Page 83 of The 9th Man

Crap.

“You move, I’ll put one in your head.”

He hadn’t seen that one coming. “I’m not moving.”

“Slowly, hands up, then down on your belly, arms outstretched.”

That he did not want to do. Especially with the gator not all that far away at the water’s edge.

He took a moment to gauge his chances.

The guy had appeared from nowhere and gotten lucky, allowing himself to get too close, probably within a couple of barrel lengths of Luke’s back judging by the voice. Once he had Luke prone, reinforcements would be called and the odds were only going to worsen. The Beretta was a no-go. Drawing it would take too many steps.

So don’t think about it.

He spun on his heel, pushed off, and whipped his arm up and around. His elbow smacked into the gun barrel, shoving it aside. He wrapped his fist around the front sight post and gave the weapon a jerk. The man stumbled forward, but recovered immediately, releasing one hand off the rifle and lashing out with a tight hook that caught Luke in the temple.

His eyesight sparkled.

Legs went rubbery.

He tipped sideways, but told himself to not let go of the barrel.

The man twisted the gun and smacked Luke in the chin with the butt. He tasted blood and countered by shoving the sight post into the side of the man’s neck, which caused a gasp of pain.

But the guy recovered.

And advanced.

He caught movement from behind the guy.

Another of Talley’s men?

No. Black, elongated, lumbering along close to the ground.

The damn gator. Coming their way. Maybe his belly wasn’t full. All the commotion had attracted interest.

His heart filled his throat.

No telling where this was headed.

He front-kicked the guy in the chest. The man stumbled backward, his feet slipping on the muddy soil, but was able to check his retreat and regain balance, still holding the weapon, which he began to bring level for firing. The alligator sprang from behind, jaws open, snapping shut on the man’s right leg. Luke heard the crunch of bone. The man managed half a scream, and then the alligator was sliding backward, dragging his prey with him. The guy fought, trying to free himself, attempting to swing the rifle around for a shot to kill the gator. But the alligator kept retreating, taking his meal into the water with a death roll.

Then the guy was gone.

Luke’s heart thudded in his chest.

That was no way to go. Who was the man? Probably a fellow veteran, now working for the highest bidder. No matter how you cut it, there was no feeling good about any of it. Except that he was still alive and kicking.

He shook himself back to reality and realized the shot would bring others. He snatched up the man’s fallen rifle. Things had changed. He was now well armed. Should he set an ambush for Talley’s other men? Keep them away from Jillian. No. Not smart, no matter how much he wanted to do it.

He could hear Malone in his head.

“You’re not a Ranger anymore. You’re an intelligence officer and your job is to stay faithful to the threeL’s. Look, learn, listen. Let the bad guys tire themselves out. You live to report another day.”

Damn right.

He headed out, found a clump of dense brush, hunkered down, and concentrated on his breathing while he waited. He hoped Jillian was doing the same. Time passed slowly, most of it in silence except for the near-constant buzzing of insects and the croaking of frogs. Gnats and mosquitoes found their way into his ears, nose, and eyes. He forced his mind elsewhere and breathed through it telling himself that this too would pass. Occasionally he’d hear the distant cracking of branches as Talley’s men continued the hunt.

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