Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

But he couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t stop fighting. Not ever. Not while there was even the slimmest chance he could save his woman.

Mine, the snake reminded him.

Ours, he answered, because there was no getting around it. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her and felt that strange pull toward her, he’d known in his soul that she was his. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her go. Not while there was still a chance to fight.

But there was no denying the odds were against them. Guards were scrambling around, looking for them. Traffic into the mine had picked up as workers arrived to start their day. There were too many people around, and the sun was climbing higher every minute. They couldn’t hide for long. Someone would eventually spot them.

He tried to ignore the loud ticking clock inside his head. Reminding him that every second took him one step closer to losing Friday. He had to find a way out of the compound. And he had to do it fast. They didn’t have the fire power to blast their way past the gate, and his only weapon was the gun he’d taken from his captor. Their only option was to sneak out.

As he looked for a way out, one of the Bolivian workers drove into the compound, parked her car within feet of them, and headed into the nearest building, leaving the vehicle there for them to take.

“We’re going to that car. Crouch down. Run fast. When you get there, keep low beside it while I crawl underneath and hotwire it. Got it?”

She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. Her face was far too pale. The dark circles under her eyes were grotesque purple bruises, marring her perfect skin. She looked fragile, and he felt panicked at the sight. If he lived forever, he’d never forget how panic tasted. It was bitter, and the taste lingered. He needed to get her out of Bolivia. He needed to get her to New York, even if it meant hijacking a jet to take them there. He couldn’t watch her fade away in front of him. He just couldn’t.

He forced his eyes from hers to scan the area. There were a few windows overlooking the parking area, some people standing by the nearest building—talking with their backs to the carpark. There was no sign of Kane or his henchmen. It was as good as it was going to get.

“Now!”

Together, they ran for the car. Crouching beside it, out of the sight of the people standing around talking, Striker pressed his gun into her hand.

“Cover us while I hotwire this thing.”

With her back to the car, she aimed, watching for trouble. With one last look around, Striker slid on his back under the vehicle and rewired the damn thing. It took barely seconds, but he felt each one of them as though it was a year.

As soon as it was done, he shimmied out from under the car and came to his feet.

Friday wasn’t where he’d left her.

His head shot up. And his heart stopped.

Kane Duggan stood behind Striker’s woman, his hand wrapped around her throat and a gun at her temple.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Private Jet

En route to Bolivia

“You there?” Hunter’s voice cut through the darkness Mace felt smothering him.

“I’m here. What’s the news?” He leaned into the comm unit as Sandi did the same in her seat opposite him.

“We have a signal from his tracking device.”

“Where are they?” He’d been hoping for this. Praying for a place to start in their hunt for Striker.

“La Paz.” Hunter paused. “This is weird though. The tracker is giving me the coordinates. But according to the map, the boss is literally sitting inside a two-foot-thick wall.”

“How is that possible?” Sandi leaned farther forward.

“I don’t know. But I’m looking at satellite imagery, and the spot where the tracker is located is smack-bang in the middle of a solid stone wall built about six hundred years ago.”

“Maybe there’s a secret passage within the wall?” Sandi looked as confused as Mace felt.

“The wall’s only two feet thick,” he reminded her. “Any passage that fit in a space that size wouldn’t accommodate Striker.” He didn’t mention Friday, because he already considered her gone. He was surprised at how much that thought bothered him. Seemed the little scientist had won him over after all—mostly.

“Is the signal stationary?” Sandi asked.