutes to get that kid dressed,” Mac said.

The pilot’s ETA would have traveled down her headset as well, but with the kid talking a mile a minute, it was pure guesswork whether she’d heard it.

“Copy.”

“Copy what?” the youngster asked as the thump-thump-thump of the rotor sounded in the distance.

Amy’s stepbrother cocked his head, obviously listening. “A helicopter?” he asked Cosky. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Cosky ignored the question, and the fed stepped closer, his face hardening.

Yep. Mac grimaced. He’d called that one right, the * was about to become annoying.

“I’m not f*cking with you, Simcosky. You and your buddies need to turn yourselves in. You aren’t doing my sister any favors by dragging her into this mess alongside you.” He reached for Cosky’s arm, but lowered his hand before making contact. “We’re looking into your commander’s claims—”

Mac snorted beneath his breath. Sure you are.

Cosky stared back, his face as hard as concrete. “The FBI has had months to investigate the attempted hijacking of flight 2077 and the events it spawned. Instead, you appear more interested in pinning everything on us. We’ll clear our names on our own.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” Clay said, reaching beneath his jacket for the weapon holstered at his side.

Instantly the sharp crack of a rifle sounded. A small circle of dust puffed up from the ground several feet in front of the *. The report echoed across the hillside and—surprise, surprise—the shot hadn’t come from him, or from Zane’s direction. Instead it had come from the ridge Jude was covering. Maybe the big Arapaho warrior wasn’t quite so unprepared after all.

Amy’s stepbrother froze, his hand slowly lowering. “You just fired on a federal agent. Which adds a whole new world of hurt to the charges you’re facing.”

Cosky raised a brow. “I didn’t fire on anyone.”

The fed’s voice climbed. “Amy—”

“Saw nothing,” his sister said flatly from inside the car.