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He tried to jump in front of her, but his feet were rooted to the ground like a Ponderosa pine. Then the bullets started flying, and one struck him in the center of his chest. Thank god, this time they shot him instead. But rather than taking him down, the bullet bounced off his chest and fell to the grass at his feet. Still unable to move, he reached for the gun holstered at his hip but it was stuck. He fought to get it out, even knowing he wouldn’t be in time.

The car maneuvered down the street in slow motion, a gun sticking out the window, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Finally, his vocal cords relaxed, and he screamed for Cara to get down. But his words dragged out like a record playing at a speed much too slow to be understood.

Cara paid no attention to the car anyway. No, her stare was pinned on him. Eyes filled with betrayal, she kept repeating, “Why? Why didn’t you help me, Boone?” over and over.

“Cara!” He bellowed out her name. “CARA!”

And then she jerked backward as a red stain spread over her chest. As she crumpled to the ground, his feet released, and he ran to her side. Her eyes were closed, her face drained of color, her chest not moving.

“Call an ambulance,” he screamed. That is, he opened his mouth and formed words, but once again, he couldn’t make a sound.

He reached for her, but as he did, she shot straight up, grabbing his wrist before he could press his palm against the gunshot wound in her chest to slow the bleeding. Her eyes were open, the betrayal still there. “You didn’t save me,” she accused. “You let me die.”

“No,” he said. “No! I tried, Cara Bear, I tried. I TRIED!”

Boone jerked awake,still screaming, drenched with sweat. His chest squeezed his heart, and his stomach roiled. Throwing back the covers, he raced to the toilet and emptied his stomach.

When the heaving calmed, he shifted to sit on the floor and leaned against the side of the tub. His throat stung from the bile, and hot tears poured from his eyes. He ignored them.

He’d had one fucking job as a pararescuer. Protect his fellow brothers and sisters in arms. Failure was not an option. And yet when it mattered the most, that was exactly what he had done. Failed.

He’d made a vow to be prepared at all times to perform and place his duties before his personal desires and comforts so that others may live. Yet, he’d failed one of his own teammates, his Cara Bear. He’d been in charge. It was his responsibility. That’swhy Grif and Dutch were going in as the retrieval part of this mission. Taking Midnight out was for Boone and Boone alone.

He reached for some toilet paper to clean up the mess of tears and snot and considered smashing his head against the porcelain tank of the toilet. But not yet. Not until he made Nico Midnight pay for what he’d stolen from them.

Maybe when he ended Midnight’s life, the nightmares plaguing him would end, and his life could regain some semblance of normal. Frankly, he didn’t hold out much hope. All he knew was killing Midnight was the only thing he’d lived for the past three years. And now it was time.

Clawing his way off the floor, he found his phone and called Grif. “Yeah?” Grif answered on the first ring.

“Get Dutch and get ready. We’re rolling out in twenty.”

The sleepy tone vanished when Grif said, “Right now? It’s three o'clock in the morning.”

“Is that a problem?” Boone growled.

“Fuck no,” Grif said. “See you in twenty.”

Boone ended the call and checked his bag again. Scrawling a quick note to his family, he apologized for leaving without that last round of goodbyes. He checked his watch and headed out to pick up Grif and Dutch.

He made it in ten.

CHAPTER 2

Tildi Lewis huddled in a corner of the tiny room she’d been forced to call home for the past week. It had been forever since she’d been kidnapped. She wasn’t sure exactly the length of time she had been missing. She’d lost track the tenth time they’d moved her.

At least the room she was in now had a small window. It gave her a glimpse of the latest compound grounds, not that the barren landscape was much to write home about. Unfortunately, as it had no window pane, it also let in a frigid sea breeze once sunset came. With her eyes squeezed shut, she tried to picture a sun-bathed, open meadow with plenty of room to move and breathe. The distant crash of ocean waves made it tough.

The waves disappeared with her ability to breathe when thudding footsteps echoed off the hallway's stone walls. The louder they grew, the louder her heart thundered. When whoever it was stopped in front of her door, the meadow scene she’d been striving to picture evaporated.

It was futile, but she couldn’t stop herself from scanning her room for the millionth time for a place to hide. Other than the paper-thin mattress on the floor, one threadbare blanket, and abucket in the far corner for unmentionable things, the room sat bare.

She froze, straining for any new sound from the hallway that might warn her of unwelcome visitors. She couldn’t take another breath until the heavy tread of footsteps clomped away from her door and faded.

Forcing air back into her lungs, Tildi worked at slowing the pace of her racing heart. Nothing could have prepared her for how much her life would change when she’d been stolen away from everything she knew.

“You worry too much,” Tildi had assured her sister, Breezy, what must have been around a year earlier. “I’ve been taking care of myself for five years now. And my life is way better than it was living with you and mom at home under our father’s, oh, sorry, I mean the General’s thumb.”