He dodged two bullets while he dragged Ned farther behind the timbers. He sprayed a barrage of bullets at the trees before starting work to stop the bleeding. There wasn't much, thank God. Ned lay still, only whimpering occasionally. Marrok didn't think the wound was terminal, but he couldn't tell in the darkness. Anger exploded through him.

Come after me, you son of a bitch. Let me have my chance at you.

Shoot my dog? I'll tear your heart out.

But he could hear voices coming from the direction of the rescue site on the other side of the mountain. Someone had heard the shots, dammit. He wasn't going to get his opportunity to make the kill. The shooter wouldn't risk going after him and exposing himself to awkward questions. Danner didn't like questions.

He stroked Ned's head. "It's going to be okay. We'll get you fixed up. There's almost always a vet on these mercy missions." He glanced at the trees from where the bullet had come. It was only a postponement. The shooter wouldn't give up. He'd stick around and wait for another opportunity to take them out. Danner disliked failure almost as much as he did questions. "And then I promise I'll make sure that bastard never has another go at you."

SHIT.

Kingston lowered his Remington, slid down the trunk of the palm tree, and sprinted back into the woods. He'd go back and cover his tracks later. He wasn't worried about the locals hunting him down. Marrok was the threat. Kingston had read every word of the report Danner had given him on the man who called himself Jude Marrok, and some of it was very impressive.

His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and checked the ID. Danner.

Dammit, he was tempted to ignore it. He didn't want to have to give explanations right now. But he couldn't ignore a man who wielded as much power as Raymond Danner.