LITMIR.BIZ

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set a grueling pace as they trekked toward the pick-up location. Mattie felt as if she were walking toward the firing squad. She couldn’t believe she’d blown her only chance of escape.

      Within minutes, the Whop! Whop! Whop! of the chopper’s rotor blades rent the air. Through the trees she spotted the large craft perched on a rocky ridge in a clearing. The fuselage was yellow with black lettering.

      They were twenty yards away when a man in khaki pants and a parka opened the chopper’s hatch and stepped out. “About damn time,” he said, his eyes going from her captor to her and lingering.

      Mattie looked away, wondering if this would be the last time she saw trees, the last time she breathed in mountain air and freedom.

      “She give you any problems?” the man asked.

      Her captor gave her a measuring look. “None I couldn’t handle.”

      “Get her in the chopper. Pilot’s RTG. Let’s see if we can beat this cold front.”

      Her captor took her arm and led her toward the chopper. She was about to step inside when a gunshot stopped her dead in her tracks. She spun to see the man in khakis crumple to the ground.

      “Holy hell! Rusty!”

      Her captor went for his weapon, but he wasn’t fast enough. A third man in a flight suit emerged from the chopper leveling a deadly looking weapon at her captor’s chest.

      “Drop the gun, Cutter, or I swear you’ll join him.”

      THERE WAS NOTHING Sean Cutter hated more than a traitor. That deep-seated hatred boiled inside him as he stared at the CIA chopper pilot he’d known and trusted for the better part of his professional life.

      “What the hell are you doing, Meeks?”

      “What do you think?” Grimacing, the pilot jumped from the chopper to the ground, his eyes flashing from Cutter to Mattie.

      “I think you’re selling your soul,” Cutter said.

      “What can I say? They pay better than Uncle Sam.” Meeks crossed to Mattie and licked his lips. She cringed when he ran a fingertip from her chin, down her neck to her shoulder. “I don’t know why The Jaguar wants you so badly, but he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

      “How much?” Cutter asked.

      “A million and change.”

      “Generous.”

      “I thought so. A hell of a lot more than a CIA pilot will ever see in his lifetime.”

      “Too bad you won’t live to spend it.” Cutter edged closer, but Meeks smiled and set his finger against the trigger. “Don’t get any closer, Sean. You know I’ll put a bullet in you.”

      Cutter glanced down at the man lying on the ground in a widening pool of blood. “Evidently you don’t have any qualms about taking out one of your own.”

      “Not one of my own. I’m a free agent now.”

      “You’re a coward and a traitor.”

      The pilot smiled. “But very rich.”

      “So tell me, Meeks. How does this work? You kill two federal agents and deliver a DOD scientist to a terrorist group? You think they’re really going to pay you?”

      “I’ve already got half of it.”

      “And you think the CIA is going to walk away and let you live happily ever after?”

      “I’ll be able to afford to get lost anywhere in the world.”

      “There’s no place remote enough on this earth that will keep the CIA from finding you.”

      “Unless they think I’m dead.” His eyes flicked to the pistol at Sean’s hip. “Give me your weapon, GPS unit and radio.”

      When Cutter hesitated, the other man pulled back the slide on the weapon. “Do it or I’ll take out your kneecaps first.”

      Hoping to buy time, Cutter pulled the radio and GPS unit from his belt and tossed both to the ground.

      Meeks stepped forward and crushed the radio beneath his boot. “The gun, too, Cutter. Stop wasting my time.”

      Relinquishing his weapon was the one thing Cutter would not do. He knew Meeks was going to kill him, then deliver this scientist to a dangerous terrorist cell. If he wanted to prevent both of those things from happening he was going to have to make a move.

      Putting his hand on his weapon, he stepped closer. “You son of a bitch.”

      Cutter’s nerves jigged when the other man shifted the gun to his chest. “Nice and slow. The gun. Now.”

      Cutter went for his weapon, brought up the muzzle. But he wasn’t fast enough. The other man fired. The bullet struck him in the chest like a baseball bat slamming in a homerun. The breath left his lungs in a sound that was half roar, half curse. He reeled backward, lost his footing. The next thing he knew his back hit the ground. Pain radiated through his chest. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Dizziness descended like a fast-acting narcotic.

      Through the haze of pain Cutter was aware of the pilot pointing the weapon at the woman. “Get in the chopper, bitch.”

      Cutter felt himself fading in and out of consciousness. But there was no way he could let Meeks fly out with Mattie Logan in tow. She was a walking time bomb. If The Jaguar got his hands on her, the world would pay a terrible price.

      He tried to sit up, but searing pain sent him back down. He tried to draw a breath, succeeded only in making an undignified sound. Damn. He hadn’t wanted things to end this way…

      He was wondering how the situation could get any worse when four men wielding semiautomatic rifles stormed the clearing.

      SHE WAS GOING TO DIE. If not by the hand of the pilot, then certainly by one of the gunmen. Two minutes ago her biggest concern had been clearing her name. Now, at the mercy of five brutal killers, she figured she’d be lucky to walk away in one piece.

      Mattie couldn’t take her eyes off the man called Cutter as he lay on the ground a few feet away. A crimson stain the size of a saucer bloomed on his shirt. She hadn’t wanted to go back with him, but she certainly hadn’t wanted to see him shot down like an animal.

      She stood frozen, her heart pounding wildly as the four men verged on the pilot. The leader of the group was a thin man of average height. His coal-black hair was swept back from a high forehead. Eyes the color of midnight swept from the man on the ground, to Mattie.

      “I see you are a man of your word,” he said to the pilot.

      “Signed, sealed and delivered,” the pilot replied.

      The man’s black eyes swept down the front of her. “You are not what I expected.”

      “I don’t know anything,” she blurted.

      Sick amusement danced in his eyes. “What you know remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

      She jolted when he raised his hand and brushed her jaw with his knuckle. “It makes no difference to me if you are a woman or a man. One way or another, you will tell me everything you know about the final phase of EDNA or I will hurt you in ways you could never imagine.”

      She believed him. And suddenly she was very sorry the man who’d come to take her back was lying on the ground, dying.

      The terrorist motioned toward the fallen agent. “What happened?”

      “He made a move.” The pilot shrugged. “I had to take him out.”

      “I told you I wanted him alive. Sean Cutter and I have unfinished business.”

      “He didn’t give me a choice.”

      The other man’s expression darkened, but he

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