Page 68 of Winters Heat

Another thump. He was hit again, as he shielded her from the rain of artillery. One by one, men advanced toward them and were dropped by a sniper. But as one went down, another appeared.

She heard another bullet hit. Winters dropped to his knee, pulled Mia under him, and cursed violent threats. His sweat and blood coated her. She felt it through the layers of clothing and vests. He scooped her with one arm and crawled behind a statue.

“How bad are you hurt, Colby?”

“Doesn’t matter.” His labored breaths worsened with each passing moment.

“How bad, damn it?”

Winters stopped laboring and laughed. “You’re unreal, you know that?”

Mia glared at him.

“Bad. But I think Kevlar got most of it. Everything heals. I’m not worried. Jared’s twenty yards ahead, picking them off. We have to go for it right now. Or we don’t have a chance. You got it, babe?”

“I can do this.”

“I know you can. Run, baby, run.” He took off at a limped sprint, acting as a barrier from the fire again.

His leg went out from under him. The whiz of bullets went to slow motion, the sound ceased. Mia dropped on bent knees, watching him on the ground.

“Run, goddamn it,” he shouted. His veins popped out of his neck as he fired into the distance.

The world came back, loud and furious. Her legs moved, even though her mind was numb. Jared appeared out of nowhere. He jumped from his perch and snared her with an arm, dragging her into the vehicle.

“Wait. Colby.”

Jared threw the vehicle into gear and spun tires as he tore down the makeshift road. Branches and jungle leaves scratched at the windshield.

Mia launched at Jared, hitting his shoulder.

“Colby’s hurt.” Tears and terror filled her throat. The very depths of her soul ached. Her screech turned to a pleading whisper. “Please. Help him.”

“They were right on your tail. They’ve got him by now.”

Dread ricocheted through her head. All the pain and loss pressed onto her. Suffocating despair ripped her apart. Tears streamed down. Rapid breaths came fast. Too fast. She tried to cut them off but failed. All went black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Winters used his last bullet with perfect accuracy. It hit his target, dead center. But his one bullet to their many men was more vengeance and habit than any intelligent course of action.

He pulled himself to cover. Nothing left to fire. Not even his knife to throw. And he bled from three of his four limbs. They had him. He knew it. They’d know it soon as they listened. None of the gunfire was his. Until then, he had a few minutes.

While he was sheltered by an obscene amount of marble statues, each one a naked Greek goddess reaching for the sky, he ripped off his shirt. His chest was now only covered by the Kevlar vest. With quick rips between his teeth, he made three tourniquets. He had to tie off his bicep, thigh, and calf until he could assess his wounds.

Juan Carlos Silva was dead. He owed Cash for that shot.Sniper fire will get you every time.

Silva’s number two, a man they called Alejandro, was nowhere to be found. Winters didn’t see him when they breached the house. Didn’t see him on the way out the door. Didn’t see anyone resembling a leader in this firefight.

Did the cartel soldiers know they lacked a commander?

Diversionary tactics may have worked to enter the house undetected, but surely, they had a succession plan. Alejandro must know by now he was no longer second in command. No, he was now El Jefe. And pesos to popcorn, they still wanted that NOC list.

Milking that hope was his only chance to survive and escape.

Winters pulled the third tourniquet tight with his teeth and grimaced though the hot pain. His blood raced in a mad dash, but it wasn’t flowing into the grass anymore. He needed a slow breath in, slow breath out to ramp down his heart rate. The pain might lessen. His mind might clear. But most importantly, he’d keep more blood than he’d lose.

The armed men slowed their pace from charging to a careful hustle. Tentative footsteps neared. Muffled arguments sputtered in Spanish. He almost laughed. They didn’t know what to do with him. It was his move to make. His only move possible.

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