“That’s how you’ll know it’s us. If you’ve got problems on your end, use the phrase—” He thought for a moment. “It’s a bit sweltry for my taste.We’ll know to stay away. Everybody good to go?”
They nodded.
He took a moment to listen and watch for signs of Talley’s men. Nothing. But they surely knew how, as he did, to pass silently over any terrain.
Time to move.
“Sue, push yours for a hundred yards before starting the engine,” he whispered. “We’re going out fast and hard. That’ll draw them to us.”
Sue nodded and left with the dog in tow.
He gave her a solid minute head start, then he and Jillian mounted the other quad. He started the engine, doused the headlights, then gunned the throttle, lurching forward, leaving a rooster tail of dirt in his wake. He steered left along the cabin’s rear wall, hoping it would give them cover until the quad reached full speed. They burst from behind the corner of the cabin. From their left came a sprinting figure. Luke saw him at the last second, palmed the Beretta, fired once, and kept driving.
“Is he down?” he sked Jillian.
“He was, but he’s getting up. Hobbling, though.”
“Hold tight.”
He switched on the headlights and hunched over the handlebars, bringing the quad up to full speed. Behind them came the crack of a rifle, then another, then two more joined in. The distinctive snap of close-in bullets erupted around them. One whipped past his elbow and shattered the speedometer.
“Give them something to think about,” he said to her.
“They’re out of range,” she said.
“They don’t know that.”
She sent off a trio of shots.
While unlikely to hit anyone, multiple rounds of incoming fire tended to send folks scrambling for cover. The return fire slackened for a few seconds, then increased. He concentrated on the road, easing the quad through the trail’s twists and turns. Insects peppered his face.
“You smell that?” she called out. “We’re leaking gas.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Fuel gushed from the underside of the quad. He torqued the throttle, but the engine was already dying. The best he could hope for was to put as much distance between them and Talley’s men as he could before the quad ground to a halt. They covered another fifty yards before the engine sputtered and died.
“End of the road,” he said.
They both climbed off.
“Keep running,” he told her. “It’s only a quarter mile to the boat. Get it prepped. I’ll be along shortly.”
She didn’t argue and hustled off.
The marine in her understood.
They were conducting a fighting retreat.
36
LUKE SPRINTED TO THE NEAREST OAK TREE AND DROPPED FLAT BEHINDit. He drew a few calming breaths to lower his heart rate then turned his attention to the most important thing first.
A safe exit.
His attackers carried assault rifles and he was already within their range. When the shooting started he would need cover, if he hoped to make it out. So he scoped out his best route to the boat, then peeked around the tree and began scanning for movement.
There’d be a pattern.
His enemy would be leapfrogging from tree to tree, advancing, until they found his position. Suppressing and covering fire would follow while they moved to flank him. If he lingered too long, he’d get caught in the pincer.