The hammer of Ramon's boots on the soft earth thudded in time with Lucas's boots in her memory. Echoing louder, doubling like her vision. Except the second set of footsteps were faster.
Second set?
Someone was coming. Lucas. She almost didn't dare hope. Did Ramon hear? She didn't want to alert him, but certainly hoped to be heard. Talking might also cover the person's approach.
She knew in her soul that Lucas was following. She could feel his presence, closer. Not a delusional thought.
"Tio Ramon? Could you put me down, por favor? I'm having trouble breathing. My stomach hurts and if I do not take my insulin shot soon...well, I will not make much of a hostage if I die."
A valid point she thought it prudent to bring up.
"Anyone who can talk that much is breathing fine. Shut up," he growled, huffing from the exertion of carrying her.
He wasn't as fit as he liked to think with his gym workouts and high-vitamin smoothies. That vanity could help save her. More important, she wouldn't let anything happen to Lucas. "But, Tio Ramon, shouldn't you—"
"Silencio." He flung her off his shoulder and slammed her against the ground. Her head cracked against the wall.
The world went dark.
Lucas lunged toward Chavez, adrenaline kinked tight after hellish dark minutes of following in the shadows, not daring to use his flashlight, waiting for the best chance.
And now Ramon Chavez had tossed Sara like a rag doll against the ground.
The bastard would die. Lucas didn't intend to wait for backup. God only knew how long it would take to find the right demolition team to search a tunnel they considered unstable. They'd sworn it would only be a few minutes. He'd feared Sara didn't have minutes left.
He'd been correct.
Lucas slammed into Chavez, crashing them both to the ground. He hammered his fist into the man's face, dodged a blow. Chavez's Uzi skated across the tunnel floor, skidding to a stop against the wall.
Out of reach. Evening the odds.
Chavez had stolen five years from Sara, robbed him of a chance to hold his daughter as a newborn. This debt could never be repaid. But he would make damn sure Chavez never hurt anyone again. He arced his fist back again—
"Stop." Sara's voice reached to Lucas through the narrow focus of his rage, clearing his vision enough for him to see she was awake—and had Chavez's machine gun.
She jacked the weapon higher. "I swear I'll shoot and I might hit both of you, but the fight will definitely end."
Chavez froze for a split second, all Lucas needed to break free and give Sara a clear shot. He didn't know how she'd fought off unconsciousness, but he was grateful she had. And he knew without question, this woman could and would do whatever it took to get them out of this alive.
Damn. He'd always been dazzled by her. Now, he was freaking mesmerized by his wife standing with her legs planted, gun at her hip. She might be swaying in the shadowy dark, but there wasn't a chance she would fall.
A flash snagged his attention. Chavez reaching to his waistband.
A heavy silver handgun drawn.
Hell.
He should have predicted the guy would have an arsenal strapped to him. Lucas kept his eyes locked on that gun in Chavez's steady hand and willed Sara to keep the Uzi level in a standoff.
They had him outnumbered—and their judgment wasn't hampered by fanaticism. They could do this together if they stayed calm.
"Chavez, it's over. We found evidence in your compound. Nola Seabrook told us everything we needed to know about your plans." He saw uncertainty flicker and continued to push. "She was watching and listening to every word you said."
The old man was tough, but not tough enough anymore. Chavez had to know he was near the end. This whole kidnapping had "desperate last stand" written all over it. There were a thousand different tactics an experienced fighter could have chosen other than this.
Convincing Chavez he was seconds from the end shouldn't be difficult. The tougher part would be ensuring Sara stayed alive. Both of them, in fact, because he and Sara deserved a future together.
"We've got troops on the ground and in the air outnumbering and outgunning your men. The base has been secured, and teams are searching for Sara. The tunnel has soldiers at the entrance and exit." Or it would soon, but he'd once been told his stone face could out-bluff a psychic.