Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

Live. Max would live. Relief soaked through her foggy brain. She pumped air into her lungs as she huffed up the path. At least Max would survive this nightmare. She could hold on to that.

She didn't even want to think about what it would do to him to lose another woman he loved.

Perry jerked her elbow to guide her. "I wanted to kill him, too, but time's running out before they'll be on to me. Given a choice between you and him, I'll pick you and let him tear himself up with guilt in a living hell."

Darcy stumbled, twisted her ankle. Damn. The sting burned. At least the pain lanced through her fog.

She reached for consciousness. Rational thought. Stay alive. Just stay alive.

Lethargy pulled at her limbs and her will. She battied the urge to lie down and surrender to the driving need for sleep.

Darcy forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Her boots thudded a steady cadence along the moist, black soil. March, soldier. Old ROTC days blended with childhood echoes. Quitters never win and winners never quit.

Her old man's philosophy had its merits.

Blinking away the grit in her eyes, she trudged up the slope. Finally, after twelve years of avoiding this place, she stepped into a clearing atop Lovers' Leap. Fading stars sprinkled the sky, blanketing the stretch of ocean ahead of her.

Memories whipped over her like the wind gusting across the cliff top, twining around her with inescapable force. She swallowed back bile. The drug was lowering her defenses, but she wouldn't let it conquer her. She would win, damn it.

Although this sure was cutting it close.

Darcy scanned the dense expanse of trees. She couldn't triumph in a hand-to-hand battle, but maybe she could run. Or find a weapon.

A sinister gleam sparked in Perry's eyes. "That's right, think about fighting."

God, had she been mumbling or was this guy that intuitive? She couldn't waste words on discussion, not when she needed to concentrate her fuzzy senses on finding a way out.

"Please do struggle." Perry inched closer, even swung his gun to the side, then arced it back on her tauntingly. "That will make it more fun. The bruises won't matter when your broken body is recovered at the bottom of the cliff. Or go ahead and try to run. That's fine, too. I like the chase and this is the last one I'll ever have."

Okay, Max. This would be a super time to show up. Fuel reserves were heading into the red with the crash only seconds away. Darcy scanned the trees—

And there he was.

Him.

Max stepped out of the forest, into the clearing, his Glock raised and steady just as the sun broke the horizon. The rising sun gleamed through the bleached tips of his hair, silhouetting him like an avenging angel. She knew the drugs were messing with her perceptions but didn't care right now. Max's strength was such a welcome sight she just wanted to soak up the view. He hadn't made her wait at all.

He'd been two steps ahead of them the whole time. How could she have ever doubted? And if she lived through this, she sure wouldn't question this man's love again.

Max measured the steps between himself and Darcy. Then between Darcy and the edge of the cliff.

Too close. He clicked through the options in his head, a head reeling with relief over finding Darcy still alive. Wobbly but alive. She stared back with glazed eyes as Perry jerked her closer.

Jammed a 9mm in her side.

What had Perry done to her since taking her? He couldn't let himself sink into that nightmare. The past half hour scouring the island had been beyond hell.

And then the answer had exploded into his mind with more of Darcy's Technicolor perceptions. He knew exactly where a sick bastard intent on replaying her past would go. Lovers' Leap, where her kidnapping had culminated before.

The SPs and Crusty were only minutes away from responding to his alert—hopefully hauling ass up the cliff right now.

If Darcy had minutes left.

Max searched her for signs of injury, but her flight suit seemed unmarred by blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, tight, blinked hard and shook her head. Drugged. She'd been drugged and was fighting it. Of course Darcy was fighting. Her slack arms took on a whole new meaning as he realized how hard she must be battling sleep.

Hang on a little longer.

Gun level, Max eased left, closer to the three-sided edge of the cliff. He searched for an opening, a clear shot at Perry that wouldn't put Darcy at risk, and damned well couldn't find more than a small patch of Perry's shoulder right beside Darcy's head. He needed more time. "Perry, I don't know what the hell's going on here, but think of your family. Your wife and your kids. Don't make them live with knowing you're a murderer."