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“Got it? Any sign of trouble, and the kids die. See if you can find another approach. Stay way, way out of sight. I don’t want anyone on the scene unless there’s gunfire, and then get there fast. Forget about me—just call for an ambulance and get to those kids.” He repeated the directions, grabbed his car keys from the counter.
Then he stepped out into the night.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alvarez checked his watch, then continued to scan the horizon below for any sign of approaching headlights.
He’d picked the perfect location. No one could approach from any direction without being seen, and he had a good view of the highway leading into Fossil Hill—at least three miles of it. If anyone followed Zach as a backup, they’d never think to cut their lights so far away.
The sound of renewed whimpering from the back seat of the car set his teeth on edge. He’d bound the kids and left them there as insurance in case things went wrong.
But the little girl’s endless crying had been driving him crazy. Even with duct tape over her mouth, he could still hear her whine. The boy’s coldly defiant expression made him nervous.
He was stuck with them until this was over. Once Forrester was dead, the brats could be disposed of and he could go home in peace with the honor he’d craved every last minute he’d spent in prison, thanks to Tony DiMarco. Maybe he’d changed his name to Forrester, but that hadn’t kept him safe. Not with El Cazador on his trail.
With a short laugh over the hero’s nickname he’d given himself, Alvarez paced back and forth behind the car. He fingered the trigger of the semiautomatic in his hand, resenting the cold sweat that made the metal feel slippery. The sweat didn’t mean he couldn’t do this. His entire future depended on pulling the trigger with perfect aim.
And no one, especially not some two-bit traitor from Dallas, was going to rob him of all that awaited him when he returned.
He had all the account numbers.
He had the right contacts.
And with his skills at management, the family operation would soon—
Tiny headlights appeared over the horizon. Coming slow. This would be Forrester, watching for his turn-off. Maybe, Alvarez thought with a smile, he was wondering if these moments would be his last. With luck, maybe he would even plead for his life.
The headlights crept onward, then turned onto the dirt road. Alvarez lost sight of the vehicle several times, as it traveled slowly over the gradually rising hills.
He released the safety on the gun in his hand and stepped behind the hood of his car.
The SUV’s lights blinded him for a moment as they crested the hill, then they swung away, and the vehicle came to a halt with the passenger side facing Alvarez. Forrester turned off the lights.
Smart move, but it wouldn’t save him.
The car door swung open and Forrester stepped out, leaving the door slightly ajar, just enough to cut the interior lights. Did he think he would be escaping?
