Page 52 of Lethal Pursuit

“Not gonna happen,” Jackson said before Maya could answer.

“I’ll stay with you and keep watch until he comes back,” she informed Doug. “And that’s not up for debate, so make peace with it.”

A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jackson stood and waited for Maya to bolster Doug’s left side before starting out at a slow pace. His legs were so tired he could barely carry his own weight right now, let alone adding Haversham’s. They skirted the trail to the crest of the hill, where the red-tinged mountains loomed before them. And they all heard it at the same time.

Tiny bells. Faint at first, growing louder with each passing moment, their sweet chimes filling the air. Setting Haversham down between them, he and Maya hit the deck and lay flat on their bellies, trying to make their outlines as small as possible.

A minute after that, the first bleats reached them, followed by the patter of hooves over the hard, rocky ground.Fuck.Jackson’s wholebody tensed, a surge of renewed strength exploding through him. Beside him, Maya kept her gaze trained ahead where the goats were. They sounded close and seemed to be coming closer. Haversham’s face was rigid with tension.

The bells and bleating came nearer, the hooves now a constant rattle on the ground. A whole herd of goats, which meant the shepherd couldn’t be far behind.

But it wasn’t a human who found them.

Jackson barely had time to react when something rustled in the brush to their right and a medium-sized dog bounded out. It stopped a dozen or so meters from them, frozen in a pose that was part point, part coiling to spring. The animal was white except for brown spots on its ears, nose and a large patch on its right flank. Jackson cursed silently. Shooting it would only alert any humans in the area to their position, and there was no way he and Maya could haul Haversham out of there fast enough to evade anyone who chased them. Their only hope now was for the dog to lose interest and leave before it attracted its master’s attention.

He held his breath, willing the mongrel to move on. It didn’t.

The dog remained poised to spring, gaze fixed on them, ears back, a low, almost inaudible growl coming from its throat. Then a sharp, shrill whistle rent the air, and Jackson closed his eyes in disbelief at their shitty luck.

“Jackson,” Maya said in an urgent whisper that barely carried to him.

He answered with a minute shake of his head. They couldn’t make a run for it now. It was too late.

Another whistle, and the dog flinched, its hindquarters quivering as it kept staring at them. A man’s shout rose up. The dog still didn’t leave. And when the inevitable sounds of footsteps came next, Jackson’s heart sank. He didn’t want to have to kill an innocent goatherd. How many of them were out here? They’d probably be armed. Jackson tightened his grip around the pistol, ready and waiting.

Above the scraggly bush they were hidden behind, a pair of thin legs appeared beneath a gray tunic. Heart in his throat, Jackson watched the legs give way to a lower body, then a small torso. Whenhe saw the young boy’s face, no older than ten, Jackson stopped breathing. There was no way he could kill a kid. Not unless he was actually firing at them, and even then Jackson would only shoot to disable.

The only thing the young goatherd had for a weapon was a long walking stick.

The kid froze in horror when he came close enough and saw what his dog had cornered. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open, but no sound came out, as though he was too terrified to scream.

Praying he’d stay quiet, Jackson met his fearful gaze and brought a finger to his lips in the universal signal for silence.

The kid blinked once. Then, as if the motion had unparalyzed him, he opened his mouth wide and screamed something.

Jackson was already on his knees, ready to lunge for the kid and tackle him, but it was too late. An answering shout rang out, and Jackson glanced up in time to see an old man running toward them. He was carrying a rifle.

Maya cursed and dragged Haversham to a standing position, preparing to make a run for it. Jackson stayed where he was, weapon raised, ready to fire if the old man brought his rifle up. But the man stopped running and stared in shock, then held up one hand and lowered his weapon to the ground.

As their gazes connected, a shock of recognition rippled through Jackson. He slowly lowered the pistol, wondering if he was imagining things. “Maya, wait.”

“What?” she snapped, whirling to face him. When she saw the expression on his face, she stopped and followed his gaze. She frowned at the man. “Is that...?”

He couldn’t answer. It was all too fucking surreal.

The old man stared back at them for a moment then beckoned for the boy, who turned and ran to him. A startled smile spread across his bearded face. He said something to the boy and took a step toward them, both hands raised to show he wasn’t a threat.

“My God, itis,” Maya breathed in disbelief.

Yeah. It was the old man from the MEDCAP, whose grandson they’d evacuated to the hospital. Jackson hoped like hell the elderwas in the mood to repay that good deed with one of his own.

* * *

THINGS HAPPENED SOfast that Maya’s head was spinning by the time they reached the village. She was still terrified they’d discover this was all a trap, but so far no one had done anything to threaten them. Only men were there to greet them, since the boy had run ahead to warn the villagers and the women and children had been sequestered. The old man had taken her place, carrying Haversham between himself and Jackson. She held her pistol tightly and muffled her coughing as best she could, making sure her body language stated loud and clear that she was still strong and would shoot at the first sign of a threat to her and the others.

The men in the village stared at them openly, some with hostile eyes, some merely curious. It occurred to Maya that many of them might never have seen a female soldier before. She didn’t like the attention one bit. The old man called out to them, and the boy who’d first discovered them came scampering over with a huge smile on his face. He held a large bladder of what she assumed was water, and she swallowed reflexively, longing for a drink. If a kid was running around offering them water and smiling at them, chances were good no one was out to kill them, right?

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