Power (Special Tactical Units Division 1)

Limping seemed to be a trait they shared.

He hadn’t been particularly worried about his leg. At the last minute he’d added a small vial of prescription pain pills to his pack, not so much for himself but because he’d had no idea what condition the woman would be in.

He’d be fine.

The terrain would be rough, but it would be flat.

His leg would stand up to the job.

Wrong.

The wound in his calf was starting to throb. If it went from throbbing to outright pain, they’d be in trouble.

Bottom line was that they needed to stop, and soon. Not for a break. For the night. He’d figured on reaching the river by midafternoon, but it was past that now and he knew they were still miles away. He had to find a place to make camp, but it sure as hell couldn’t be here. The only idea worse than trying to travel through this dense vegetation in the dark was spending the night in it.

A tall palm tree loomed ahead. He eyed the trunk, the lowest and then the highest branches. It would do as a lookout site, he decided, and he swung around.

“Hey,” he said, but the woman was walking with her head down and she kept coming, straight into him. No swaying this time. No tremors. If he hadn’t caught her in his arms, she’d have gone down.

She mumbled something. It sounded like “Sorry.”

Tanner’s jaw tightened.

She had nothing to be sorry about. If she was on the verge of collapse, it was because he’d pushed her harder than he should have the last few miles. He’d told himself it was necessary, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’d been venting his personal feelings about women like her. Maybe he’d been judging her.

Maybe?

Well, hell.

His job was to get her out of San Escobal and back to the States. Nothing more.

There was a tree stump off to the side. He kept his arm around her, drew her with him as he checked the stump for bugs and snakes. Then he eased her onto it and crouched before her. Her face was pale and sweaty. Her eyes had a glassy shine.

Shit. Was she running a fever?

He pushed a hank of hair off her forehead, then pressed his palm to it. No fever. It wasn’t the most scientific method, but it worked. Still, once they stopped for the night, he’d get a couple of antibiotic capsules into her.

For now, all he could do was keep her moving.

“Just a little farther,” he said. “Then we’ll take a real break.”

She gave a weak laugh. “You’d be lying on a beach in Guatemala by now without me holding you back.”

He smiled, despite himself. “The beaches in Guatemala are overrated.” He paused. “We need to find a place to spend the night.”

She squinted up at the sky, or what was visible of it through the canopy of trees. “Sunset won’t be for another couple of hours.”

“Right. But we don’t want to be on this trail then. It’s liable to get kind of busy.”

“The peccaries?”

“And other stuff.”

“Jaguars,” she said.

Jaguars. Her wanting to turn them into coats because she had nothing better to do with her life. That was what had started all of this.

Tanner got to his feet.