Page 29 of Skull

The last thing he heard behind him was an explosion of gunfire and the crashing metal of the disabled technical exploding.

Skull risked a glance over his shoulder, relieved to see the technical neutralized. Over the comms, he heard Iceman calling for extraction and air intervention against the sedan he and Walker were chasing.

There was no way he was going to lose this guy to a helicopter’s devastating rounds. Refocusing on the road, throttle to the max, he weaved between debris-littered streets. He caught a glimpse of Hummingbird’s motorcycle up ahead, tail light flickering in the haze of smoke and dust. The chase was on.

With the rest of the team beating feet out of town, Skull poured on the speed, determined to link up with Walker. If they didn’t stop that sedan soon, their HVT—and any hope of finishing this mission—would vanish into the winding sprawl of Bogotá’s outskirts, sealing Hazard and Leigh’s fate. And Skull wasn’t about to let that happen.

Free of immediate danger, Skull refocused on his true objective, joining Walker and Bones in the chase. He gunned the engine, weaving through narrow lanes slick with mud and debris, determined to catch up before the HVT disappeared altogether. The mission now hinged on whether he, Bones and Walker could close the distance on that battered sedan—and bring their target down before it was too late.

Walker revvedthe motorcycle’s engine, her knuckles white against the handlebars as she tore down the muddied street. Bones perched tensely in front of her, ears pinned back against the wind. What a freaking amazing animal. Their secret weapon in a water polo death match, fearless in guarding her and vicious in eliminating threat, his stamina and focus were off the charts.

Ahead, the battered sedan carrying Blade and his flunkies tried to make a run for it on the open road, but soon realized they couldn’t shake their pursuers. Veering off the highway, they headed back into the shantytown, weaving through rickety lanes, forcing early morning pedestrians and vendors to dive for cover. Every second counted. If the HVT vanished into the sprawl, their mission would unravel and that would be the end of Hazard and Leigh’s chances for survival.

A roar of another engine signaled Skull’s approach on a matching bike. He drew parallel with Walker, both of them keeping the sedan in sight despite the unpredictable traffic and cramped alleys. Over the comm, the voice of a pilot crackled.

“Inbound to your position. ETA one minute. Stand by for air support.” Ice’s call for a helicopter not only to provide overwatch but also to cut off any escape routes should the sedan break free of the shantytown was going to be a game changer.

A sharp turn loomed ahead, clogged with market stalls and piles of debris. The sedan fishtailed wildly, nearly clipping a fruit stand. Walker braked just enough to keep control, leaning her weight and guiding Bones to brace as they careened around the corner. Skull mirrored her maneuver from the other side, forcing the car onto a narrower route.

In the sky above, a sleek Blackhawk dropped into position, its rotors kicking up wind and loose trash. The pilot maneuvered skillfully between half-finished rooftops. Dust spiraled in the updraft, momentarily obscuring Walker’s vision. She squinted through the grit, heart pounding as the helicopter swooped low, searchlight flaring onto the sedan.

“Push them left!” Skull’s voice cut in over the comm. Together, he and Walker veered in closer, bullets sparking off their bike’s bumpers as the bodyguard in the passenger seat tried to ward them off with wild shots out the window. But the suppressed return fire from Walker—precise, minimal—kept the gunman ducking for cover.

The helicopter pilot capitalized on their herding tactics, swinging overhead to block the intersection up ahead. Its bright spotlight froze the sedan’s path. With nowhere to go, the driver slammed on the brakes, skidding sideways, Blade and the bodyguards inside thrown into disarray.

Walker seized the moment as she slid the motorcycle to a halt. Skull roared up next to her, dismounting and training his M4 on the sedan’s driver. One shot and he was out of the picture.

Skull uttered one word, and Bones leaped off the bike with a guttural snarl, making a beeline for the open back window. With a hard push off his hind legs, he soared through the open frame in a blur of fur and teeth. Shouts and curses erupted from inside as the dog snapped and bit the hostiles in the back seat.

Walker ducked around the trunk, pistol raised, killing one bodyguard who tried to scramble out to get away from the lethal dog, dropping him before he could react. Another guard stumbled from the passenger side, and Skull’s steady aim took him out.

Inside the car, Bones held the struggling HVT in a fierce grip, teeth bared, and muzzle stained with adrenaline-slicked saliva. The dog’s low growl kept the prisoner from risking any sudden moves. Skull opened the back door carefully, voice steady. “Let go, Bones.” At his command, the Malinois released his hold, but remained poised to strike again if the man resisted.

Behind them gunfire erupted, and they both turned to face three armed men. A growl, and a yelp of pain tore through the chaotic noise as Skull’s teammates and Strekoza showed up to help with the hostile gunmen. Blade, a bloodied knife in his hand and panic etched on his face, suddenly lurched out the door. He hit the ground hard, knees scraping the dirt, but scrambled to his feet, desperate to escape.

He sprinted a few yards, darting past piled debris and empty crates in the makeshift street. But Bones was faster. Powerful hind legs propelled the dog over a heap of twisted scrap metal, jaws bared as he closed the distance.

Walker’s heart thudded as she watched him collide with Blade’s fleeing form. Bones’ momentum slammed the target off balance, sending him tumbling face-first into the dirt. The man let out a sharp cry, ending in a wheezing gasp as Bones pinned him with solid paws on his shoulders, snarling and snapping close enough for the captive to feel hot breath on his neck.

She and Skull rushed forward, weapons at the ready in case the HVT tried anything desperate. But the man lay rigid, eyes wide in terror, not daring to move with Bones’ teeth flashing inches from his throat. Hummingbird lowered her weapon slightly. “Good boy,” she murmured, stepping to the side to ensure no threats were lurking behind. Bones rumbled a low growl in response, never taking his gaze off the prisoner.

With the HVT immobilized, Walker swiftly checked for remaining threats. The car’s driver was slumped against the steering wheel, while the other dead guards were scattered around the vehicle. Satisfied, she slid her weapon into its holster.

“Easy, Bones,” Skull commanded in a clipped, steady tone, bleeding from a gash on his neck. Skull’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at Blade with a cold look that had the man cringing away.

The dog eased its snapping jaws, maintaining just enough pressure on the man’s back to keep him plastered to the ground. Finally, Walker grabbed the HVT’s wrists, cuffing them as Bones released his hold and jumped off the man. Blade whimpered, eyes darting around, but he was going nowhere.

Walker stood, rolling her shoulders. The tension in the air crackled like static, and Bones glanced up at her as if seeking approval. She offered a quick pat to the dog’s flank, her pulse still racing. They had the HVT back under control—and with him, the critical intel they needed to bring their people home. Overhead, the helicopter circled, rotors howling, ensuring no more threats were closing in.

A moment later, the side door of the helicopter slid open as it descended onto a cleared patch of road. Dust billowed everywhere. Walker and Skull half-dragged, half-forced the HVT toward the aircraft, ducking the spinning rotors and choking on dust. Bones followed on their heels, still on high alert. When they reached the chopper, they shoved their dazed prisoner inside.

The rotors revved, lifting the helicopter into the smoky sky. Down below, the battered sedan and its dead occupants remained, no longer a threat. Skull, the team, Strekoza, and a vigilant Bones climbed into the chopper one by one. Walker’s heart hammered as she strapped into a seat. She glanced at Skull, then at Bones, who settled obediently at his feet. Kodiak was seeing to the cut, cleaning it and after delivering painkiller with an injection, stitched him up.

Skull’s fierce, proud gaze was on the animal, his hand deep in his fur, and it hit Walker that it must have taken all his willpower to send the dog ahead to catch up with her without him. Suddenly, guilt washed through her. She had been single-minded in chasing down Blade, but that was her job, the directive Anna had given her. Don’t come back here without him.

They had the HVT—alive. All of them had made it. She looked at Strekoza and smiled. Thank God she was all right. Her gaze went to Boomer and GQ, grateful for their intervention in saving her partner. They nodded at her, GQ’s expression subdued, his jaw clenched. She was sure he was thinking about the next steps, and now that this mission was complete, he had to, once again, rely on the CIA to do their job. But in those deep blue eyes was his respect and admiration for her relentless pursuit and final takedown of Blade. She was beaten and bruised, nicked and cut, some of them still bleeding, but none of that pain could tamp down her triumph at getting one step closer to a rescue.

Their next steps were to finally extract the intel needed to find their missing people. As the helicopter banked, the distant sprawl of Bogotá glimmered in the early morning light, and Walker allowed herself a rare moment of relief.

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