Chapter 59

Santiago heard the low rumbling of the high performance engine a minute before the vehicle broke from the tree line. Max had positioned him with a view of the spot where the mining road emptied into the small plain. The rest of the ambushing force was spread out behind him. He was the front line.

Santiago was using a high-tech blanket and a large boulder to mask his thermal signature. The vehicle they were hunting appeared to have some kind of specialized camera mounted to the front. Most likely, it contained a thermal capture system. The blanket would keep him from being spotted by it.

At the sound of the engine and creak of the suspension, Santiago carefully rose into a crouch and prepared his Russian-made RPG. He had three shells, but didn't expect to need more than one.

For the past seven years, Santiago had been a mercenary for hire. He had worked for a series of ruthless cartels in South America before deciding to get out of the business. Mercenaries like him had a short shelf life in the cocaine trade.

During a cocaine deal at the rehab center, Santiago had joined Max's army after Max offered him a cut if he would kill the cartel's number two man and frame the man's younger brother. The deal had proved highly profitable, and Santiago could have retired, but he enjoyed the anonymity of working for Max. It didn't hurt that the pay was outstanding. If he could kill this sly punta and the gringo with her, he would be able to get a nice place in Jamaica. A vacation house in the Caribbean, the American dream, he thought to himself as he filled the cold, metal sights of the RPG with the armored vehicle.

He was supposed to wait until the Jeep passed him, and attack it from behind as soon as Max gave the order. Fuck it. Santiago didn't want to share the prize money with the other scumbags in his team, and he knew they felt exactly the same way about him.

Santiago estimated the speed of the armored vehicle and put a slight lead on the front bumper. He focused on controlling his breathing. He was shooting from an extreme range and needed to be completely stable when he fired. He squeezed the trigger. The rocket motor whooshed to life, and the deadly projectile raced toward the shark's teeth painted on the front fender. Santiago immediately began reloading the weapon. He never had a chance to see whether the rocket hit its intended target. Ten slugs from the twin SAWs tore through his body.

The Hemi V-8 responded instantly as Liv frantically stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The Hennessey turbochargers spooled up, and the tachometer needle surged. The MATTRACKS bit into the powder and the Jeep's speed doubled, almost instantly. The acceleration shoved Liv and Finn deep into their seats. The RPG grew larger in the gun camera monitor. Time slowed to a crawl as the deadly projectile charged toward them.

"Shit, this is gonna be loud." Fear filled Liv's voice. She closed her eyes and waited for impact, her foot still firmly pressed on the gas pedal. Seconds passed, but the explosion never came. She opened one eye and looked at her monitor. Liv switched to the rear camera. A trail of smoke was clearly visible. The deadly projectile had passed harmlessly through the space occupied, just moments earlier, by the SRT-8.

"Where the fuck did they get a goddamn rocket!?" Liv's heart pounded in her chest. "But more importantly, did you get that guy? Please tell me you fucking got that guy!"