Page 51 of Extracted

CHAPTER 14

A man stepped out of the trees. “Don’t move!” he screamed, aiming an assault rifle at Gemma’s chest.

Dallas fought the overwhelming urge to shove Gemma behind him. He didn’t dare move and risk getting her shot. His hand flexed on her abdomen, keeping her back against his front. She slowly wedged her arm between her back and his waist.

What the . . . ?

“Drop your weapon and bags,” the man commanded in English with a Spanish accent. “And raise your hands.”

Dallas kept his gun raised and nodded. Slowly, he leaned down, keeping Gemma pressed to him, and tossed the gun to the dried leaves on the ground. The man stepped forward and kicked it out of reach.

“You too!” he bellowed.

Gemma’s hands snapped into the air.

Dallas peeled off his backpack and Gemma did the same. “Who are you?” The demand rushed from Dallas’s mouth.

The man wore cargo pants and a gray T-shirt. He looked local. Two more men stepped out of the trees, one from the same direction the first man had come, the other came from the right. The one behind the leader had a shaved head and the other wore a baseball cap. The man in the hat pointed at Eli’s feet and mumbled something in Spanish.

The leader scoffed. “You saved us a bullet.” He stepped forward and nudged Eli’s boot. “You can thank your friend for alerting us to your whereabouts.”

Questions burned through Dallas’s brain. How the hell had Eli figured out who was after him and Gemma when they didn’t even know?

Gemma’s back trembled against his chest, forcing him to lower his blood pressure. These men had shot down their plane. Any second, they’d put them on their knees and blow their heads off. The image of Gemma crying for her life flashed through his mind, sucker punching him in the gut.

He had to distract them until he could come up with a plan. “Do you know Eli?”

The man spit something on the ground, likely chewing tobacco. “We’re looking for the woman who bombed my boss.” He nodded at Gemma. “She matches the picture. There’s a hit on her head and anyone caught with her. Worth twenty-five thousand US dollars.”

Dallas’s stomach dropped. Holy shit. These were Silas’s men.

Dots clicked into place in his mind. The same must have happened for Gemma because she inhaled sharply. “I didn’t set off a bomb. I swear.” Her voice didn’t shake, but it carried a veiled note of hysteria.

“No?” The leader took a step forward. His gun rested on an angle across his body, and he cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a package of cigarettes, and shook one stick into his hand. He put the end in his mouth and lit it. After sucking, he let out a puff and zeroed in on her as if deciding whether he wanted to keep her alive.

The man’s gaze slid over Gemma’s body, and Dallas’s temper went through the roof. He’d die before he let them touch her.

“Perhaps we could make an exchange for your life.” The leader flicked his cigarette. “It’s a lot of money to pass up, however.” He held out a hand, letting his gun hang from his neck. “You understand.”

Sweat rolled down Dallas’s face and touched his upper lip. Fuck, he needed to do something quickly.

The man with the baseball cap said something to the leader in Spanish, diverting his attention. As the men talked, Gemma’s voice reached his ears, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Leaning closer to her shoulder, he nudged her raised elbow with his.

She turned her face toward him. “My back,” she hissed, before returning her attention to the men.

He frowned. Drawing his head back a few inches, he glanced at her shoulders. What was she talking about? He dropped his gaze to her ass. At the small of her back sat Eli’s gun.

Yes.

The man with the shaved head gestured to Eli’s body then to them, his voice getting more and more heated. Dallas’s muscles jumped with the need to attack. Things could turn quickly if he didn’t do something now. He brought his face a little closer to Gemma’s shoulder. “On the count of three, dive west . . . behind that tree.”

She gave one sharp nod.

“One,” he wet his lips.

The leader yelled something in Spanish at the other man.

“Two.”

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