Page 10 of Burning Justice

Saxon went to the door.

Kane moved to Sanchez’s side. “What is it?”

“These books.” She held one open, pencil writing in the margin. “This is my father’s handwriting.” She looked up, so much hope in her eyes. “He was here.”

Those big brown eyes filled with tears.

Kane touched her cheek, running his thumb over it. No tears fell, but he could see she wanted to take a moment and grieve what they’d lost. What she’d been looking for since her father was taken from her.

Near as they could tell, the man had been traded like an asset. For years he’d been kept prisoner by criminals across the world. Hidden in dank places, forced to work for them until he outlived his usefulness and they traded him to someone else.

“We’re going to find him.” Kane shifted closer, wanting to take her in his arms. Not telling her something she didn’t already know, but acknowledging that they both needed the reassurance. “We didn’t come this far to quit when we’re so close. We know he’s nearby.”

“But their operation was dismantled weeks ago. Where is he?” Finally, a single tear fell.

Kane wanted to draw her in and kiss her cheek. Wipe away the tear. He didn’t, because that wasn’t what was between them. And it couldn’t ever be.

“Unless…”

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

She sniffed. “We don’t know. He might have turned. He could be helping the last man because he’s joined forces with them.”

“Then why tell Dani about the fail-safe?”

“He could’ve escaped and made contact.”

Kane shook his head. “That’s why we’re finding him, so we know for sure.”

He didn’t want to tell her that when her father had been in captivity for so long, he might’ve given up on being rescued. If it looked like he was working for these people, it could simply be that he felt as if he had no choice but to go along with it because he’d lost his hope.

She was about to speak when Saxon called out from the door. “Time to go.”

Kane knew that tone well enough. He tugged on Sanchez’s arm and moved toward the door with her. “What is?—”

“Chopper inbound.”

Sanchez still had the book. “It could be friendly.”

“It isn’t.” Saxon ducked out the front door and onto the porch. “Get ready to run.”

A split second later, automatic gunfire erupted in the distance, on the far side of the clearing. Bullets slammed into the porch, making a line of holes in the wood. Splinters kicked up. Saxon stumbled back, and Kane steadied his friend.

“Inside.” Kane dragged both of them through the door and slammed it shut as more and more shots hammered into the porch.

He raced to the window and peered through the peeled-back corner of the yellowed film over the glass. A chopper crested the trees and lowered into view in the clearing, firing at them.

A second later, the glass shattered.

Kane fell back.

Sanchez screamed.

Three

Maria dropped to her knees beside Kane. He grabbed her arm. “Get down.”

Thunder in his gaze.

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