WAR: Disruption (38 page)

Good for Emily, she’d managed to disable several vehicles before being kidnapped.

God, even that thought made his heart ache.

Bullets slammed into the rear of his vehicle. Who—?

He checked his mirror again. Well, damn. One of Dietrich’s Land Rovers and one of the buyer’s Land Cruisers must still have working brakes, because they were tearing after Max while alternating between shooting at him and shooting at each other.

The buyer’s vehicle sideswiped the Land Rover, but Dietrich’s man managed to keep it on the road. Then the Land Rover tried to run the Land Cruiser off the road.

Max pulled away from the tussling vehicles and focused on the vehicles he was chasing. By staying in the rear position, the Hummer provided protection for Dietrich’s Land Rover. Max couldn’t use the grenades for fear of causing the Hummer to rear end the Land Rover.

He wouldn’t risk that Emily would be shot in a crash.

An explosion went off behind him and he momentarily lost control of the Hummer. After he’d wrestled the vehicle straight again, he checked the rearview mirror. The buyer’s Land Rover sat in the middle of the road, engulfed in flames. Looked like Dietrich’s men had tossed a grenade. If so, it hadn’t work out so well. As he watched, the Land Rover swerved across the road and crashed into a tree.

Okay. Two more down. Max gave his Hummer more gas.

The jungle on either side of the road gradually thinned, then gave way to maize fields. Unfortunately, Dietrich’s vehicles had drawn farther ahead. Max pushed his speed as fast as the Hummer would go, but the vehicles were evenly matched and he didn’t make much progress.

Dietrich must have decided that he was done playing with Max, because the back window of the Hummer lowered to reveal an RPG launcher.

Oh, shit.

Max swerved into the field as Dietrich’s man fired. The grenade exploded in the road several hundred feet away. Still, the force of the blast hit the Hummer like a punch from a giant fist. The impact threw Max so hard against the steering wheel that he saw double.

No. Can’t…pass…out… Have…to get…to Emily…

After a few shakes of his head and a lot of blinking, the world returned to focus. Ignoring the pain in his head and ribs, Max checked that all the critical lights on the dashboard showed the Hummer was still operational, then resumed driving. He skirted the shallow crater left by the grenade and returned to the road. But he’d lost so much time, he could barely make out the other vehicles ahead of him.

He tamped down a flare of panic. There was no choice but to keep going. He was not giving up on Emily.

Several minutes later, he realized that the humming in his ears wasn’t a side effect from the blast. A helicopter was approaching. Goddammit, if he didn’t act fast, Dietrich and his men would airlift Emily out of here.

He’d promised he’d keep her safe, and he’d failed.

Jagged needles of pain tore into his heart. He licked his lips and tasted blood. And tears.

Well, why the hell not? He loved Emily. Dietrich had her and would hurt her. Maybe even kill her.

The odds of getting Emily back were near to impossible. But those odds had never stopped him before. He had a couple of grenades. The assault rifles. Plus the CheyTac, which had better range and power.

As a plan formed in his mind, Max checked the signal strength on the sat phone. Good to go.

His hands shook as he picked up the phone. His vision swam in and out of focus and the pain in his head pounded with such intensity, it could have split granite. He braked. Closed his eyes and gathered his senses.

Then he dialed Kristoff.

“Hello?” His friend’s voice sounded half-wary, half-pissed.

It had never sounded so welcome.

“Kris, it’s Max. I need your help.”

WHEN EMILY WOKE up she didn’t know where she was. Then the bouncing, jarring movement and the sound of an engine clued her in that she was in a vehicle. But what—?

Oh, no. Cutting the brake lines. Running. Pain.

She’d been shot.

Max!

Was he alive? Dead? Alive but a prisoner?

She tried to sit up. Pain tore through her shoulder. She gasped and opened her eyes.

Two sets of legs hung off a car’s seat in front of her. A large, black, military style boot nudged her shoulder. She looked up and saw a white man wearing one of Dietrich’s uniforms staring down at her. He had a pistol holstered at his waist and an assault rifle on his lap. He gave her a chilling smile, then looked away.

The man sitting next to him could have been his twin. He had the same closely shorn hair and black uniform. Both men radiated tension. Competence.

“The woman is awake, Herr Dietrich,” the man closest to her said.

“So. You are the young woman who has become Maximilian’s companion.” The cultured voice spoke with a faint accent. German? She couldn’t tell.

Barely moving her head, she stared up into the emotionless gray eyes of Dietrich, who had turned to address her from the front passenger seat. You wouldn’t know from looking at him that he’d just escaped a gun battle in the jungle. He’d combed out his hair and cleaned his face and hands. A sharp contrast to the bloodstained, dusty men guarding her.

“I do apologize for my man shooting you. The heat of battle, you understand.”

Emily remained silent.

Dietrich’s eyes twinkled at her in amusement. “Too afraid to speak? I assure you, we mean you no harm. You are simply leverage in case Max decides to cause trouble for us.”

Max was alive!

“If you require proof, you will notice that my man has treated and bandaged your shoulder. This should prevent excessive blood loss, allowing you ample time to reach a medical facility. Once we are safely away.”

Emily focused on her shoulder, not wanting to move in case it caused more pain. Yes, she felt something pressing against her skin that might be a bandage. She gave Dietrich a slight nod of acknowledgment. The man certainly had an odd habit of tending to the wounds of his prisoners.

“Of course, my buyer’s reinforcements might arrive before you get very far.” Dietrich gave an elegant shrug. “A delicate girl like you would bring him a high price in the right market.”

Emily pretended as if she were dancing the role of an arrogant queen and didn’t let any of her fear show on her face.

“Ah, that does not scare you? Perhaps you believe Max will rescue you?” Dietrich’s smile was condescending. “Only time will tell, hmm?” With that, he turned to face forward again.

The truth was, Emily knew Max would do whatever he could to rescue her. Only… He was just one man and he wasn’t at full strength. If she wanted to make it out alive, she had to help herself.

The guards were too close for her to try anything now. Still, she’d wait and watch and hope for an opportunity to exploit. Because if she’d learned anything from this ordeal, it was that she was adaptable. More creative and smart than she’d given herself credit for. And while she still wasn’t certain if she wanted to make a new career in photography, she wanted to live so she could make a difference in the world. So she could become a positive force, counterbalancing the harm caused by Dietrich and the rebels.

And she wanted a future with Max.

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder and the fear of what the men might do to her, she focused on gathering as much information about her surroundings and her captors as possible. Because she intended to escape at the first opportunity.

WAR Headquarters

The Democratic Republic of the Ivory Coast

West Africa

“WHO WAS THAT?”

Kristoff’s shoulders jerked in surprise and he spun around. “Dammit, Wil. What are you doing here?”

Max’s brother stood in the doorway, giving him the teasing smirk that always made Kris want to kiss him.

Too soon. Much too soon. Besides, we’re in the middle of a crisis.

Wil shrugged and moved into the room. His new protheses must have settled in, because he moved without a limp. “Let me guess, Emily rescued Max but the situation went south and now they’re in deeper trouble than before. Right?”

Kris sighed. “Yes.” Wil had been called back to base after talking Emily through the process of grinding up the seeds and putting the poison in the water supply. This was the first time they’d spoken since.

“Typical Max,” Wil growled. “So how bad is it?”

Kris shook his head. “No.”

Wil halted. Raised his brows in the same you-and-what-army-are-gonna-make-me look that Max got. “No? I don’t believe I’ve asked a question.”

Dammit, he did not need to be dealing with the Lansing stubbornness right now. “No, you can’t help. We’ve got it covered.”

“Kristoff, dammit, I told you to stop protecting me!” Wil took a threatening step toward him, moving into Kris’s personal space. Now that he could walk again, he topped Kris by a couple of inches. It was a strange feeling, looking up to meet that fierce gaze, when Kris had been used to tilting his head down all those weeks when Wil had been confined to his wheelchair.

This new position felt almost submissive. And didn’t it figure, his dick twitched at the idea of being dominated by Wil.

Hoping none of his thoughts showed on his face, Kris turned to straighten some papers on his desk.

Wil stayed in place a moment, then backed up.

Huh. Maybe Wil had sensed the tension, too. Maybe Kris wasn’t alone in this after all.

Yeah, right. Wishful thinking.

“What did Max say?” Wil demanded.

Right. Max. Dietrich. Trouble.

Kris bit back his sigh. “Dietrich has a second briefcase with another prototype. The buyer tried a double cross. There was a firefight. Long story short, Dietrich’s men snatched Emily. Max is barely conscious, but determined to ride to the rescue.”

“So let’s go.”

Kris shook his head. “Even if we had a helicopter gassed up and waiting to take off, it would still take a team nearly two hours to get there. We’d be too late.”

Wil swore viciously and Kris turned around. His heart ached at the helplessness in Wil’s eyes. Because he knew the man wanted the same thing he did—to be able to swoop in and save both Max and Emily. “But there’s some hope,” Kris added. “MacKay’s team is already on its way. They think they’re rescuing Max from Dietrich’s camp. I just need to redirect them.” He hesitated, then added, “I don’t know if they’ll make it in time, but you know those guys. They’ll bust their balls to get there.”

Wil spun and slammed his fist against the wall. He stood a moment with his head bowed and his body vibrating with tension.

Heart pounding with what Kris had to admit was mostly arousal—an angry, dominant Wil fired him up—he dialed MacKay.

“Lachlan? It’s Kris. Change of plans. Max is on the move. Here are his latest coordinates.”

Wil turned to face Kris. “You tell him I don’t care what laws his team breaks,” he said loud enough for Lachlan to hear. “They goddamn better bring my brother back alive.”

“You hear that, Lach? Yeah. Hurry.”

The Republic of the Volta

West Africa

MAX DROVE AFTER Dietrich and Emily until the maize fields gave way to tilled, unplanted land. Dietrich’s vehicles were so far ahead of him, they were barely visible as they travelled around a wide curve in the road. Knowing he’d never catch them at this rate, Max cut across the field, aiming to rejoin the road once it straightened out.

His plan worked. He bounced onto the road about a quarter mile behind the vehicles.

Just then, an old Soviet model helicopter roared across the field from his left. It flew to the middle of the road not far ahead of Dietrich’s vehicles, and landed.

Max cursed.

The other vehicles put on a burst of speed and raced toward the helicopter. When they were close, the vehicles turned and parked with their driver’s windows toward Max, forming a blockade. Men jumped out the far doors. Dietrich ran through the rotor wash toward the helicopter, one hand holding his fedora in place, the other holding the prototype’s briefcase. Johann ran at Dietrich’s right, holding the other briefcase. To Dietrich’s left, one guard dragged a kicking, screaming Emily toward the helicopter while four other guards ran behind them as a shield.

That left only the drivers inside the vehicles.

No sooner had he thought it, than the driver’s windows on the Land Rover and the other Hummer rolled down and the drivers began firing at Max.

Max drove a serpentine, aiming for the spot where the Land Rover’s front bumper almost touched the Hummer’s back bumper. He rammed the vehicles at their intersection, bursting through on the other side to see that Dietrich had almost reached the helicopter.

“Oh no, you don’t, you bastard.”

Max spun the Hummer to the left so that his flank was toward the shooters. Then he grabbed the CheyTac and climbed over to the passenger seat. He put one knee on the floor and one knee on the seat. He lowered the window and braced his forearms on the door. He fired at the helicopter pilot, gritting his teeth as the rifle’s recoil jarred his damaged ribs.

The shot had been hurried, but it had the effect he wanted. The helicopter jerked to the side, then flew erratically away before crashing onto the field.

Johann pulled Dietrich to the ground and the other guards took up defensive positions, firing at Max.

He ducked back inside and raised his window. Swapped the CheyTac out for one of the G36’s. As he ammo’d up, the driver of the Land Rover behind him pulled his head out of his ass and drove around Max, moving into a position that blocked Dietrich and Johann from Max’s line of sight, but leaving Emily, her captor, and two guards exposed. Those guards fired at Max’s Hummer, but the bullets didn’t penetrate all the way through the light armor or the bullet-resistant windshield. Max knew that if enough rounds hit the glass, some bullets would eventually break through. But for now he had—

The other Hummer slammed at an angle into the rear bumper of his vehicle, sending Max’s Hummer into a spin. Max was thrown sideways from the passenger seat across the console. The gear shift slammed into his cracked ribs. Pain burst through him. He lost his grip on the rifle and it tumbled to the floor. The other Hummer slammed into his vehicle again.