Tall, muscular, 40-something. Military bearing, cold eyes. "Calhoun bound," he said. "Right on time. " Marcus stepped forward, bag of money in hand. "Let them go. " The man, their leader clearly, smiled.
"First the money. First let them go, yeah. " "That's not how this works. " The leader gestured and two of his men grabbed Doc's chair, dragged it forward. "You want proof he's alive? Here's your proof. Now the money or we start cutting off fingers. " Eva stood back in shadow, shotgun hidden behind her leg.
They didn't seem to notice her. Just another old woman. Harmless. Marcus threw the bag. It landed at the leader's feet.
"300,000. Count it. " The leader knelt, unzipped the bag, rifled through stacks of bills, nodded to his men. "It's all here. " He stood, smiled. "Good. Now for the fun part. " He pulled out a pistol, aimed it at Doc's head.
"Wait! " Marcus started forward. "You really thought we'd let you walk away? " The leader laughed. "You've seen our operation. You know about the others. We can't have witnesses. " "You have the money.
That was the deal. " "Deals change. " The leader cocked the hammer. "Any last words, old man? " Doc looked past the gun, looked at Marcus. "It's okay, son," Doc said quietly. "You did good. You kept your promise. " Marcus's hand moved toward his gun.
Too slow. He'd never make it. Eva stepped forward, raised the Remington. "Drop it," she said calmly, "or I drop you. " Every gun in the clearing swung toward her. The leader turned, saw her, an old woman with a shotgun.
He laughed. "Grandma, put that down before you hurt yourself. " "I've been shooting since before you were born," Eva said. "And at this range I don't miss. " The clearing went silent. Marcus used the distraction, drew the Colt, aimed at the nearest gunman. "Stalemate," Marcus said.
"You kill Doc, we kill you. Nobody wins. " The leader's smile faded. "You're outnumbered 10 to two. " "But you're the closest target," Eva said. "And my finger's getting tired. " A standoff. 10 seconds.
20. Then from the darkness beyond the floodlights, engines roaring. Boone and six bikers burst into the clearing on Harleys, guns drawn. The leader's expression twisted. "Kill them all! " Gunfire erupted.
Eva dove for cover behind a rusted ore cart, pulling Doc's chair with her. The rescue had begun. And in the chaos, in the smoke, in the thunder of guns, Eva had one thought. "Please, Garrett, let me save them. Just this once.
Let me save them all. " The world exploded into noise and fire. Eva pressed herself against the ore cart, feeling the vibration of bullets slamming into rusted metal. Doc's chair had tipped sideways when she'd pulled him to cover. He lay on his side, still bound, eyes wide but focused. "You okay? " Eva shouted over the gunfire.
"Define okay! " Doc shouted back. Eva risked a glance around the cart. The clearing had become a war zone. Boone and his six bikers had scattered using the SUVs and mining equipment as cover. They were outnumbered but not outgunned.
The traffickers' men were spreading out, trying to flank. Marcus had taken position behind a concrete barrier, firing carefully. His injured leg made him slow, but his aim was steady. One trafficker went down clutching his shoulder. The leader, the one who'd been about to execute Doc, had retreated behind one of the SUVs.
He was shouting orders, coordinating his men with military precision. Eva counted quickly. 10 armed men total. Three down already thanks to Boone's initial charge. Seven still active.
And in the center of it all, still tied to chairs in the open, completely exposed, the six other hostages. Three elderly women huddled together screaming. Three elderly men trying to shield the women with their bodies despite being bound. They were going to die in the crossfire. Eva made her decision in half a second.
She stood, pumped the Remington, and ran. Not toward cover, toward the hostages. "Eva! " Marcus's voice behind her, urgent and terrified. She didn't stop. Bullets kicked up dust at her feet.
She heard the crack of a round passing close to her head. Didn't matter. She reached the first chair, a woman maybe 70, gray-haired and sobbing. Eva grabbed the chair, dragged it backward toward the ore cart. The woman weighed maybe 110 lb.
The chair added another 20. Eva's back screamed in protest, her 73-year-old muscles burning. She made it to cover, dumped the woman next to Doc. "Stay down. " Eva commanded. She went back for the next one, a man this time, heavier.
75 if he was a day, face weathered like old leather. Former military, maybe he had that look. "Come on, soldier. " Eva grunted, pulling. "Help me out here. " The man tried to hop the chair backward as she pulled. Together they made it to the ore cart.
Four more to go. Boone saw what she was doing. He laid down covering fire forcing the traffickers to keep their heads down. Marcus did the same from his position. Eva grabbed the third hostage, another woman, this one maybe 65, younger than the others.
A nurse, Eva thought, something about the way she held herself. "What's your name? " Eva asked, dragging the chair. "S- Sarah. " The woman stammered. "Well, Sarah, we're getting you out of here. " Three down, three to go. Eva's heart hammered, her breath came in ragged gasps.
She wasn't 20 anymore, wasn't 40. Every muscle screamed, but Garrett's voice was in her head. When it matters, you don't think, you just act. She grabbed the fourth hostage. That's when the traffickers realized what she was doing.
"The old [ __ ] is freeing them. " Someone shouted. Gunfire intensified. A round punched through the wooden post 6 inches from Eva's head. She kept pulling. Marcus and Boone redoubled their covering fire.
One of the bikers, Stone, Eva thought, charged from cover with a battle cry, drawing fire away from her. Eva got the fourth hostage to safety, a woman older with kind eyes despite the terror. "Thank you. " The woman whispered. "Thank you. Thank you. " "Save it for when we're out. " Eva said, already turning back.
Two more, Susannah. The fifth hostage was the heaviest yet, a big man, maybe 6'4, probably 240. Former construction worker, Eva guessed from his calloused hands. She grabbed the chair, pulled with everything she had. It barely moved.
"Come on. " Eva hissed. "Come on. " The man rocked the chair trying to help. Inch by inch they moved toward cover. A bullet hit the ground between them. Then another.
Boone was shouting something Eva couldn't hear. Marcus stood from cover emptying his Colt at the traffickers giving Eva those crucial seconds. She got the big man to the ore cart, collapsed against the metal gasping. One more. Just one more.
Eva looked across the clearing. The last hostage, a man, thin, probably 70, sat alone in the killing zone. His eyes found Eva's. He shook his head, mouthed the words, "Leave me. " "Like hell. " Eva muttered. She started across the clearing again.
That's when she heard the click behind her head. The cold press of a gun barrel against her skull. "Drop it, Grandma. " A voice said. Eva froze. The Remington fell from her hands.