Page 75 of Wild Sentinel

Bullets crisscrossed the desert.

Mine hit the target.

His didn't.

Crimson spewed as he tumbled back to the ground.

I approached and put another two rounds into him as he writhed and moaned. I wasn't taking any chances.

I kicked away his weapon, then found the keys to the handcuffs. I released Jack. "You okay?”

He nodded, beaten and bruised like I was.

We collected their weapons and ours, along with extra ammunition, car keys, and recovered our phones, as well as theirs. JD and I moved back toward the compound. We were at least 400 yards away.

I didn't think anyone had paid attention to the gunshots. Scott and his crew would think Horseshoe and his buddy had done their job. For a moment, we had the element of surprise.

A text buzzed Horseshoe’s phone. [We’re Oscar Mike. Finish up, and I’ll update you on our destination.]

The sender was listed as Boss. I was sure it was Scott.

We hurried back toward the compound.

The pilot climbed into the bird and spun up the rotors. Scott and the unnamed gentleman in a suit started toward the helo. The remaining goon marched Brooke toward the helicopter.

I dropped to one knee, shouldered the rifle, and took aim at the goon. I had a clear shot. I took it.

Two bullets rocketed across the desert and pelted him in the back.

He tumbled forward and fell to the dirt.

Brooke looked momentarily confused, then she took off running to the north.

It took Scott a second to spot us as we crouched low behind the shrubs. I started unloading 5.56 NATO rounds at the helicopter, peppering the fuselage.

Scott may have liked to think of himself as a tough guy, but that act went out the window when the bullets started flying. He frantically motioned to the pilot to get off the ground. A moment later, the skids lifted from the dirt, and the helicopter ascended into the sky. Without their muscle, these guys were nothing.

I kept firing at the helicopter, putting as many bullets as I could into the engine.

The pilot banked away and made their profile small as they headed West.

JD and I launched to our feet, and we ran back toward the compound. When we reached the house, we moved around to the front, and I shouted for Brooke.

She had taken cover behind an old, beat-up, rusted-out truck.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded and ran toward me. I released her restraints, and relief washed over her face. "I thought you both were dead. I heard the gunshots, and I thought the worst.”

"Let's get out of here before they come back," I said.

We squeezed into the beige 4x4, and I fumbled for the keys. I cranked the truck up, put it into gear, and stomped the gas. The tires spit dirt as we blazed away from the compound.

Jack pulled out his phone and figured out where we were.

"Did you tell them where Adam is?” I asked.

"I gave them a bunch of bullshit," Brooke said with a smile.