Olivia tried to push Logan away, but he clamped down on her shoulder, making her stay put. All he saw was blood oozing from her shoulder. He flipped off his microphone. Screw ICE, he’d go silent and give her some privacy. “You’re not going anywhere until I slap a battle dressing on that. What happened?” He snatched a compression bandage out of his vest.

She pushed again. “I’m fine.”

He tore the packaging with his teeth. “This’ll only take a sec.” Designed to be applied with one hand, he flipped open the bandage with his thumb then examined her arm. “Looks like a jagged cut.”

“It’s just a graze. The bullet missed.” She shifted her legs. Blood was smeared between her thighs. “Come on, we’re wasting time!”

“Jesus Christ. Are you cut there, too?” He fastened the arm bandage tight to stop the bleeding.

“Just my thigh. It’s nothing.” She gave him a hard shove and stood.

Blinking, Logan swiped a hand across his mouth while fury churned in his gut. He’d seen a lot of heinous things in his life, but finding Olivia naked and curled into a ball with blood spread across her shoulder and arm and more blood between her thighs brought out the beast within from the depths of his soul.

Cold-blooded murder came to mind. Fuck! Give him an M60 machine gun and a couple thousand rounds of ammo and he’d cut down the entire ISIS army without an iota of remorse.

He didn’t have to guess that the pile of clothes by the chair belonged to Olivia. His mind went berserk as he clenched his fists and watched her stagger to them. Red blood contrasted with ghostly white skin. She looked like a train wreck.

“Al-Umari?” Logan asked. “Which way did he go?”

“Out there.” She pointed, pulling on the abaya. It had been sliced open all the way down. What had that freak done to her?

Logan’s gaze honed on the bullet holes across the wall. “What happened here?”

“Al-Umari tried to have a one-man party.” She tied the burka around her waist to keep the smock closed.

“Tried? It looks like he gave it a hell of an effort.”

“He did.” Olivia held out her hand. “I need your sidearm.”

Logan hesitated, staring at her with a gazillion damning questions on the tip of his tongue. Never in his life had he experienced the gamut of emotions now making his heart pound clear up to his temples. For the love of God, she’d put out for queen and country before, why wouldn’t she now? How far had al-Umari gotten before all hell broke loose?

She stamped her foot shaking her palm. “Hurry! He’s getting away.”

Logan unsheathed the weapon and handed it to her butt first. “Are you all right?” He shouldn’t need to ask, but she looked like she might fall on her face with her next step.

“I’ll be cracking hot once we nab that bastard.”

“Did he…?”

“He didn’t come close,” she growled, her voice filled with venom.

Thank God.

Logan readjusted his night vision goggles. Olivia lived for the hunt even more than he did. She could have been beaten within an inch of her life and, yet, she still wanted to nail the worst enemy to the human race—a man who rivaled Hitler.

After checking the magazine, she inclined her head toward the door as if she hadn’t crashed, as if he hadn’t just found her naked and curled in a ball.

“The guards are trying to get al-Umari out. This way.” Olivia took the lead.

Together, they ensured their passage was clear by using the crisscross pattern that switched point from one leader to the next. They’d practiced this move at ICE every morning and they moved in tandem like a pair of dolphins tracking a ship.

A terrorist stepped into the corridor. Olivia fired off one shot and took him out. She snatched up the dead man’s AK47 as they hastened past, then rushed ahead and out onto a terrace. The gunfire had ceased. The props of copters hummed above, the sound growing distant. To the north, the ignition blast from a jet engine boomed.

“There they are!” Olivia pointed toward the airstrip. A car was kicking up dust and heading for a plane.

Logan flicked on his mic. “Al-Umari is running for the Gulfstream on the strip. Attack!”

“WTF, Batman?” Mike shouted across the airwaves. “Apaches are halfway home and both Chinooks are loaded to the gills. We’re a hundred feet off the ground and rising.”

“Stick with the plan.” Logan continued to run beside Olivia. “Status of air support, Alfred?” Logan used Garth’s mission call sign.

“Ordering Apache unit to turn back. Will be on top of you in five.”

“We don’t have five.”

“I see them!” Mike’s deep bass boomed into Logan’s earpiece. “A black car just peeled out of the garage, turning left and heading for Gulfstream. Engine lights are hot.”

“Roger that. The duchess and I are running northward. Just cleared the gardens.”

“Don’t be a hero,” Garth ordered.

“Sorry, Alfred, I can’t vouch for the duchess.” After running down the steps, Logan headed through the shrubs to cut them off. Olivia didn’t miss a step, running every bit as fast.

A deafening roar came overhead. The spotlight from an Apache lit up the entire airstrip like it was midday. Heavy machine gun fire spewed down the tarmac.

The car veered north.

The Apache hovered.

“You’re not getting away this time!” Olivia barreled through the brush, blasting a burst of rapid fire at the vehicle.

It was all Logan could do to keep up with her while he signaled to the copter. “Friendlies on the ground. In pursuit of the black Mercedes!”

“Leave that to air support, Batman,” said Garth.

The Apache blinked its lights and changed course—heading for the Merc.

“You’re not getting away, you bastard!” Olivia ran for the rear gate, firing the AK47 until the magazine emptied.

Logan didn’t touch her. He followed, insuring she was safe. When the gun clicked, she dropped to her knees, a shriek of utter frustration echoed through the night air. His heart wrenched as he lowered his weapon and strode in behind her.

“I never should have let those women zip tie me to the chair. If I’d fought, I could have killed that monster as soon as he entered the room.”

“And you’d be dead.” Logan pointed toward the sound of copter. “The Apache pilot will get him.”

“No!” She shook her head vehemently. “You don’t understand. That man is a ghost.”

With a flash of light, an explosion boomed in the distance. “Looks like the ghost might be crossing over into hell about now.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’ll believe it when forensics identifies the body.”

Logan turned and surveyed the compound. A lone streetlamp managed to survive the battle, and it cast an eerie glow over the empty courtyard. “Hard to believe ten minutes ago the place was lit up by Apaches.”

Olivia slumped over, curling down into a ball. “Are all the girls out?”

“Out and headed for the USS Liberty.”

She didn’t respond as her head dropped forward and her shoulders shook.

Logan pulled her into his arms and started walking. “Alfred, this Batman,” he said into the microphone. “Mission Cat House objective achieved. Taking al-Umari’s Gulfstream for a stint of well-earned R and R.”

“You’re what?”

“It’s not a request, sir.”

“I beg your pardon? I need your ass at the Bat Cave immediately.”

“No can do, sir.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, sir.” Logan set Olivia down before climbing the stairs into the plane. He leveled his M4 at his shoulder and ascended the steps.

No one in the cabin.

Standing aside from the closed pilot’s door in case someone decided to be a hero, he aimed his weapon toward the cockpit. “Come out nice and slow.”

A barrage of bullets ripped through the door.

Logan ducked, pressing himself flat against the bulkhead. With a loud thud, the door swung open. It only took one bullet to drop the bastard. Logan let out a long breath. “You had to make me do that, didn’t you?”

Once he cleared the cockpit, he carried Olivia aboard and set her in one of the leather seats. “I’m taking you out of here.”

“No! We need to go after them.”

“Our backup is gone, sweetheart. If we don’t go now, we’ll be visiting the pearly gates come morn.”

A tear rolled down her cheek as she crossed her arms and looked out the window. “They didn’t get him, you know.”

“What do you mean? We both saw the flash.”

“I know he’s still alive. Think about it. By the time the Apache reached the car, he would have escaped.”

Logan’s gut made a sickening twist again. “Then that means it won’t be long before the pot boils over. I’m taking you out of here, princess—to a place no one will touch us.”

Fortunately, the minimal flight training Logan had received at ICE was in a Gulfstream simulator. He left Olivia buckled in and climbed into the cockpit. The fuel gauge indicated full and the takeoff was almost exactly the same as flying the sim.

Logan flipped on his mic. “Alfred, clear me for airspace.”

“Already did.”

“Thanks.”

“And Batman?”

“Yeah?”

“The Apache crew just reported the car was empty.” Garth didn’t sound happy. “Al-Umari is still at large.”

A hunk of lead sank to Logan’s toes. “Do me a favor, would you?”

“What’s that?”

“Let’s wait a while before we tell the duchess.” Even though she was convinced of al-Umari’s escape, he wouldn’t tell her just yet. She looked like hell, felt like hell, and would probably find a parachute and try to hunt him down herself if she received confirmation before he got her to Montana.

“Roger that.” A moment of silence hung in the air. “How’s she doing?”

“I think she needs to learn to ride a horse.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“See you back at ICE in thirty days.”

“Thank you, sir.”