And then Jack was through the door, cutting hard to the left and heading down the slope for the trees. The path to the Taurus was off to his right across the clearing, but all that open space would make him an easy target. The trees were closer down the slope. They’d provide cover as he worked his way around to the car.

The clouds had thickened overhead, darkening the afternoon sky. He remembered that this was one of the shortest days of the year. The light would be fading fast. And that could only help him.

More gunfire behind him, and another scream from Alicia. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw Yoshio pop through the door going full tilt, his arms and legs pumping wildly as he veered toward Jack. And his empty hands showed he’d had as much luck as Jack in capturing a weapon.

Jack reached the trees then and had to slow because of the underbrush and the branches. He put the six-inch trunk of an oak between the cabin and himself and stopped. Crouching in the brush, he looked back. Yoshio was almost down the slope to the trees—the guy was fast—when the merc called Barlowe leaped through the door and started firing.

“Come on,” Jack whispered as Yoshio began weaving left and right. “Come on!”

And then Yoshio let out a short, sharp cry and went down, clutching his thigh. But still he kept crawling toward the trees. Baker and Kenny joined Barlowe as he caught up to Yoshio and planted a boot in his back, pinning him to the ground.

Jack watched Baker give some orders. Barlowe and Kenny split, one to the right, the other left.

Good move, Jack thought. These guys were experienced. Kenny’s heading would cut Jack off from the car while Barlowe circled around to get behind him.

Jack held his ground, watching Baker who remained behind with Yoshio. He saw him say something to the prone man, then bend and position his pistol about an inch from the back of Yoshio’s head.

Jack pounded back the urge to shout, to charge—he was too far away to do any good. He heard a 9mm crack! and saw Yoshio’s body jerk, spasm, then lie still.

Jack closed his eyes and swallowed, then took a deep breath and opened them. Yoshio’s body lay facedown where he’d fallen, and Baker was walking back toward the cabin like a gardener who’d just pulled an annoying weed and left it lying on the lawn.

Jack had kind of liked Yoshio, even though he’d only spoken to him that one time in the car. Some sort of kinship there; he thought they’d both sensed it. But Yoshio was no innocent bystander. He was a killer by his own admission. And he’d known the risks.

But still… the way Baker had seemed to relish that head shot…