Page 57 of Lone Star Showdown

“Ready to burn,” Marco said through the earpiece.

Jericho gathered his breath. Said a quick prayer that this would work.

As the woods burst into flames.

Chapter Twenty

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Rachel gasped when the fire shot up. Thankfully, it wasn’t anywhere near her. But rather in the woods to the right of where Daxton and the other masked person were holding the captives.

As she’d done, the four whipped their attention in the direction of the fire.

Just as it had been designed.

The plan had been for Marco to set a fairly large but contained fire in a rock-lined drainage ditch to create a distraction so Jericho and he could then move in to extract the hostages and subdue their captors.

But the captor who hadn’t spoken yet seemed to realize this was a ploy.

Not only did he not rush away from the scene. He hunched down lower behind the hostage that he was using as a shield, and he motioned for Daxton to do the same. Daxton, who was still wearing the balaclava, obeyed.

Muttering some profanity that the fire hadn’t worked, Rachel turned to get back in the van, but the shout stopped her cold.

“You want them to die?” Daxton yelled. “If you try to save yourself, they’ll die right here, and that’ll be on you. Just like Marla’s death is.”

She wondered if Daxton truly believed that or if he was just spouting the venom of the person who’d coaxed or hired him to do this.

“I don’t want anyone else to die,” she yelled back, hoping her voice and the fire would cover any sounds Marco and Jericho were making as they closed in.

There were sounds coming from the compound, too. Shouts of concern about the fire. Rachel hoped everyone stayed put where they’d be safe. It’d been the reason Marco had considered telling Woody about the controlled fire. But Marco had nixed that since he didn’t want the info getting back to the killer.

“Walk toward us,” Daxton ordered her. “And put your hands in the air so we can see them.”

The Mace container had a little ring, and she hooked it around her thumb, turning the container so that it wouldn’t show in her palm. Rachel then lifted her hands and took a single step away from the van.

She fired her gaze all around, looking for any sign of Jericho and Marco. Still nothing. So, she took another step.

“Move faster,” Daxton shouted. “Or I start putting bullets in these people that you can save.”

Rachel swallowed hard and took several steps. She was now no longer next to the van, which meant she had no cover. She was out in the open where she could get shot.

Or rather, where Daxton and his partner could attempt to shoot her.

With the vital parts of her protected with the gear, a bullet wound likely wouldn’t be fatal. Not unless one of the shots managed to tear through her femoral artery. But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to move, had to play this game and hope that Jericho and Marco could get the hostages, themselves, and her out of this alive.

Rachel took another step.

So did Daxton.

He levered himself up just a little and took aim at her. She sucked in her breath, waiting for the shot. For the pain.

But it didn’t come.

Not for her anyway.

There was a whirring sound, and she watched as the rock smacked Daxton on the side of the head. Jericho had obviously used his slingshot since he hadn’t had a clear angle to fire his gun.

Daxton yelled out in pain, the sound of his voice echoing through the compound, and he whirled toward the woods where the rock had come from. He lifted his gun, no doubt ready to shoot, and Rachel didn’t want him hitting Jericho.

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