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T he pelting raindrops stung his face and hands, as Darius made his way through the garden, not giving a shit about all the colorful blooms he smashed with his feet along the way.

He was grateful he’d covered Tahira with the tarp, since he’d been soaked within seconds of leaving the confines of the mansion, and the horrors it held, behind.

Tahira.

At the end of the garden, using a large shrub to conceal their silhouettes, he scanned the expanse and surrounding area between where he stood and the stone wall.

The battle still raged on the other side of the property, and Darius wondered why this end seemed to be clear. Not that he would complain.

After checking his grip on Tahira’s motionless body, Darius took off at a dead run.

The muddied soil of the lush lawn tried to suck his feet into its depths as he zig-zagged across it, making each step more difficult than the last. Moving in a straight line made a person an easy target, and even though it seemed they were in the clear, Darius wouldn’t risk going against his training.

Reaching the gate, Darius cursed when he saw a lock and chain keeping it shut.

Pointing the muzzle of the automatic weapon at the lock, he fired a burst of bullets, destroying the hinderance keeping him from getting Tahira to safety.

Hopefully the storm and gunfight on the other side of the property had muffled his shots.

He kicked open the gate, then glanced back to make sure they hadn’t been spotted.

Water rolled down his brow into his eyes, and he shook his head to clear his vision.

It was a short run to the tree line, but the mud he was now dealing with was worse than before.

Each sinking step was a struggle to stay upright and moving.

He’d give anything to have his favorite military boots right then.

The construction boots he had on had been part of his cover.

He’d arrived at the Diaz compound with summer clothes.

Apparently, the spoiled rich kid, “Glenn Hamilton,” thought the entire continent of South America was sunny and warm all year round.

Members of the cartel had laughed at the estúpido gringo .

Carlos had been ordered to take him shopping the next day for more appropriate clothing.

Once he hit the edge of the woods, the ground was harder, and it was easier to maneuver.

He jogged into the shadows of the tall canopy of pine, eucalyptus, and willow trees for about a hundred yards before, ducking behind a thick, bark-covered trunk and peering around to see if he’d been spotted or followed.

There was no sign of life, human or otherwise.

The wildlife was probably hunkered down against the teeming fury released by Mother Nature.

Turning his head into Tahira’s hip, he put his mouth as close to his watch as possible. “Batman to Home Base. The princess and I are clear, heading to Rendezvous Oscar. Blow the place to kingdom come.”

A few seconds ticked by as Darius wondered if his transmission had been received.

Without his earpiece, he could only hope Egghead and Cookie were just making certain all the good guys were also out of the blast zone.

Once they got the go-ahead, they’d send a signal to a satellite they were patched into, which would then set off the explosives Darius had hidden throughout the mansion the day before.

Some might think it was overkill, but the less evidence a US-sanctioned agent had spent the past few months living there, the better.

It had been a relief to know Diaz had sent his wife and kids out of the country, and Secada had dismissed the innocent housekeeping and kitchen staff for the day.

Darius would have hated for any of them to have been killed in the destructive maelstrom taking place.

Just when he thought they hadn’t heard him in Tampa, a tremendous roar filled the night, drowning out everything but its destruction of the house.

Maybe he’d used a little too much C4 because even from that distance, he could feel the scorching heat of the fire.

Letting the rifle hang from its sling, Darius reached back and found Tahira’s wrist and quickly checked her pulse.

She was already ice cold, and her heart rate was too fast. Damn it.

He could lose her to hypothermia before they reached the orphanage.

It was too far a hike in the crappy conditions to risk it.

He had to find shelter for the night and get her dressed and warm.

Hopefully, she’d be awake by the time the weather cleared.

If his teammates had gotten his transmissions, they’d start working their way from the orphanage toward the Diaz property, looking for him and Tahira when they failed to show up right away.

But the team knew he’d do what anyone of them would have done and that was get the unconscious woman dry and protect her until it was safe for them to travel again.

Turning his back on the fiery ruins, he set out to find a shelter to hunker down in for a few hours.