Page 7 of Hunted

Gunn turned away, clenching his fists so hard he thought his fingers would break. He was the one who’d brought Dobe here, to Outlaw Ridge. He’d sent him on this mission, without enough backup. If he died…

The bounty hunter had to have the antidote on her somewhere—it would be crazy to carry the poison, otherwise. She must have planned to give it to Dobe after she’d captured him. But while Gunn was here with Dobe, his men had searched everything she owned, and they hadn’t found it.

At last report, she was still out cold, but she should be waking up soon. If they couldn’t get her to talk, he was going to have to go over to the interrogation room and do things that were against his so-called principles.

It wasn’t just Dobe’s life on the line. It was the mission, too—the fate of a helpless little girl. There was no way he could let some two-bit bounty hunter blow it all to hell.

Gunn’s phone rang, and he picked it up without even looking at who it was. “What?” he barked.

It Thanatos himself, Gunn’s boss, the shadowy, mysterious figure behind this whole operation. Everything—and everyone—at Outlaw Ridge belonged to him, one way or another.

Thanatos’s low, gravelly voice came on the line. “How is Harrelson?”

“Fucked up,” Gunn said bluntly. “Rex and I are trying to get the intel out of him, but he doesn’t even realize where he is or who we are. He thinks he’s in enemy hands, so he’s using his drug resistance training.”

Operatives were taught mental techniques for times when they were given drugs to lower their inhibitions and make them talk.

Thanatos knew the drill. His answer was straight out of every special ops manual ever: “If the enemy gives you disinhibiting drugs, fill your mind with anything they can’t use and just keep repeating it.”

“Yep. We’re up to the seven times table. And apparently, Dobe also knows all the words to the song ‘American Pie.’ The original, ten-minute version.”

Thanatos gave a snort that might almost have been a laugh, assuming he knew how to laugh. Which was a big assumption. But his next words were sobering. “I hope he’s not such a good operative that it kills him. Is the bounty hunter close to giving up the antidote?”

Somehow, he was keeping tabs on what was going on. Gunn really wished he knew which of the men reported to Thanatos behind his back.

Gunn said, “As of the last report, she was starting to regain consciousness. I’m on my way over there now.”

“That’s your easiest path,” Thanatos rumbled. “A typical bounty hunter will be an amateur compared to our team. She can’t be that hard to break.”

Gunn said, “You know how I feel about enhanced interrogation techniques.” It was an ongoing argument between them.

“What matters is the mission, Gunn. Lives are at stake.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to turn into monsters.”

Thanatos said coolly, “We are monsters. That’s how we do what we do. Don’t forget it.”

Gunn bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. He shouldn’t even be here, trying to be commander of Outlaw Ridge. He was an operative, and commanding a small ops team was in no way like trying to be the alpha of a pack that didn’t want him.

With his field team, it had never been a straight-up “I give orders and you follow them” setup. None of his guys had really done well with following orders.

Neither did Gunn.

And the Outlaw Ridge wolves totally sucked at it. It was one reason they were such a mess—collectively and individually.

Gunn longed for the good old days, when he went out in the field, ran a con or a stealth break-in or an extraction, maybe shot a few people, accomplished his mission and went home.

This was something he wasn’t prepared for, especially if Thanatos wasn’t going to set any boundaries on getting the job done. Nobody knew what the hell kind of creature Thanatos was, but Gunn was a wolf, and wolves—healthy wolves—didn’t play with their prey. They hunted and killed out of necessity—quick and clean.

He didn’t have the stomach for torture, and he knew it. But he had to get that antidote. Soon.

“Nine times ten is ninety. Nine times eleven is ninety-nine. Nine times twelve is a hundred and eight.” Dobe’s voice rose, and he was getting more restless, tossing from side to side.

Rex felt his forehead. “Fever’s rising,” he said. “He’s burning up.”

Gunn watched his friend—who put his life on the line all the time, and might die for it right here where he was supposed to be safe.

If Gunn didn’t do something soon, the other wolves were going to take that bounty hunter apart trying to get the intel.