Simon Falkowski. What a sight for sore eyes.

He and I served together, sort of, way back in a different country. A different life, even.

Ashley and I came bursting out of the woods, running straight to the passenger side of the car.

“Mind telling me what the fuck’s going on?” Simon asked as I shoved Ashley into the backseat.

“Bad guys!” I barked as I hopped in. “Move it!”

Simon nodded, his dark pompadoured hair bobbing as he climbed behind the wheel and threw the SUV in reverse with a spin of tires. He pulled off a quick tactical turn on the narrow drive, slammed it back into drive, and took off down toward the highway. “Those them?”

I turned in my seat and glanced back through the window, just in time to see them bringing their automatics up to their shoulders. “Get down!”

Eyes wide in surprise, Ashley hunkered down in her seat as the guns ratatat-tatted behind us, a stray bullet hitting the SUV’s rear window and shattering it. Moments later, we took another curve in the drive, blocking us from their view, and Simon gunned it, trying to beat them if they tried to break through the trees and flank us.

With one hand nearly palming the back of Ashley’s head to make sure she stayed put, I kept an eye on the back of the truck as we raced down the drive. Behind us, two of the cartel guys came bursting out of the woods, but Simon hung the turn tight and looped us back around before they could even get their firearms up.

“Pissed those guys off real good, didn’t you?” Simon growled, his Chicago accent coming through loud and clear as we tore down the road, using the speed limit as just a helpful guideline.

“Something like that. Ashley, you okay?”

“Yeah, Frank, I’m okay,” she said, batting my hand away and sitting back up in the seat with a tentative glance towards the back.

“We gotta get out of here,” I muttered to Simon. “Those guys back there had a truck pulled up around the road on the far side of the estate. I winged two of them when they attacked the cabin, but they might be able to swing around and wait for us.”

“No sense in being reckless, is there?” Simon asked, grinning mirthlessly as he slammed the gas down harder, the SUV surging forward.

I glanced over at Simon as he kept both eyes focused on the road ahead in case there were any more surprises. He was an ex-Marine. But, like they say, once a Marine, always a Marine. Falkowski and I, we’d both been private security down in Brazil. We worked for different families at the time, but were still doing the same job, more or less.

But, just like in any job, you end up meeting a lot of people who work in the same industry as you. And, like any industry, you end up drinking with them a lot. Some of the time it’s because they’re good, interesting people. But most of the time it’s because no one understands your job like someone in the thick of it right alongside you.

Hell, even if you work in insurance, normal people just aren’t going to understand what you’re bitching about. They won’t commiserate, won’t sympathize with just how awful your day was. No, if you want that, you gotta find other people in the biz.

That’s how I knew Simon. We hadn’t exactly bonded over bullets flying over our heads or anything, like I did with the guys in the service. Just shots of cachaça going down our gullets—and, of course, bitching about the lady of the house making passes at us to piss off her husband, or their daughters acting like spoiled little brats.

He was a good guy, as far as I knew. We’d never been in a scrape before together, not like this, but at least his evasive automotive maneuvering skills weren’t rusty. He’d pulled off that reverse switch like a pro.

Simon looked up at Ashley in the rearview mirror. “Ms. Maxwell?”

She glanced up and met his eyes warily. “Yeah.”

“Simon Falkowski with Eagle Eye Security. I’m here to pick you up, ma’am.”

I looked at her and gave her a shrug.

“Me?” she asked, shaking her head. “Why me?”

“Because someone’s paying me to deliver you in one piece, ma’am.”

“Who?” Ashley asked as we took the final turn of the drive. The gate loomed ahead of us.

“Not at liberty to say, not yet.” He looked at me pointedly. “Pretty sure you’re cool, Frank, but can’t be too careful with this kind of thing. You understand, right?”

“I think we have a right to know who’s contracting you,” Ashley said as he pulled up to the number pad and deftly entered the six-digit passcode. “I think I have that right, at least.”

“Ma’am, just as soon as we have you somewhere secure,” he replied as the gate came to life and began to swing open.

“Hey, Simon, she’s mine. I’ve got this one with my company.”

He cast me a sidelong look, then turned back to the road with a nod as he pulled up the drive to the highway. “You working?”

“What? Think I’m getting shot up for fun?”

“Hadn’t heard you were back in the biz, thought you cut out after, well, you know…”

Together, we checked the road both ways. No black Tahoes, no black Suburbans. Nothing either way. We looked like we were in the clear.

I shook my head as I gave him the thumbs up on my side. “Came up here and got certified with a private security firm. Protection, PI work.”

“Oh yeah? Knew you’d pull yourself back up after all that. Can’t keep a good man down.”

I snorted. “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence. That’s beside the point, though. She’s with me and I wanna know where we’re going, or you can let both of us off at the next cabin up here. We’ll catch our own ride into town.”

He sighed. “It’s against protocol, but fine. M Three Investments is the one footing the bill on this one.”

I furrowed my brow and twisted back to look at Ashley. “That mean something to you?”

She smiled broadly, nodding like this was the best news she’d heard all day. “Yes, thank God! That’s my father’s company! Did he send you?”

“Can’t say, ma’am. But we’ll be able to tell you everything once we arrive at our destination.”

She settled back into her seat, her arms crossed.

I pulled my phone out and settled down into my seat as well. “Drive on, then, I guess. Hi-yo, Simon, away.” I pulled out my phone to call Peter and let him know what was up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Simon said, frantically glancing over at me as I put the phone to my ear. “The fuck is that, Frank? Fuck no! Put that shit away!”

“What?” I asked, alarmed.

“You positive that phone’s clean?”

I blinked. “Yeah. I mean, I think so. Our IT person checks them every week. Never had an issue before.”

“Are you one-hundred percent sure? Whoever we’re trying to keep Ms. Maxwell away from is tracking cell phones, taping conversations, monitoring social media, the works.”

“Man, I’m fine.”

“Has it been checked today?” he asked. I didn’t respond. “Well?”

“Not fucking today,” I spat. “Look, I just need to check in with my boss, that’s all.”

Ashley leaned forward. “What’s wrong? Why can’t Frank call his office?”

“Ms. Maxwell, you have to understand, this is serious business. You saw those guys back there? Your cabin being broken into last night? This is all just the tip of the iceberg here. We’re dealing with some serious high-threat instigators, and they’ve proven themselves pretty damned capable, to put it bluntly. This isn’t the only property of your father’s that was searched in this way. It seemed like a coordinated effort.”

I growled, but stuffed my phone back away. “You got a secure line I can use where we’re going?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Soon as we get there, Frank, you can call whoever the hell you want. Promise.”

“Good.”

“In the meantime, though, I’m going to need you both to take the batteries from your phones.”

I went to protest, but he just raised his hand.

“Some of the stuff these guys have been capable of, we’re talking CIA, covert level. We’re doing maximum counterintelligence here. Defcon one, terror threat level red. Got it?”

“Defcon one?” Ashley asked from the back seat. “Isn’t that low?”

I turned around a little. “The Air Force is weird. We just try to avoid them.”

She cracked a smile at that one. “Well, I don’t even have my phone. I forgot it back in the cabin when we ran from those guys.”

“Then just you Frank. Look, do you want those guys blindsiding us?”

“Fine,” I grumbled, popping the battery from my phone. “Happy?”

“That’s better,” Simon said. “Thanks.”

I glanced back at Ashley, and we exchanged a quick look. My eyes shielded from his view, I looked sideways at Simon, asking her what she thought of him.

She nodded a little, raising her index finger. Even after just the short amount of time with her, I knew what she meant. She was reserving judgment. But, even with her holding back her yea or nay, I could see she was mildly relieved he’d been contracted by her father’s company.

But the question still remained—who within the company had hired Simon’s organization? Her father, Mr. Martin Maxwell himself? Or someone else? And what were those cartel guys after?