It was only the briefest of glances, but it took his eyes off the forest in front of him long enough for it to suddenly disappear.
Wyatt slid to a stop, the weight of his equipment and gear shifting on his body.
A wide river presented itself in all its raging glory. A steep embankment led to its edge.
That ain’t no stream, he thought. A branch close to his head suddenly exploded. Bark and chips of wood raked against the side of his face.
With nowhere else to go, Wyatt scrambled down the embankment grabbing at anything to keep him from losing his balance and rolling.
Another shout, but he didn’t look back. If he could get to the river he’d be safe. Or at least he would live a little longer.
As he stumbled to the river’s edge a burst of bullets created a spray of water from the river.
Wyatt jumped.
Cool water enveloped him and numbed his skin. Mountain streams were always the worst for that.
Wyatt kicked through the water, letting the current pull him along. His head bobbed to the surface, and he gasped for air.
A shout echoed through the trees, louder than the roaring water itself. Wyatt turned to look back as the forest sped past him.
The security guard stood on the concrete walkway along the river. His sweaty skin actually twinkled from the light of the stars above.
As the current carried Wyatt out of view, he heard Ethan in his ear. He reached up to tap the ear mic, but found nothing.
“You always were one for a dramatic exit,” Ethan said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As the men approached, Nate counted seven of them.
Lucky number seven, he thought. Too many for him to handle at such close range, and especially with them so well armed. He saw no possible way out of this considering he stood outside the bar where the bodies of Unger and his henchmen were sprawled in the back.
This was bad. Really bad.
Nate wanted to tell Martin to play it cool and let him do the talking. But there was no time and it would look suspicious to the other group. He only hoped his new underling had enough sense to keep his mouth shut and start firing when he did.
As they got within speaking distance, Nate casually placed the lantern on the ground and nodded to Orson. “Hello,” Nate said, cool as can be.
The men spread out in a line, then stopped.
Orson, large, burly and bearded was the spitting image of his older brother. His expression was of suspicion. By way of greeting, he said, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Nate,” Nate said. “This is Marty. We just got here and found the place empty. Know where Unger is?”
Orson eyed both of them up and down. “What the hell are you talking about, empty?”
“No one’s around, so we’re going waiting for Unger to get back,” Nate said.
Each man held a torch out to his side so the burning material didn’t fall on them. In their other hands was a weapon. No one was pointing anything at Nate, yet. But that would change soon enough.
Orson glared at the two of them. Nate hoped that just by being present here at the bar showed that he and Martin were Unger’s men. If not, things would go south sooner than he liked.
“I don’t know you, and I don’t know you,” Orson said, pointing at them in turn with a machine gun. “Where’s Wilson and Earl? They should be on front door duty.”
Martin started to sputter something out, but Nate cut him off. “I don’t know. Like I said, we just arrived and found the place like this.”
One of the men spoke up. “I know him,” he said, nodding toward Martin.
“Oh, hey, Scott,” Martin muttered with a smile more like a rictus.
This took a little of the suspicion out of Orson’s face, but he still scowled at them. Then he brushed past Nate and went into the bar. Three of the men followed him in.
Nate’s heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He gave it twenty seconds before Orson found his dead brother, then five more before the shooting started.
“Bit of a messed up day, huh?” Martin said to Scott.
“Fuckin understatement,” Scott said.
Everyone ignored the burning apartment building at the far end of the lot. Not their concern. Their concern was their boss.
Good, keep him distracted, lower his guard. Nate shifted a little so he could see Orson and his men move through the bar. They still clutched their torches which Nate thought odd. But he didn’t care. Once they went into the office things would escalate quickly.
He had these three outside to contend with first. How things panned out with the remainder was up for debate. At least the group had split up.
Meanwhile, Martin kept talking. Whether it was a genuine attempt at distraction or just nervousness, Nate didn’t care. It was working.
“Yeah, I had to walk all day to get here,” Martin said, and gestured at the wheel-barrel full of prawns. “A real pain in the ass.”
Scott snickered. “Yeah, Unger sure likes those things.”
The other two men were eyeing Nate, but kept their guns down. They all may be one big happy criminal organization, but that didn’t mean they had to completely lower their guard with each other.
“Tell me about it,” Martin said. Then launched into a spiel about his travels to get here.
As he spoke, Nate gave one final glance into the bar. Orson was in the office along with another man. The other two loitered outside the office door, torches held to their sides.
He saw Orson look in the direction of the hall and Nate could see the curious expression on his face. Orson moved out of sight.
Five seconds, Nate thought. He turned and suddenly made a show of looking into the distance behind the three men.
“Oh, shit, someone is coming,” Nate said with the best impression of a worried underling he could muster.
All three men turned to look and, at that exact moment, Orson shouted from behind the back of the building. This caused Scott to rubberneck toward the front door.
Nate was already shooting.
His first target was the man closest to him. The shotgun ripped off the man’s shoulder and sent him spinning backward.
Scott was already facing in the bar’s direction, but reacted too slowly to raise his rifle. As Nate shot at him, Scott fired, but the bullet hit the concrete between Martin and Nate.
Nate had aimed for the other man’s middle body mass, but ended up taking out his knees, instead. Scott screamed as he fell to the ground.
Amazingly, even as all this was happening in just a few seconds, Martin had the presence of mind to pull out his pistol from his waistband. He pointed it at the final man who let out a burst from his sub-machine gun.
Mercifully, the man’s aim was bad. The burst hit the wall to one side of the front door.
But Martin’s aim was impeccable. A single shot hit the last man almost between the eyes and he dropped to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
“Holy, shit!” Martin shouted as Nate grabbed him and pulled him out of view of the open doors. The men inside started firing.
Nate propelled them down the length of the building away from the door. Martin let himself be pulled along, his face ashen with shock.
“I killed him,” Martin said.
“We have to get to cover,” Nate said, keeping an eye on the front door as they ran. When they reached the corner of building, he moved them around and out of view.
Martin squatted down and sat against the wall. Nate looked around the corner with one eye, watching for signs of pursuit.
“That was amazing,” Martin said, shaking. The pistol was gripped tightly in his hand.
“Watch the trigger on that, will ya?” Nate said. “But you’re right. That was pretty God-damned amazing what just happened. I thought we were as good as dead.”