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fever.”
    The younger sister. “We’ll take care of it,” he promised.
    “How do I know I can trust you?”
    “You’re just going to have to make up your mind about it, honey. I’m here to help.”
    “You tied me up and drugged me.”
    “To keep you safe.”
    She managed to keep her eyes open long enough to pin him with a sharp look. “How do I know you’re not a murderous bastard like the others?”
    He said nothing. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t.
    She interpreted his silence correctly. “Don’t you have a conscience?”
    “I do.”
    She blinked. “Tell me one bad thing you regret doing.”
    “We’re not getting into that right now. We don’t have time for this.”
    “One thing,” she demanded.
    Fine. Okay. “I once led a team to eradicate a makeshift weapons factory in the Afghan mountains. Small place with an unpronounceable name. We called it North Village. Led the charge, shot the place to hell. We killed most everyone inside this one industrial-looking building. They were classified as enemy combatants in the attack order.” He drew a slow breath. “They weren’t. The village was starting some grassroots truck part repair business. Most of the men worked there. Now the village is nothing but orphans and widows.”
    He paused. “So no, I’m not a good person. But I no longer follow orders blindly either. And no more innocent people are going to get killed on my watch if I can help it.”
    She looked into his eyes for the longest time, doubts and desperation mixing in her Bourbon gaze. Then she nodded to the right. “That way.”
    The houses they passed were progressively worse and worse. They reached a ramshackle building at last and she insisted on being put down, slipped in through a broken window. He followed her in, the sight of garbage and scurrying rats getting to him for a second. Nobody should have to live in a place like this.
    “Up there.” She nodded toward a crumbling staircase.
    “I’ll go. Why don’t you stay down here? Rest a little.”
    “I can handle it.”
    He did believe that. She’d managed to escape from the roof. And, despite the inherent dangers, she had managed to get his attention and bring him here to help.
    “So up the stairs, huh?” He took in the dubious structure with a healthy dose of reservations. “Are you sure?”
    She stumbled forward without hesitation, and he followed a few steps behind her, far enough so their combined weight wouldn’t bring down the stairs, but close enough so he could catch her if she fell back. She didn’t. She reached the top and hurried down a dark hallway.
    She stopped in front of the last door. “It’s me. I’m bringing someone. Don’t shoot.”
    He went for his weapon but stopped halfway. The sight of a gun might provoke Tekla. Better leave his gun stashed under his shirt, Gabe decided. But he kept his hand ready to draw, not liking the least that Jasmine stood between him and the man inside.
    He glanced at his watch. They still had time before Brent would be here with the teams. Time to convince Tekla to send his family home to safety and give himself up, so nobody would have to die today. If he also wanted to tell Gabe what in hell his connection was to Brent, that would be icing on the cake.
    “Okay, we’re coming in,” Jasmine called out her last warning. But when she pushed the door open, they found the cavernous, ramshackle room empty.

Chapter Six

    Gabe looked closer at a suspicious lump of blanket on the floor among the stacks of wood and plastic crates and other rubble. The blanket rose and fell slightly then rose again as whoever hid under it breathed. Ambush , he thought, and drew his weapon.
    At the same time, Tekla stepped from a column to the side, holding a gun in his left hand. A homemade cast covered the right one. His eyes narrow slits, the man leaned his back against the wall behind him, barely resembling the charismatic hotshot he’d once been. His once chiseled cheeks were