Get in position for another shot. Fast. If that pilot gained altitude, he’d have a clear shot of anyone on the ground below him.

He was already ten feet off the ground when Cameron reached a boulder and rested his rifle on the surface and aimed at the helicopter.

Fifteen feet.

He aimed five feet above his actual target.

Gas tank. Take out the gas tank.

The pilot swiveled the aircraft around, spoiling the shot.

Aim again.

Now.

He pressed the trigger.

The helicopter exploded into a fiery ball as the gas tank blew.

Cameron moved to the edge of the plateau and watched as the flaming remnants of the aircraft fell out of the sky to the valley below.

Nagoles groaned on the ground behind him.

Cameron turned and looked at him.

Bleeding. Snarling. Trying to crawl to reach his rifle.

Conscious enough to want to kill.

Therefore, he should be conscious enough for Cameron’s purpose.

Before he made sure that the bastard was never a threat to either Erin or Catherine again.

“Hello, Nagoles, I’m Cameron.” He squatted next to Nagoles and shoved the man’s rifle farther out of his reach. “We have to have a chat. You need to pay close attention, because I have a terrible temper, and that could bring you intense pain…”

*   *   *

“The shooter’s name is Nagoles,” Catherine told Venable as soon as he picked up. “Cameron’s men tracked him down. And he’s freelance, not one of Santos’s usual goons. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have information that I can use.” She added in frustration, “If Cameron will give me the chance to get it out of him.”

“Cameron?” Venable wasn’t pleased. “Where is he? I’ll send agents to intercept him and make sure we get our hands on Nagoles.”

“Fat chance. Cameron is being protective, which means that Nagoles is a dead man. I just hope that he deigns to get me some of the information that I need before he sends Nagoles to hell.”

“Where is he?” Venable repeated.

“Tibet. Don’t send anyone near him. You know that Cameron and the CIA have been dancing around each other for months. You don’t want a confrontation with him unless it’s over something important to global security. Not about some drug dealer trying to take an agent out.”

“I’ll do what I please, Catherine. We want Santos back in custody on a charge that will stick. Or we want him dead. You’re important to us, but there are other motivations. Once Santos is finished with revenging himself on you, he’ll turn his attention to rebuilding the empire we tore down. So Cameron can keep his hands off anything to do with Santos, or I’ll have to take him down.”

“Good luck.” She hung up.

The last thing she wanted was for Venable to go after Cameron. As she’d said, so far their encounters with Cameron and the committee had been glancing blows, not worth extending their full strength. He was more a figure of mystery, an enigma, than an enemy. But that could change in a heartbeat, and where would that leave her?

Why was she even questioning? She was an agent, and she would do her duty and go after Cameron if given the command.

But the order hadn’t been given, and she’d let Cameron deal with his own problems. God knows, she had enough to worry about at the moment. She would lie here and rest and try to sleep.

And hope that Cameron would call her back and tell her that Nagoles had given him a hint where she could find Santos.

She would not think of what she’d felt when she’d first seen him in that cave. The shock, the erotic sensation that had electrified every muscle, the searing memory of the ways he had touched, probed, rubbed—

And she was doing exactly what she had sworn she would not do.

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Relax. Cameron was being Cameron, and that meant totally his own person, stubborn, and unpredictable. Both his men and the committee under whom he worked regarded him more as crown prince than Guardian of the project. Which also meant he was arrogant as hell.

But she didn’t have to accept that arrogance. She didn’t have to accept anything about the man.

She closed her eyes.

Go away, Cameron. I’m through with you for tonight.

*   *   *

“There’s been a problem.” Manuel Dorgal hung up the phone. “The helicopter we sent to get Nagoles crashed as he was attempting the pickup. According to the villagers in the area, they think it was shot down.”

“What?” Santos’s hand clenched on his glass. “Nagoles?”

“We don’t know if he was on board or not. There wasn’t much left of anything on the helicopter. Cinders. Nothing but cinders. We know Nagoles hasn’t surfaced anywhere in the area. We haven’t been able to reach him.”

“And we don’t know who shot it down?”

Dorgal shook his head. “No word on the grapevine. Nagoles was our only contact in the area, and he’s disappeared. Maybe CIA? We know that Sullivan was taken away by a CIA agent. It would make sense.” He frowned. “Though I don’t know how they’d manage to get more agents there so soon to track Nagoles.”

“Find out,” Santos said grimly. “And find out whether Nagoles is dead or not. If he’s not, kill him. He’s been targeted, and I can’t afford for him to be forced to answer questions.”

“He doesn’t know that much. You kept him out of the loop after you went to prison.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he asked harshly. “But Ling is clever. She might be able to tap something, anything, that would give her a hint about where to find me.”

“There’s a solution. You could take her out right now. All you have to do is toss an explosive through a window of her house, and everyone is dead.”

“And admit that I had to hurry the bitch’s death because she’s getting closer to me? Would Delores understand that I stopped short of total victory over the woman who killed her? That I stopped before I could wring every bit of mental and physical pain from Ling?”

“Death is a pretty awesome victory. Delores is dead. You can’t—” Dorgal stopped as he met Santos’s eyes. He forced a smile. “You’re right, of course. We’ll work around the problem. I’ll locate Nagoles or whoever took him down.”

“Yes, you will.” His gaze lifted to the portrait of Delores over the fireplace. “But this is the second time Ling managed to block me. I have to move quickly to make sure that she gets no satisfaction from it.” He reached for his phone, his gaze still on Delores’s smiling face in the portrait. “Which one shall it be?” he whispered. “Which one, Delores?”

*   *   *

“What the hell do you mean by going to Joe and not directly to me?” Eve Duncan demanded when Catherine picked up her call the next morning. “Not good, Catherine.”

“Sorry. I had to make a decision on how to protect you as quickly as possible. Joe was my answer.”

“Not a good answer. Though I admit that he’s notified everyone who has a stake in keeping me alive, and they’re rallying around me. But that’s me, not you. This is all about you. You risked your butt to save my life not long ago. Yet you think I’m going hide out in this lake cottage while some drug king tries to kill you?”

“I’m hoping you will. I’m not first on his agenda. Santos is going to go after the people I care about first.” She sighed. “Think of yourself as bait. Joe can spring a trap and save you and me at the same time. Does that work for you?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think it would. But there’s still value in the idea. Talk to Joe about it.” She added firmly, “Because it’s all you can do for me. Stay where you are. I’m not letting anyone who might be a target near me. Santos would love to kill someone I care about in front of me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing some research on him. He’s a nasty piece of work.” She paused. “Is Hu Chang with you?”

“Not right now. He’s trying to stave off Erin Sullivan from doing the same thing that you want to do. She’s flying here from Hong Kong.” She paused. “And she’s already been wounded. Apparently, she was next on Santos’s list.”