Zack accelerated and cut the distance in half as he realized that the helicopter had begun to descend. The Explorer covered the remaining distance, and Zack slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding across the pavement toward the spot Griffin’s SUV had left the road. “Ignore them. They’re either with us, or they’ll kill us. Either way, Griffin Huntsmen dies right now.”

Nick exhaled and nodded. “Okay, then. Happy hunting, big brother. I’ve got the Irish sonofabitch.” The vehicle slid to a stop, and both men jerked forward with the sudden deceleration. “One more thing—I love you, man. Good luck.”

“You too,” Zack said, and both men bailed out of the car as if they were fugitives fleeing the police, not hunting domestic terrorists in the early hours of a Saturday morning.

The wind howled as if in rebellion, and the rotor wash from the Huey added to the environmental chaos, whipping up leaves and gravel from the street and sidewalk in big swirls.

Zack had drawn the Glock, the suppressor still attached to the barrel, and jogged toward the edge of the street. He glanced at the helicopter and saw that two men in black tactical gear, including balaclavas that covered their faces, had stepped out of the open cargo section and were watching him, black assault rifles in hand but not pointed at him. Screw it. They can join the adventure later, Zack thought. Nick was less than ten feet away, a Glock in his hands, and Zack nodded at him. The Chambers brothers shuffled forward and looked into the ditch.

From his vantage point, Zack saw that the driver’s door was wide open, which meant that Barrett Connolly had already escaped the ruined vehicle. “Barrett’s gone. Must be in the woods, running.”

“You better get over here, brother,” Nick said urgently.

Zack hurried over and saw the source of Nick’s concern. Griffin Huntsmen sat on the ground with his back against the bottom of the doorframe, the door hanging open like a book cover. His head was slumped forward, and blood had soaked the shirt on his right arm. His right hand was empty, but his left lay concealed on the other side of his body.

“I got this. How do you feel about a walk in the woods?” Zack asked his brother, the Glock trained on Griffin as he spoke.

“See you soon,” Nick said, and bounded down the ditch into the woods as if he belonged with the deer and foxes that inhabited them. Within seconds, the sounds of breaking brush had disappeared, overshadowed by the roar of the rotors. Zack didn’t know what the men in the helicopter had planned, and he didn’t care. The man before him was his only priority.