Page 37 of Holding the Line

Marsh’s grip tightened on the wheel as he cursed around gritted teeth, but his breathing evened slightly.“Don’t be fucking reasonable when I want to burn the world to ashes!The only reason Ty still breaths is that I saw him move in front of you.”

“For a big guy, he moves damn fast.”That made him think and then Eli managed a small grin.“Damn, babe ...your leg’s gotta be strong as hell to dead lift me like that.”

Marsh shot him a death glare.

Eli winked.“Remind me never to piss off your prosthetic.”

Marsh made a sound that was half-laugh, half-growl, but his hands never stopped gripping the wheel like he could steer backward through time and save him from getting shot.

Eli let the silence take over then, watching the trees blur past, the pain starting to pulse in his arm.They were safe—for now.But the warning hung in the air like smoke.

****

The four men stoodat attention before the Colonel, their presence still humming with the tension of the encounter.Mud splattered on their boots, clothes smelling of powder and pine.

“The message was sent,” the tallest of them said with a hint of smug satisfaction.“And received loud and clear.”

Another one, his eyes sharp under a scarred brow, added, “He was there.We made sure he knew it wasn’t a bluff.”

The Colonel leaned back in his chair, his expression near reverent.He drummed his fingers against the polished oak desk.“And the others?”

“Rattled but still standing. The shot went exactly where we meant it to.They returned fire, just one shot.Took Benson in the vest.”

The man who had spoken first turned to the Colonel.“Sir ...one of them.I recognized him.Ezra Navarro.He had a brother, Donovan Knowles.”

That made the Colonel pause.

The leader of their group said.“Van Knowles.”He whistled low.“Pathfinder.Those bastards were legends.”

“He wasn’t just a legend, sir.Van was part of a team even the brass wouldn’t say out loud unless they had clearance.And if Ezra’s anything like him, this is going to get ...complicated.”

One of the men spoke again, his tone quieter now.“Sir, there was a mission, years ago.Urban jungle in West Africa.Whole cartel cell wiped out in under six hours.No casualties on our side.No video.No trace.Just whispers.People believed that it was ghosts.”

Another nodded slowly.“That was the Pathfinders.I’d bet my rifle on it.They made it look like magic.Or a nightmare.Ezra’s brother Van led that op.There are stories intel officers won’t even log.We’re not dealing with amateurs.”

The Colonel’s eyes gleamed.“Good.Let the myth make them bold.And let it fuel our resolve.”

The Colonel stood, rounded his desk.He reached for the locked drawer and retrieved a black case.It landed on the desk with a metallic thud.

He popped it open.Inside—stacks of untraceable bills.Thick, tempting.

The scarred one crossed his arms.“This is going to take planning.Time.And a lot more men.It’s not impossible, and if I’m honest,” the man smiled, “I’d like to try our men up against the Pathfinders.I reckon we have what it takes to take them down.”

The Colonel waved a hand.“Fine.Get more men.Take some time.”He leaned forward, voice dropping into a growl.“But not too much.I want my rabbit back.Bring him back to me.My rabbit’s been running too long.”His fingers traced the lid of the case.“Do whatever you have to.”

And for the first time in weeks, the Colonel smiled.Wide.Certain.Triumphant.