“Don’t give a fuck,” I snap, cutting around the corner of the building and making a sprint for the chain-link fence. Greer’s long legs have no problem keeping up.
When we reach the split I made with bolt cutters, I pull back the edge for Greer to precede me.
Instead, she glares. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ll explain later,” I reply harshly, putting a hand on top of her head and pushing her down to crawl through the opening.
She thankfully scrambles through with no further questions, and I dive behind her. We sprint for the tree line ten yards away, just as shouts of Spanish reach my ears. They’ve come out the back door and no doubt seen Mejia’s son lying there dead. Bullets zing past us.
Greer takes off into the forest, and my legs pump to overtake her. I grab her arm, pulling her to a halt and then jerk my head to the left. “We need to go this way.”
“No, we need to go this way,” she replies, indicating the direction she was going. “Your way heads back toward the warehouse.”
“I know,” I say, pulling her along. “But we need to slow down the other guards who are going to come after us, especially if I just killed Mejia’s son.”
My words seem to be enough as I let her go, and she follows close on my heels. I run along the perimeter of the property, about twenty yards into the tree line where we can’t be seen. I have no doubt soldiers will follow us into the forest, but we have enough of a head start for me to do what I need to do.
I reach the spot where I’d stashed the compound bow and quiver that holds only three arrows. I push the gun into Greer’s hand. “Cover me.”
Without acknowledging a response, I move closer to the edge of the tree line where I can see the loading dock just a hundred yards away. I position myself with a clear path between the trees. Guards are running around and shouting. Some are moving toward their vehicles, and others are bringing stacks of munitions out of the warehouse and loading them onto one of the trucks.
Carefully, I place an arrow in the bow, pull the string back to my ear, and sight my target. I take a slow breath, and after a full exhale, I let the arrow fly.
It makes impact with one of the boxes labeled BALAS and explodes. Dozer outdid himself with these arrows. Bullets heat and explode, firing out in all different directions. Guards drop to the ground, flat as can be, and cower for safety.
I thread another arrow and let it fly, aiming for the front of the other truck. It connects with the grill and explodes, catching the engine on fire. I don’t wait for the secondary explosion from the gas before I’m sending the last arrow flying at the large propane tank that fuels the building. It explodes in a massive fireball that rolls slowly into the sky.
I take off running again, and Greer doesn’t need any encouragement as she follows me.
We circle almost three-quarters of the way around the building before cutting due east. When we reach the Jeep, I order Greer into the passenger seat as I quickly stash my gear in the back. I nab a second backpack and toss it to Greer when I climb in behind the wheel.
I start the engine and peel out of the hiding spot. “There are some sweatpants in the bag.”
Without a word, she finds the gray pants and pulls them on over her tennis shoes. They’re far too big for her, but she uses the drawstring to cinch them tight. With that task complete, she puts on her seat belt and leans to the side a bit to look in the passenger mirror. “No one’s chasing us.”
I glance in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see vehicles on our tail, but so far, so good.
Glancing at Greer, I have to know one thing. “Did anyone…”
My words trail off, and her head snaps my way. She frowns. “Did anyone what?”
Never one to beat around the bush and unwilling to ever sugarcoat things, which is something I know she’s always appreciated, I ask bluntly, “Were you raped?”
Greer shakes her head in dismissal, twists in the seat, and looks out the back window, again checking to see if we’re being pursued. “You came in the nick of time.”
My stomach rolls knowing just how close I cut it.
“Do you have an ex-fil set up?” she asks, turning back in the seat to look at me.
“I’ve got a plane at the airport.”
“We need the USB drive that has the intel on it,” she replies firmly.
I nod in agreement. If we’ve got the ability to grab it safely, then we’re getting it. “Where is it?”
She gives me a grim smile from across the console. “On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.”
“I need something a little more specific than that,” I mutter.
Greer directs me where to go, and I ask her to tell me how things went down.
She shakes her head, the blond hair that I’m not used to falling across her forehead. “I honestly thought I’d gotten away clean. I’ve been working for a couple of months in Mejia’s house as a maid. I’d worked up enough trust that I had free access to all the rooms, including his office. I’d cleaned it daily for weeks, always keeping note of schedules and how long I could spend in there without someone popping their head in.
“This morning, I took my chance. Mejia was eating with his family, which is always at least an hour-long ordeal. There were a few armed guards around, but they didn’t see me as a threat.”
“But you got caught?” I surmise.
Greer sighs with frustration. “Just as I was pulling the USB out of the laptop with the information I’d downloaded, one of his goons walked in. Stupid sort of fellow. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing and in that time, I was able to tuck the flash drive in my pocket and lay him out with a well-placed kick to the groin.”
I wince involuntarily.
“He obviously gave chase, along with a few others.” She grins, clearly reminiscing about the danger and adrenaline, all things that always fed her soul when we were working together. “I stole a motorcycle off a side street, and there was a gloriously harrowing chase out of the city and into the countryside. On a particularly windy road when I was briefly out of their sight, I pulled the flash drive out and tossed it to the side. I wasn’t about to get caught with it on me.”
I can just envision Greer, blond hair flying in the wind, bent low over the handlebars, urging the motorcycle faster. I bet she probably laughed with glee when she tossed the USB drive, which was the smartest thing she could have done. If they’d found her with what she had stolen, she’d already be dead.
“I didn’t count on them being so well organized,” she says in a low, thoughtful voice. “Mejia must have people all over the place because they chased me right into a trap in the middle of the road. Cars blocking it off, machine guns leveled at me. I had no choice but to stop the motorcycle, but I broke one guy’s nose before they were able to subdue me.”
That’s my girl, I think.
And then immediately chastise myself.
She’s not your girl.
“I assume we can retrieve the drive fairly easy?” I ask.
Greer nods. “We’re about twenty minutes away.”
“Then we’ll head straight to the airport. If we’re lucky, we can be in the air in thirty.”
Now that I’m up to date, it turns silent, other than the occasional direction Greer gives me. Awkwardness hangs heavy between us.