Page 59 of Decoding Morse

Gesturing Prospect forward, I opened the back of the car and shoved all the luggage forward, gaining access to the cargo compartment where I’d hidden Smokey. Prospect caught up as I grabbed the case.

“Tools in here.” I patted the side compartment before pointing to the spare tire access cover. “Tire’s there.”

“We got this,” Specks said, his attention dipping to the case in my hands. “Do what you gotta do.”

Maybe he did understand how deep in the shit we were. I dropped to my ass in the dirt, setting the case beside me to open it, then I powered up the drone and snatched up the controller. The system came online, and I got to work, sending it about ten feet in the air and toward the barn, monitoring progress through the controller screen.

A car slowed as it approached, but Specks waved them by.

Smokey approached the barn as a vehicle behind it revved to life. I swerved around the barn as the passenger slammed his door shut.

Gotchu motherfuckers.

Before they could take off, I zipped in, dipping down to snap close-ups of the men. Startled faces stared back at me through the screen. The driver barked orders, and the passenger rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and leveled a pistol at Smokey.

He fired.

I swerved, engaging the drone’s weapon to return fire. Fucker thought he would shoot my drone, did he? I shot him in the arm.

He yelped and dove back into the car, rolling up the window like that could save his sorry ass from me. The driver must have decided that this shit was above his pay grade because the car took off down the bumpy dirt road. They only got two potholes away before I stole a page from their playbook and took out a tire. But I’m more thorough, so I circled around the vehicle and popped all four. Everything in me wanted to kill them, but that wouldn’t necessarily end the threat to Amelia’s life since these weren’t the only shady bastards looking to make a buck. However, I could make damn sure these two wouldn’t ever try again.

I backed Smokey up but stayed close enough to keep an eye on the hitmen. Specks and Prospect talked in low voices.I wanted to look over and see how they were doing, but my training kicked in, and I didn’t dare take my attention from the screen. As I watched, the passenger rose first to grab something from the back seat. A first aid kit. I didn’t just graze his arm, I’d hit my mark dead center.

“How’s the tire coming?” I asked.

“Donut’s going on right now,” Specks said. “You got eyes on the shooter?”

“Sure do. Two in a black sedan, and they’re not going anywhere.”

“Do I want to know why?” He’d heard the shots, and as the club’s secretary, he was responsible for keeping me in check.

“They seem to be having car trouble, too.”

Specks had served as a pencil pusher in the Army, so he had about as much in-person combat experience as I had as a drone pilot, and it showed. In my peripheral, I caught him finally pulling his hand away from his weapon. “How unfortunate for them.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Raising my voice, I asked, “How you and Morgan doin’ in there, Angel?”

“We’re okay. Everyone good out there?”

“Yeah.” We were all safe. I took a deep breath and watched Amelia’s would-be killers try to figure out what to do. “You and Morgan can get up and move around. Get that glass off you. There’s a first aid kit in the far back seat on the driver’s side. Morgan, get it for your mom and help her. We’ll be back on the road in a minute.”

Prospect and Specks worked. The girls spoke to each other in low voices. A car door opened and closed again. Feet hit the pavement, and seconds later, Amelia appeared at my side.

“I can’t take my eyes away from the screen,” I said.

“Understood. Can you talk?”

“Right now, yes. But that could change at any second.”

“Got it. Say stop, and I will, but I’ve been thinking. This is too dangerous. Morgan could have?—”

She choked up and couldn’t finish her sentence. Had I not been watching two assholes talk on their cell phones, I would have stood and given her a hug. That’s what she needed right now, but it would have to wait. Multitasking kills efficiency, and keeping these murderous sons-of-bitches away from Amelia was the most important task I’d ever had. At any second, they could reach for the sniper rifle in the backseat.

Then I’d have to kill them.

“We need to separate,” Amelia announced. “I don’t want Morgan in danger.”

I nodded my agreement because a plan was forming in my head. “You and I should split off.”

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