Terminal Vendetta (A Diana Weick Thriller Book 3) by Cate Clarke (book suggestions .txt) 📕

“Just on time,” Amber whispered. “You saved them.”

And just as he did, the UCAV made a deft 180-degree turn, missiles hanging out the bottom and whizzing over both of their heads. One hit the base of the front lawn; the other hit the foundation of the safe house. More explosions. More fire and smoke.

Hoagland and the woman sprinted out of its range, ducking behind the neighbor’s house.

They continued after Zabójca but he’d widened the distance between them, his bald head just a beige spot against the black stone pathway that weaved in and out of this community. Diana brought the sniper rifle up to her shoulder, crouching down and adjusting the scope to get a shot. The UCAV landed on the path.

“Somebody’s gotta be piloting it,” Diana said to Amber as she lined up the crosshairs and took a shot. She saw it first, heard it second—the ping off the UCAV’s wing.

“He could be anywhere,” Amber said, crouching down next to her, staying out of the way.

“Check the houses,” Diana stated, not taking her eyes off the scope.

Zabójca climbed onto the UCAV, keeping his body on the opposite side of the matte-gray body of the plane. It wasn’t meant for passengers but if he could hold on long enough to get him over the mountains that was all he needed. Diana took another shot, aiming for Zabójca's fingers.

That one hit.

A spray of red spurted up into the air as Zabójca scrambled with his other hand, managing to get a grip with one arm. He tucked the bleeding hand into his coat as the UCAV took off into the air. It was too fast. Zabójca, only a blur on its back.

The sniper rifle dropped. Diana shook her head.

“Fuck!” she screamed into the air.

Behind her, piles and piles of flames and black smoke rose into the clear day between the rocky sides of the low mountains. Amber was running from house to house, gun in front of him, checking for the drone pilot, but Asher could very well be miles away, operating from a tablet. These UCAVs were the type of technology that Diana hated. It took out every bit of warfare and replaced it with a computer screen. No matter how good of a shot she was or how hard she punched, she could never outdo or outrun a machine like that.

At least, there was one thing that Zabójca had left behind—David.

Diana climbed her way back up the rocky outcrop, Amber joining her after checking the houses to no avail other than screaming residents. She flipped David over on his back, and he groaned with pain, a pool of blood making its way out of the hole in his spine and in his chest.

With trained hands, they saved him. And Diana knew, this man was truly her enemy in every way, but it felt good to save someone. She hadn’t been able to prevent the deaths of so many of her loved ones. Maybe it was some type of cruel divine intervention—that she was only able to save her adversaries.

They propped David up in the trunk of the rented car. They’d improvised, using seat belts and jumper cables to keep him tied up. Mountains on one side and an expansive field on the other, they were almost completely alone. It was possible that Zabójca and Asher were still around. The Jeep that had been parked ahead of them on the gravel road was gone, but the UCAV was fast and stealthy—it could drop down on them at any moment.

“Hey.” Amber patted David on the cheek. “Don’t pass out.”

He groaned, sunburnt freckled face lolling into his chest.

“First question,” Amber started, standing at the edge of the open trunk with his arms crossed. “Why are you with the Readers if you’re a Scot?”

Diana looked at him and asked, “That’s what you want to know?”

“It’s dodgy.”

Amber didn’t take his eyes off David, trying to adjust himself against the back of the car but his legs unable to move. The bullet in his spine had either temporarily or permanently paralyzed him. He had Zabójca to thank for that one.

“I served in the United States military,” David mustered, coughing. “To get citizenship.”

“A veteran nonetheless,” Diana said.

His brown eyes flickered over to her as if realizing that she was there. A soft grin came across his face but fell quickly as he winced with pain.

“I can’t sit like this,” David said. “My back.”

“Yeah. You’re pretty much fucked,” Diana replied. “So you may as well tell us everything.”

“I don’t have anything to hide from ya, hen.”

“Why Hoagland?”

“Because he’s a fucking arse.”

“And?”

His head dropped again, and Amber gave him another slap—this time with the back of his hand. Overhead, a hawk circled the field, searching for a lemming to snatch up. Its figure-eights were methodical and deadly, wings slicing through the clean air, paying them no mind unless they were to interrupt its meal.

“And?” Diana repeated.

David hacked out several coughs before saying, “Because he’s in line for the vacant position with the V—” More coughs. “VBA.”

Amber looked at Diana, raising one eyebrow and scratching at his groomed stubble.

“Veteran Benefits Administration,” Diana explained.

Amber nodded.

“Why don’t you want him in that position?” Diana asked, crossing her arms like Amber, leaning in closer to the back of the car.

“I told ye…” David exhaled hard. “Because he’s an arse.”

“That’s it?”

“He makes things much more difficult for your friend…”

“My friend?”

“One with all the leather? Texas bloke?”

“Laird?” Diana shook her head. “What the hell does he have to—”

She stopped herself. Laird had been one of the few to survive Ratanake’s funeral. Had it been because he’d known about the attack? That he was working for the Readers all this time? Her fist and jaw clenched simultaneously. He had been with her son, her daughter, with Ratanake, moments before he’d been shot by that sniper at Vauxhall Court. Maybe, Laird had been the one to let Zabójca inside. Another member—the only remaining one—of her SEAL team turned to