And then her arms were full of a little boy.

Madonna, it was Aric, trembling like a leaf.

She hugged him hard even as fear for him tore holes in her heart.

Silently, Hawk crept around the van to where the other guard should be. The one who’d thumped on the van.

A body lay on the ground, unmoving…with a matte black knife in his back.

Caz was here.

Hawk glanced around, seeing an area of taller brush. Probably there.

With a grim smile, Hawk turned his head and winced as his headache increased. Farther down the road, two guards stood between the van and the Hermitage.

Near Gabe’s house, Nabera was still shouting at Bull and Kit.

Dammit, Kit. His gut clenched.

First things first. Those two guards were far enough away that Aric and Frankie should be able to reach Caz without being seen.

His eyes narrowed. Just how the hell had Aric gotten out of the Hermitage anyway? Caz sure wouldn’t have brought him.

Someone else might, though.

Frowning, Hawk spotted a jack-knife sticking out of the dead guard’s leg. Someone else, indeed.

Bending, Hawk spoke softly. “C’mon out, Regan.”

After a second, she appeared, taking his hand to stand up. Flinging her arms around him, she buried her face against his side.

Yeah, Caz had an incredibly lovable, incredibly brave kid.

Holding the AR-15 off to one side, Hawk bent and whispered in her hair. “You did great, Regan. But time to leave. Take Aric and Frankie to your dad. I got this now. Yeah?”

Her head moved up and down.

Caz would intercept them and guide them back. Protect them on the way.

Arm around Regan, Hawk moved to the back of the van. With a happy gasp, Regan grabbed Frankie.

Setting the rifle in the van, Hawk picked Aric up for a hug and a quick whisper. “Thanks for the rescue, buddy.” Fuck, he loved these kids.

Man up, Calhoun. After putting the boy down, Hawk whispered to them, “Stay crouched and go there.” He pointed where he estimated Caz was and a route where the van would mostly block them from the sight of the PZs

Aric signaled okay, and the three moved off.

Hawk stayed on guard until they disappeared into the taller foliage.

Still talking to Kit and Bull, Nabera sounded increasingly frustrated. Yeah, the bastard was going to snap. And when he did, he’d pull his fucking pistol and start shooting.

Hawk checked the AR-15’s magazine, pleased it had a full load. Bringing it up into firing position, he winced. His arms were less than optimal after being wrenched behind his back for so long. His aim would be crap.

Where was a tripod when he needed one?

His eyes narrowed as he studied the van. Yeah, the roof would provide adequate arm support.