The Complete Mackenzies Collection Read online



  His head swiveled restlessly as he tried to keep watch in all directions. The minutes trickled past. The sun slid below the horizon, but there was still plenty of light; twilight wouldn’t begin deepening for another fifteen, twenty minutes. The darker it was, the more Zane was in his element. By now, he should have taken out at least one, maybe two—

  A man stepped out from behind the tree under which Chance and Sunny had intended to have their picnic and aimed a black 9mm automatic at Sunny’s head. He didn’t say “Drop it” or anything else. He just smiled, his gaze locked with Chance’s.

  Carefully Chance placed his pistol on the grass. If the gun had been aimed at his own head, he would have taken the risk that his reflexes were faster. He wouldn’t risk Sunny’s life. As soon as he moved his hand away from the pistol, the black hole in the man’s weapon centered between his eyes.

  “Surprised?” the man asked softly. At his voice Sunny gasped and whirled, her feet sliding on the slippery creek bottom. Chance reached out and steadied her without taking his gaze from a man he knew very well.

  “Not really,” he said. “I knew there was someone.”

  Sunny looked back and forth between them. “Do you know him?” she asked faintly.

  “Yeah.” He should have been prepared for this, he thought. Knowing one of his own men was involved, he should have realized the traitor would have the skill to approach silently, using the same tree that helped shield them as his own cover. Doing so took patience and nerve, because if Chance had happened to move even a few inches to one side, he would have seen the man’s approach.

  “H-how?” she stammered.

  “We’ve worked together for years,” Melvin Darnell said, still smiling. Mel the Man. That was what the others called him, because he would volunteer for any mission, no matter how dangerous. What better way to get inside information? Chance thought.

  “You sold out to Hauer,” Chance said, shaking his head. “That’s low.”

  “No, that’s lucrative. He has men everywhere. The FBI, the Justice Department, the CIA…even here, right under your nose.” Mel shrugged. “What can I say? He pays well.”

  “I misjudged you. I never thought you’d be the type to get a kick out of torture. Or are you chickening out and leaving as soon as he gets his hands on her?” Chance nodded his head toward Sunny.

  “Nice try, Mackenzie, but it won’t work. He’s her father. All he wants is his little girl.” Mel smirked at Sunny.

  Chance snorted. “Get a clue. Do you think she’d be so terrified if all he wanted was to get to know her?”

  Mel spared another brief glance in her direction. She was absolutely colorless, even her lips. There was no mistaking her fear. He shrugged. “So I was wrong. I don’t care what he does with her.”

  “Do you care that he’s a child molester?” Keep him talking. Buy time. Give Zane time to work.

  “Give it up,” Mel said cheerfully. “He could be Hitler’s reincarnation and it still wouldn’t change the color of his money. If you think I’m going to develop a conscience—well, you’re the one who needs to get a clue.”

  There was movement behind Mel. Three men approaching, walking openly now, as if they had nothing to fear. Two were dressed in suits, one in slacks and an open-necked shirt. The one in slacks and one of the suits carried hand guns. The suit would be the FBI informant, the one in slacks one of Hauer’s bloodhounds. The man in the middle, the one wearing the double-breasted Italian silk suit, his skin tanned, his light brown hair brushed straight back—that was Hauer. He was smiling.

  “My dear,” he said jovially when he reached them. He stepped carefully around the spilled beets, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “It is so good to finally meet you. A father should know his children, don’t you think?”

  Sunny didn’t speak for a moment. She stared at her father with unconcealed horror and loathing. Beside her, Chance felt the fear drain out of her, felt her subtly relax. Extreme terror was like that, sometimes. When one feared that something would happen, it was the dread and anxiety, the anticipation, that was so crippling. Once the thing actually happened, there was nothing left to fear. He took a firm grip on her arm, wishing she had remained petrified. Sunny was valiant enough when she was frightened; when she thought she had nothing left to lose, there was no telling what she would do.

  “I thought you’d be taller,” she finally said, looking at him rather dismissively.

  Crispin Hauer flushed angrily. He wasn’t a large man, about five-eight, and slender. The two men flanking him were both taller. Chance wondered how Sunny had known unerringly how to prick his ego. “Please get out of the mud—if you can bring yourself to leave your lover’s side, that is. I recommend it. Head shots can be nasty. You wouldn’t want his brains on you, would you? I hear the stain never comes out of one’s clothes.”

  Sunny didn’t move. “I don’t know where Margreta is,” she said. “You might as well kill me now, because I can’t tell you anything.”

  He shook his head in mock sympathy. “As if I believe that.” He held out his hand. “You may climb out by yourself, or my men will assist you.”

  There wasn’t much light left, Chance thought. If Sunny could keep delaying her father without provoking him into violence, Zane should be here soon. With Hauer out in the open, Zane must be positioning himself so he could get all four men in his sights.

  “Where’s the other guy?” he asked, to distract them. “There are five of you, aren’t there?”

  The FBI man and the bloodhound looked around, in the direction of the trees on the opposite side of the road. They seemed vaguely surprised that no one was behind them.

  Mel didn’t take his attention from Chance. “Don’t let him spook you,” he said sharply. “Keep your mind on business.”

  “Don’t you wonder where he is?” Chance asked softly.

  “I don’t give a damn. He’s nothing to me. Maybe he fell out of the tree and broke his neck,” Mel said.

  “Enough,” Hauer said, distaste for this squabbling evident in his tone. “Sonia, come out now. I promise you won’t like it if my men have to fetch you.”

  Sunny’s contemptuous gaze swept him from head to foot. Unbelievably, she began singing. And the ditty she sang was a cruel little song of the sort gradeschoolers sang to make fun of a classmate they didn’t like. “Monkey man, monkey man, itty bitty monkey man. He’s so ugly, he’s so short, he needs a ladder to reach his butt.”

  It didn’t rhyme, Chance thought in stunned bemusement. Children, crude little beasts that they were, didn’t care about niceties such as that. All they cared about was the effectiveness of their taunt.

  It was effective beyond his wildest expectation.

  Mel Darnell smothered a laugh. The two other men froze, their expressions going carefully blank. Crispin Hauer flushed a dark, purplish red and his eyes bulged until white showed all around the irises. “You bitch!” he screamed, spittle flying, and he grabbed for the gun in the FBI mole’s hand.

  A giant red flower bloomed on Hauer’s chest, accompanied by a strange, dull splat. Hauer stopped as if he had run into a glass wall, his expression going blank.

  Mel had excellent reflexes, and excellent training. In that nanosecond before the sound of the shot reached them, Chance saw Mel’s finger begin tightening on the trigger, and he grabbed for his own weapon, knowing he wouldn’t be fast enough. Then Sunny hit him full force, her entire body crashing into him and knocking him sideways, her scream almost drowning out the thunderous boom of Mel’s big-caliber pistol. She clambered off him almost as fast as she had hit him, trying to scramble up the grassy bank to get to Mel before he could fire another round, but Mel never had another opportunity to pull the trigger. Mel never had anything else, not even a second, because Zane’s second shot took him dead center of the chest just as his first had taken Hauer.

  Then all hell broke loose. Chance’s men, finally back in position and with the threat to Chance and Sunny taken care of, opened fire on the remai