Ned was no longer beside him. He was running across the rubble, his lean midnight-black body taut with eagerness. He had caught another scent, Marrok realized, and he was following it with reckless speed. It seemed the dog wasn't ready to obey him, he thought ruefully. It wasn't surprising since their relationship was that of close friends rather than master and canine. They had long ago passed that point. "Okay, we'll go your way for a while." He took off after Ned. "But you'd better be right this time. I can't spend all night comforting you." But he knew he'd do precisely that. You didn't question when a friend was in need. He'd almost caught up with Ned, and the Lab was staring at him hopefully. "Let's make a deal." He started to bend to shift the debris. "If we don't find anyone this time, you give it up and do it my-"

A whistle of sound streaked by his cheek.

Ned cried out and fell to the ground, blood pouring from his side.

A bullet, dammit.

Marrok fell sideways, grabbed Ned's collar, and rolled with him behind the ruin of the house.

Another bullet splintered the timber next to Marrok as he pulled out his gun. It had come from the direction of the trees to the south of the site. Not the military. They would have questioned him before shooting at him. That Red Cross on Ned's halter would have required it. His gaze searched the trees as he moved to the side.

Another bullet.

One shooter and determined to make the kill.

Danner? Maybe. God, he'd hoped he'd sidetracked them in Morocco, but they must have uncovered his trail. The solution was the same as always. Kill the shooter. Disappear. It would take time for them to send someone else on his trail. But he couldn't leave Ned. The Lab was hurt and bleeding. He couldn't take time to go after the shooter. Not now. He had to stop Ned's bleeding and get him help.