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Back One Last Chance Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. CHAPTER ONE
  5. CHAPTER TWO
  6. CHAPTER THREE
  7. CHAPTER FOUR
  8. CHAPTER FIVE
  9. CHAPTER SIX
  10. CHAPTER SEVEN
  11. CHAPTER EIGHT
  12. CHAPTER NINE
  13. CHAPTER TEN
  14. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  15. CHAPTER TWELVE
  16. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  17. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  19. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  21. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  22. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  43. CHAPTER FORTY
  44. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  45. EPILOGUE

“Petrov’s using Skye as leverage to make sure I stay in line. He’s taken her to his estate north of the city—which sits on two acres and is worth boo-coo millions.”

“At least she’ll have decent accommodations,” Trace drawled, a touch of humor in his voice.

“I should have seen this coming,” Edge said, in no mood for jokes. “I should have left her out of it.”

“We all know that wasn’t an option, so forget it,” Trace said.

“What we need to do now,” Conn added, “is focus on getting my sister out of the house before the DEA goes in after Petrov.”

“I’ve got an idea how we can do that,” Edge said. “How soon can you guys get here?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

THE WHITE GMC PANEL VAN ROLLED DOWN INTERSTATE 15, HEADING south out of Las Vegas. A big guy named Riggins was driving, while the other man, Ketch, small, homely, with curly blond hair, rode shotgun. Edge and Dutch sat in the rear passenger seats.

“So where are we headed?” Edge asked. The mini voice-activated recorder was broadcasting from the bottom of the inside coat pocket of a lightweight black jacket. Dutch had taken Edge’s Beretta with the promise to return it when the op was over.

Edge wasn’t worried about the gun. He could disarm all three men and, should the need arise, permanently end the threat they posed. For now, he just needed information.

Turning a little in his seat, he spoke to Dutch, praying the hum of the engine wouldn’t muffle the conversation being transmitted to the DEA.

“Okay, so we’re on the road,” he said. “Where are we headed, and how long until we get there?”

Dutch shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. We’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

Edge frowned. “Half an hour? You said the load was coming into Long Beach. I figured we were going somewhere in California.”

“We are. Sort of. The meet is at a Flying J truck stop in Primm. You know, the state line? More than sixty thousand vehicles a day go through there. God knows how many are eighteen-wheelers.”

“So we just blend in with everyone else passing through,” Edge said. “Like hiding in plain sight.”

“Yeah. Like that.”

Edge knew the area, a truckers’ paradise. Whiskey Pete’s casino. Buffalo Bill’s. The place was swarming with cars, big rigs, and tourists. Good for the bad guys. Not so good for the DEA. With that many folks around, people could get hurt.

He settled back in his seat. Less than an hour from now, the takedown would be over. He thought of Skye and knew she would be prepared for whatever went down tonight. She had her weapon. She had her smarts. And she had two good men set to go in after her.