Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(56)

“Come up behind him. Match his speed.” What the hell point was there in arguing with her? She had a look of sheer determination on her face. “I just want to remind you that you’re taking our son into a combat situation.” He couldn’t help the righteous tone. He wasn’t getting blamed later on. She could take full responsibility.

Rose shot him a quelling look. He felt the Hummer rumbling as she picked up more speed. The woman wasn’t afraid of racing. She had to adjust her angle several times as Fargo kept weaving and circling.

Kane kept his eye on the line of vehicles behind them. The heavily armored Humvee topped out around sixty miles an hour. Rose seemed to be pushing that just a little. The heavy vehicle was scrambling his insides as it threw them from side to side and then up and down. The smaller, lighter trucks and Jeeps were definitely gaining on them, but they were still a good distance away. She had to cut Fargo off quickly, or they would be out of time.

The soldier wasn’t paying any attention at all to the Hummer bearing down on him. He threw a bottle out the window and spun the truck twice before fishtailing several yards. Only then did he notice the Humvee running without lights coming up behind him.

Kane was already exiting onto the roof. He could see a woman lying in a heap on the seat of the truck. He couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead, but with every bounce of the truck, her body shook like a rag doll. Rose brought the Humvee directly into position behind Fargo and his prisoner. Kane timed it, knowing he had the ability to easily cross the distance and land safely.

He launched himself into the air, knife in hand, gaze fixed on the landing. Something hit him hard in his left side, spinning his body around, the sting turning into a blossoming pain, driving his body back and away from his landing. He hit the sand hard and rolled, only then realizing he’d been shot. The marksmen had made an extraordinary shot from some unknown location.

Headlights caught him as Fargo wheeled his truck around, howling with laughter, as if they were playing some fun game after a drunken party. The truck bore down on him, flying at him at a high rate of speed. With the truck spotlighting him, the shooter couldn’t fail to hit him, and there was nowhere to run—nowhere to hide. He couldn’t even defend himself exposed as he was. He kept rolling, testing his body, leaving a blood trail, drawing his legs and arms up in readiness to push himself to his feet.

Rose spun the Humvee around and drove hard to intercept the truck. Kane managed to gain his feet, facing the oncoming truck. He saw Fargo’s head disappear into a raw mass of blood and tissue as the marksmen shot again. The windshield and seat turned bright red. With no one at the wheel, the truck began to veer over the uneven terrain, every bounce taking it on a different path.

Rose once again inserted the armored Humvee between Kane and the shooter. He sprinted for the safety of the vehicle, jerking open the door and diving inside. Rose took off away from the line of advancing headlights, trying to get every ounce of speed she could out of the multipurpose vehicle.

“How bad?” Rose demanded.

Kane inspected his side. A hunk of skin was missing, but little else other than his pride. He slapped a pressure bandage over it. “Maybe he wasn’t going for the kill and he knocked me away from Fargo’s vehicle on purpose so he could kill the man. Who the hell knows?”

“Who is he?”

“Whitney’s cleanup man. Get us the hell out of here, Rose. The cartel is on our ass, and we’ve got another player in the game.” He took a quick look at the baby to make certain the boy was okay.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked back at him. Kane smiled at him. “You’re good, son, just hang in there a little longer.”

“I’m going to try to take out the shooter, Rose. In any case, the cartel is going to be on us in another few minutes. We can’t outrun them. We’re too far away from the ravine to go to ground, so I’ll have to give them something to think about.”

“I don’t like the idea of you exposing yourself to the shooter. We don’t even know where he is. How are you going to get a fix on him?”

Their eyes met in the mirror. She shook her head. “No. No way. You are not going to give him another shot at you.”

He grinned at her. “We’ve got the weapons to protect ourselves, Rose, and we’re going to need to use them.”

“Look at the truck,” Rose said, pointing at the pickup that had been careening through the desert out of control.

The driver’s-side door flew open, and a body hit the ground, bounced, and then lay still. The truck swerved back and forth before the new driver took control. She spun the truck around and headed back toward the line of lights, now much closer.

Kane opened the hatch above his head. The shooter would no doubt have his eye to the scope, but Rose was pushing the speed of the Humvee past sixty-five and redlining the heavy vehicle.

“Sweetheart, we don’t want to kill the engine,” Kane cautioned as he took a slow look around. He had an arsenal mounted on the roof, and he could sit inside safe and warm, if he knew where the bastard was.

He reached back and pulled out a helmet, raising it slightly. A bullet tore into the top, knocking it out of his hand.

“Got him. He’s at three o’clock. High ground. He’s on the slope up there.” Rose kept her heading toward the ravine, as though they still had no idea of the sniper’s position. “And just so you know, Kane, that bullet could have taken your head off.”