“Why does your boss want her?” Xavier asked as he slowly drew the man away from her.

“Who the fuck knows?” the Russian said. “He’s crazy. All he cares about is killing you.”

“Me, specifically?”

“You are the one called Rivera, no? He wants you, the woman, and the Black one. Flyte.”

Lieutenant Flyte? Xavier’s friend?

She inched her way around the tree, so she could see both men. They were downslope from her now, moving south toward steeper ground. She had a full view of the Russian’s back. If she had a gun with real bullets—and was anything close to a decent shot—she could shoot him. As it was, firing a paint pellet at him would only alert him to her position.

“Why me? Why Flyte?” His voice held a different note. He’d been trying to distract the man with his questions, but this…this was important.

The Russian’s shoulders moved in a shrug as he shifted his pistol, trying to get a better line of sight on Xavier, who’d disappeared behind a tree. “Something about a woman and Belarus. I don’t really care. He’s fucking nuts, and I was leaving before he kills us all like he did Pyotr. But then I spotted you and realized I can have my payday after all.”

Shit. This man hadn’t tracked them. He’d been escaping. He’d probably looked at the maps and realized Lost Goat Trail was his best route out of the park too.

Dumb luck and bad timing.

“Mikhail wants the woman alive, but you…you’re different. Showing him proof you’re dead is all I need.”

Xavier chose that moment to bolt to a different tree.

The Russian fired his gun. The single shot echoed through the forest.

She didn’t think Xavier had been hit, but she held her breath, waiting for a sign.

She knew what he was doing as he widened the distance between them on the steep, rainy hillside.

He wanted the Russian to forget about her.

She had her instructions. They’d been repeated over and over. If something happened to one of them, the other had to continue. He was drawing the man away so she could do just that. Taking risks and moving from tree to tree, giving the man a target, pulling him downslope and farther south so Audrey could continue east.

“Help us get Mikhail, and my government will pay you. Better than he would have.” Xavier’s shout was strong. Not the words of a man who’d been shot. He was letting her know he was uninjured.

“But we must go now for the deal to work!” The words were directed at the Russian, but she knew they were intended for her.

She didn’t want to leave him.

She remembered last night, when he’d shouted for her to run, but she hadn’t. She’d turned and attacked.