Page 116 of Covert Mission

But it stops and won’t give. Fucking hell. The strap is too short.

As strong as I am, I can’t move the damned truck by pulling on the strap.

“Motherf-n son of a bitch!”

I don’t have time to move the truck closer.

I wiggle around on my back and try a spot on the bus’s frame.

There’s a noise above me. A groan of metal.

My lungs lock up as my pulse skips. No, don’t you dare…

I have to hurry. This thing could go over the cliff any second.

Taking care not to bump anything, I hook it around part of the frame and attach the strap.

It’s too soon to celebrate. I use my feet to drag my body out from under the rear bumper and climb to my feet.

Now, the winch.

A man is standing by my truck as I run toward it. “You need help?”

He’s vaguely familiar. Possibly a local that I saw in town.

“Grab the winch cable.” I motion toward the front bumper.

I reach inside the cab and turn the winch controls on.

My clothing is soaked with stress sweat. I’m vibrating with adrenaline as I round the truck to watch over him pulling the hook toward the bus.

But he’s not pulling the winch cable out.

He’s pointing a gun at me.

ChapterThirty-Seven

There’s never a good time to point a gun in my face, but right now, this fucker’s messed with the wrong man.

“Drop your weapon!” Rage crackles through me, flooding my muscles with energy.

He shuffles between his feet.

Recognition hits.

While I was standing guard over Camile and her team, the guy was slinking around Santa Rosa talking to one of the rebels.

Two beady eyes are trained on me. He motions with the pistol’s muzzle. In very bad English, he seals his fate. “Get on the ground.”

“Like fuck, I will.”

“Stupid man, get on the ground.”

I’ve always appreciated the training I had in the Navy, but never more than right now with all those people—including Camile— depending on me to save their lives.

Before he has time to make any other move, I take control of the situation.

His face goes slack with shock a split-second before my foot connects with his arm. The weapon thuds onto the ground.