Page 22 of Lone Star Hostage

Presley figured Billie and he would beat them there. Then they could hunker down and try to spot the kidnappers or Victoria.

Their luck didn’t hold out with the ditch, and they lost some of the depth. So much so that they did indeed have to resort to a commando crawl. That added an extra minute or two to their arrival, but they soon reached a thick cluster of trees that overlooked the creek, the bridge, and the road itself. It was such a good spot, and Presley had thought the kidnappers might be there, but then he realized there were many spots just like these all around him.

And the kidnappers could be in one of them.

Billie and he dropped belly down onto the ground, and while she kept watch around them, Presley used the binoculars. Like the rest of the Maverick Ops’ gear, these were definitely advanced technology. They fit in the palm of his hand, but heexpanded them to view the woods. And he saw plenty of small heat sources.

Wildlife. Probably squirrels or rabbits.

He continued to pan around the woods, but the panning came to a screeching halt when he looked not at the woods but at the creek itself. It was shallow, only about a foot deep, and thick trees with low branches canopied the spot. In the center of that, he saw something.

The woman.

She was on her knees, her hands tied behind her back, and even though he couldn’t see her feet, he was betting they were tied too. She had on both a gag and a blindfold, but he still recognized her.

Victoria.

Presley hadn’t known what his reaction would be, but it was a fierce one. It felt as if a Mack truck had slammed into him.

“Hostage in sight,” he whispered so that Ruby would know.

“I don’t have a visual on her,” Ruby was quick to say.

“At my eleven o’clock. The trees might be obscuring the drone feed.”

Which he figured wasn’t by accident. No. This spot had likely been chosen with that in mind.

Presley was about to tell Ruby that Victoria was alive and there were no signs of the kidnappers, but the sound of the voice stopped him.

“Billie and Presley, you came,” the cartoon voice boomed. The SOB must have had it on a loudspeaker. “Good. You followed the rules.”

Presley waited for the dick to spell out how this exchange would take place. But that didn’t happen.

Because all hell broke loose.

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Chapter Eight

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Billie didn’t hear just a single gunshot but rather a barrage of gunfire, and the bullets came right at Presley and her.

Some of the shots flew over their heads and some smacked into the boulders they were using for cover. If Presley and she hadn’t already been flat on the ground, they would have been hit.

“Are you both okay?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah, for now,” Presley answered.

He had to practically shout for his voice to carry over the sound of the gunfire. And the shots still weren’t stopping. The gunmen had to be using some kind of rapid-fire assault rifles.

“Good,” Ruby responded. “Stay down and let these assholes keep shooting at you. Fire up in the air every now and then to make them believe you’re shooting back.”

Presley did just that. He lifted his gun to the sky, his gaze sweeping around, no doubt to make sure the drone wasn’t there. And he fired.

“Keep their attention on the two of you,” Ruby added. “Once I know the shooters’ locations, I’ll try to get Angel, Hayes, and Owen in place to take them out. Can you see the hostage?”

“Yeah,” Presley repeated. “Victoria’s on her knees in the creek. Tied, gagged, and blindfolded. If we return fire, she’ll be caught right in the middle of this gunfight.”

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