Operation: Midnight Guardian. Linda Castillo

      “Excellent,” the terrorist said. “Let’s go.”

      As the pilot stepped into the craft, the terrorist raised his handgun and fired a single shot. Blood spattered the yellow fuselage. The pilot pitched forward and landed on the ground with a thud.

      “That’s for killing Sean Cutter,” the terrorist muttered.

      Horror and disbelief pummeled her like fists. Another man dead. All because these men wanted the plans for the final phase of EDNA….

      She wondered how long she would hold up under torture. She wondered how terrible it would be. And in that instant she decided there was no way she could let them take her alive.

      “Fire!”

      Mattie glanced toward the chopper to see black smoke billowing from its fuselage. Surprised shouts erupted all around her. The men scrambled from the craft. “Grab the extinguisher!” one of them shouted.

      “Watch the woman!”

      “The fire is coming from the engine! Quickly, put it out!”

      Run!

      The flight instinct kicked in with a vengeance. Refusing to think of repercussions, she spun away from the chopper and literally ran for her life.

      She darted across the clearing to the forest, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. She scrambled over the trunk of a fallen tree, through brush that tore at her slacks. She knew they would catch her; there was no way she could elude four men with guns. But terror and adrenaline were driving her, not logic.

      Shouts erupted as she fled. She heard her pursuers behind her, following her, breaking through brush. Praying for a miracle, she glanced over her shoulder toward the place where the man called Cutter had fallen.

      But he was gone.

      Chapter Three

      Cutter was no stranger to pain. While the Kevlar vest had saved his life, it hadn’t prevented the bullet from doing a number on his ribs. The vial of fake blood had helped fool them into believing he was mortally wounded, giving him the chance to start the engine fire as a diversion. But with no weapon, no radio, and four well-armed killers to deal with, staying alive would surely prove to be a tad more difficult.

      But it was Mattie Logan who was foremost in his mind as he hurried down the deer trail in search of her. He could hear the men shouting in the distance and knew it would be only a matter of time before they caught up with her. Within minutes of capturing her they would load her onto the chopper and cross the border into Canada. He had no intention of letting that happen.

      He turned right at a jut of rock and poured on the speed. Agony tore through his chest with every breath, but he didn’t slow down. He didn’t let himself think about the pain or the odds he faced. He had to find Logan before the terrorists did….

      Operating on little more than animal instinct, he ran toward the tall, dense piñon pines. Logan had fled southwest. If he held his direction, he would intercept her. Hopefully before the others did. But Cutter knew finding her wasn’t the toughest challenge he faced. The hard part was going to be getting out of there without getting shot….

      The sound of footsteps sent him diving for cover in a blanket of juniper. Peering through the foliage, he caught a glimpse of blond hair and pale skin. He heard the hiss of panicked breaths rushing through clenched teeth.

      Logan.

      He caught her arm as she passed. Carried by the momentum of her sprint, she stumbled and nearly fell, but Cutter caught her. He slapped a hand over her mouth, catching the scream that would have revealed their position. He felt an impression of soft skin and small bones within his grasp. The hint of lemon and rosemary in silky hair as she swung around. But all of those things were punctuated by panic and terror. A dangerous state if he didn’t gain control of the situation pronto.

      No time to take her to the ground and subdue her. No time for an explanation. For an instant, she fought back like an animal snared in the deadly teeth of a steel trap. He made eye contact and gave her a hard shake. “If you want to live, come with me,” he said in a low voice.

      She went still and blinked at him as if waking from a bad dream. “I…I thought you were d-dead.”

      “So did they, evidently.” He looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

      “How do I know I can trust you?”

      “You don’t,” he said and hauled her into a dead run.

      A DEAD MAN had saved her life.

      It was the only thought Mattie’s brain could manage. She didn’t know how, but somehow Cutter had survived a gunshot to the chest. Though at the moment, running from men bent on killing them, she didn’t necessarily care.

      Snow and sleet blinded her as she ran. It took every ounce of physical ability she possessed to keep up with Cutter and maintain her footing. One tiny miscalculation and she would fall—a mistake that would surely prove deadly.

      It felt as if they had been running forever. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. Mattie didn’t know how she kept going. The primal will to live.

      “Whoa. Easy.”

      She felt a hard tug on her hand. Cutter was pulling her back, slowing her down.

      “Can’t…stop,” she panted.

      “It’s okay.”

      “They’ll kill us.”

      “I’m not going to let them kill anyone.”

      Mattie looked over her shoulder, but the trail they’d just traveled was deserted. She listened for footsteps, but the only sound came from their labored breathing and the soft thud of sleet against the ground.

      Giving her a look that told her he was too damn beat to give chase if she decided to take off, Cutter released her, then bent at the hip to gulp air. “We need to rest, catch our breath.”

      Mattie thought about running, but her legs had evidently decided they’d had enough exertion for one day. When she started to walk away, her knees buckled. She fell forward onto her hands and knees, and for a moment she could do nothing but breathe.

      “Take a moment to catch your breath. Then we’ve got to keep moving.”

      Mattie raised her head and glared at him. “It’s going to take a lot longer than a moment for me to catch my breath.”

      They’d stopped in a small clearing. The boughs of the piñon pines were covered with snow. Mattie wondered if they’d gained elevation. If that was why it seemed colder, the air thinner and more difficult to breathe.

      “Come on.” Cutter crossed to her and extended his hand. “Time to go.”

      Mattie considered refusing his hand. But she wasn’t sure she could rise on her own, so she reached for him. “Back at the chopper, how did you manage the fire?”

      “I didn’t.” He pulled her to her feet. “What you saw was a smoke grenade. A diversion.”

      No, she thought. He was no ordinary cop. But if he wasn’t a cop what agency was he with? CIA? Homeland Security? She wondered why he had been sent to take her back. Why not local law enforcement? Why not the FBI or the U.S. Marshals Service.

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      “I’m the man who’s going to keep you alive.” His icy blue eyes burned into hers. “Right now, that’s all you need to know.”

      THE SON OF A BITCH had beaten him at his own game once again.

      The Jaguar paced the snow-covered ground with the sleek elegance of his namesake. Dark anticipation and a keen sense of unfinished business had him feeling restless and edgy. Not only was Sean Cutter alive, but he was psychologically and physically sound and working for the CIA again.