Leonard had quickness on his side. In truth, he could run downstream along the southern rim of the canyon as long as he stayed back from the lip. Nathan wondered if Leonard would have time to retrieve the money before he even got there. Three million bucks in cash, just sitting out here, in the middle of nowhere. It seemed bizarre and hardly believable, but Leonard’s presence confirmed it. He was here to collect his cash, his lifetime’s worth of savings.

Nathan smiled, feeling a certain satisfaction at denying the murderer his money, but the smile vanished. Keep focused, he told himself. Keep your head in the game. As he dropped down to crawl through a section of low underbrush, he wondered how close Harv was to the chopper. They’d parted company… what? Twenty minutes ago? He should’ve looked at his watch. That omission had been careless. Maybe he was more injured than he cared to admit. He knew blood loss would soon take its toll in the form of shivers, nausea, and shock. He needed to end this battle. And end it soon. The early symptoms of shock were already evident. He had trouble concentrating and felt a little chilled. How long until his symptoms became crippling? Half an hour? Less? He doubted he’d last the two hours he’d asked for.

Approaching the horseshoe bend in the canyon, Nathan slowed his pace even more. He had to. The going was tough and he had to be careful not to disturb any of the tall stalks as he wove his way through. The good thing was that the growth was so dense here, he couldn’t see the canyon’s southern rim at all. Which meant he couldn’t be seen either. Step after step, he moved with slow precision, always watching where he placed his boots. A snapped twig or a patch of quicksand could ruin his day. He hoped he wouldn’t flush any birds either. Leonard could be twenty feet away and he wouldn’t be able to see him, but he would be able to hear him.

But Leonard’s presence wasn’t what he heard right then.

What he heard warmed his soul—the distinctive whooping drone of a helicopter’s blades biting into the afternoon air. Harv was flying Grangeland out of here. Way to go, old friend.

“McBride, you copy?”

He made Bridgestone wait.

“McBride, you there?”

A little longer…

“McBride?”

“I’m here. That’s Harv, flying out of here with Grangeland. It’s just you, me, and the mountain lion now.”

“Good.”

“Don’t be so pleased. There’s a catch, Bridgestone. You see, time is not on your side. In two hours, Harv is going to call in the cavalry and you can kiss your millions good-bye. You can’t know how much that breaks my heart.”

“Like you said, McBride, we’ve got a couple hours to settle things.”