Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(62)

Kadan counted to thirty and gave the next order. “Take out the helipad.”

The second explosion rocked the estate. Smoke billowed into the air along with a tower of flames.

Kadan retreated to the doorway of the house. Ryland would have to pack Sharon out on his shoulder, but Don . . . now, Don was another matter. Kadan didn’t trust him. He had to have some psychic ability to have such a natural barrier in his head. Given a psychic talent and his longstanding friendship with Whitney, Kadan didn’t trust the man any further than he could throw him.

Ryland came up behind him, gun out, Sharon draped over his shoulder. Don had been herded in front of the GhostWalker and was clearly unhappy.

“I can carry my wife.”

Kadan turned cool eyes on him. “You can be quiet or you’ll go out the same way she’s going out.”

Meadows flushed. Kadan doubted anyone ever talked to him like that. As a future son-in-law, he wasn’t racking up the points, but he didn’t really give a damn.

“At least give me a gun to defend us,” Don demanded.

Kadan swung around, drawing the air syringe from his pack and slapping another liquid cartridge into it.

Don held up both hands and backed up. “I’ll be quiet. Seriously, you don’t need that.”

Kadan ignored him, turning back just as the Humvee burst out of the garage and bounced over the flower beds. The few remaining guards scattered, dogs roared, and the vehicle slid sideways to the atrium door.

“Blow the back fence,” Kadan ordered calmly as he stepped back, jerked Don out of the line of gunfire, and shoved Tansy’s father behind him.

The third explosion shook the house again.

“Go, Rye,” Kadan ordered, calmly shooting two men who were aiming at Gator. Nico’s rifle barked at the same time, and the bodies jerked twice as they went down.

Nico was firing steadily now, providing cover as Rye ran, Sharon’s limp body bouncing like a rag doll against his back. He slung her into the waiting vehicle and took up a position to cover Kadan and Don.

“Let’s go,” Kadan said. “Make a run and dive inside. Get on the floor and cover your wife’s body.”

To his credit, Don didn’t hesitate. He looked neither right nor left; he just took off sprinting, leaping for the open door and draping his body over Sharon’s.

“Get out, Nico,” Kadan ordered. “Go, Gator.”

The Humvee lurched forward and then picked up speed.

A guard rose up on the driver’s side, sighting down his barrel at Gator. A red hole blossomed where his left eye had been just as Kadan put one in his chest.

“Nico,” Kadan said, reprimanding him.

“I’m out,” Nico confirmed. “Catch you at the rendezvous point.”

“Did you get the tracking device, Gator?” Kadan asked.

“Dismantled,” Gator said, his eyes on the fence looming ahead of them. The double chain-link with the privacy fence just beyond it. He kept his foot on the gas, building up their speed.

Don Meadows lifted his head trying to peer out, saw the fence coming at them. “Stop!”

Kadan’s boot found the back of his neck and shoved him low as the front of the vehicle hit the chain, weakened by the acid bath Gator had provided. The Humvee tore through the second fence and struck the third at full throttle. The splintering crash was loud as the boards gave way and the vehicle passed through unscathed.

Gator had a map of the rough terrain imprinted in his head. The property backed up to the steep canyons. The dense foliage and trees would provide them with cover as they made their way to the safe house. The Humvee went up and over a slope and down the other side, and they were dropping off the earth, with mountain peaks rising above them and wilderness surrounding them.

Kadan took his boot off Don Meadows’s neck and indicated for him to get in the seat. “Get your wife strapped in so she doesn’t get hurt.”

Meadows glanced out the window and then around at the three grim-faced men. The Humvee bounced over rocks and brush, and although Gator had slowed considerably, the motion was intense, jostling the passengers, throwing them from side to side and up toward the roof. Don reached down, his grip gentle, to turn Sharon over and up into his arms. Ryland and Kadan were guarding each side of the vehicle, guns out, waiting for signs of pursuit.

“Nico should be coming at us anytime,” Gator called, slowing more. He turned the wheel hard to his right, the wheel jerking violently as they went up and over a series of rocks and then dropped down a brush-covered slope into a creek bed.

“Movement to the right,” Ryland reported.

“Hold your fire,” Kadan cautioned. “Nico? Are you seeing us?”

Static was the only answer.

“Incoming,” Ryland announced.

Don automatically covered his wife, trying to press her limp body against the seat as tightly as he could.

Gator took the Humvee into a fairly thick stand of heavy brush, smashing through leaves and branches while Kadan shifted to the right. A four-wheel-drive Jeep burst through the trees, coming at them fast. Kadan calmly fired three shots through the window at the driver while Ryland took out the passenger with a head shot. The driver slumped to one side, and the Jeep hit a rock and bounced into the air, crashed down, and hit a tree, coming to a stop. Gator drove a few yards deeper into the brush and once again made a hard right to try to get to the point where Nico should have been waiting.