Page 71 of Canyon of Deceit
He popped open the glove box and handed me a SIG. “You made the wrong people mad.”
“Jurg Falin left us all for dead in Dog Canyon and confiscated our weapons.” Bullets continued to whiz by. “Except an FBI agent got a call through for help.” I squeezed off two shots from the rear driver’s side window into the parked car.
“We need to get out of here.” His calm voice told me he’d been in previous firefights. “Open your door as a shield, and I’ll provide cover while you escape to the rear of your house. Then cover me and I’ll join you.”
A firestorm of bullets continued, stopping me from pulling my new phone from my pants pocket, although Wes had gotten through on his phone. I opened the rear passenger door. The possibility of the shooters aiming at my feet nudged me but getting to safety motivated me more.
He wasted no time exiting the car on his side and raining bullets at the shooters. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’m good.” His strained voice told me he’d been shot.
FORTY-ONE
BLANE
On my ride home, I managed a little conversation with the driver. But I dozed on the passenger side of the car. Adrenaline had been my creditor, and now it called for overdue payment.
“Hey, any effort at making sense is worthless,” I said to stay awake.
“Then don’t. Hate to ruin a negotiator’s reputation.”
“Thanks.” I laughed but everything hurt.
“Want help getting inside your house?”
“I’m good to go.”
“Right. Major Montoya told me to unlock your door. Being a considerate guy, I’m asking first. You and Therese Palmer look like the other guys won that round.”
My eyes fluttered shut. “Depends. One of them is dead. We’ll catch up on sleep and be back on track.”
His phone rang, and he snatched it up. A few words in, and his jaw tightened. “Yes, sir. We’re on our way.” He made a sharp right into a parking lot and turned around.
Alarm ignited with worry. “What’s going on?”
“Active fire at Ms. Palmer’s home. The major suspects we’re headed into an ambush too.”
“Is she all right?”
“No idea. Police and Rangers are en route to the scene. Shooters opened fire the moment the car pulled into her driveway.”
“I’m done with this. We’re within ten minutes of her house. Those guys have made the wrong man mad.” I rattled off Therese’s address. “My shooting arm is itching to pull a trigger.”
—
THERESE
“Have you been shot?” I said to my driver.
“Yes, get inside your house. I’m good to cover you.” His weakened voice told me how badly he’d been wounded.
“I won’t leave you to fight them alone. Where is backup?”
“On its way. Please, get inside.”
“What if—?”
