the target. It was a Chevy work van. The big, long-wheelbase model. White and anonymous. He heard one of its doors clang shut and saw one of the men stepping toward the back of the van. The others were out of sight behind it. Matt moved in closer, sucked in a deep breath, and rose just enough to clear the roof of the car in front of him, gripping his handgun in a two-handed stance, ready to pump a couple of silenced bullets into Maddox’s men—but there was no one there. They were gone. His nerves bristled as he swept his gun left and right, his eyes and ears at Defcon five—then he heard a rustle off to the right, in the trees beyond the van, and saw a shooter emerge, pulling Rydell along with him, a silenced handgun pressed against the billionnaire’s temple.
Matt flinched, unsure about what to do—just as something hard nudged him in the back.
“Drop it,” the voice said. “Nice and slow.”
Matt’s heart cratered. They’d been expected. For a split second, the notion of making a move sparked in his mind, but the guy behind him cut it short with a sudden, hard punch to Matt’s ear that sent him down to his knees. He dropped his gun, and his vision went blurry. He stayed down for a moment, waiting for it to settle, and through his bleary veil, he glimpsed the vague outline of someone climbing out of the back of the van. It was Maddox, and—he wasn’t alone. He was dragging someone out of the van with him, yanking him by the neck, a handgun pressed against it.
Matt squinted, straining to cut through the fog in his head, but even before it lifted, the recognition was instant.
It was Danny.
He was there. He was actually there.
And very much alive.
Matt’s insides cartwheeled. He pushed himself to his feet, and the adrenaline boost coursing through him brought Danny’s face racing into focus. He gave Matt a pained smile. Matt nodded back and couldn’t suppress a broad smile, even though things weren’t looking too promising for them.
Maddox acknowledged Matt’s presence with a shrug, but his eyes registered genuine surprise when he saw Rydell.
“Well, what do you know,” he quipped, clearly pleased with the unexpected presence of the tycoon. “And people say there is no Santa.”
GRACIE FLARED. “What are they doing?”
The image on the laptop’s screen showed the two figures they knew to be Rydell and Matt putting their guns down and stepping back from the van in defeat. Seconds later, two other figures appeared from the van, tightly bunched, one behind the other.
“Is that a gun?” she asked, fear catching in her throat.
“Hang on,” Dalton said. He fingered the joysticks expertly and brought the Draganflyer down slightly closer for a better look.
The top view of Maddox’s extended arm grew bigger on the screen. And there was no mistaking the gun that was staring Matt and Rydell in the face.
DANNY GRUNTED against Maddox’s tight hold. “I’m sorry, bro,” he told Matt. “I couldn’t warn you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He saw that Danny’s hands were tied together with plastic flex cuffs.
Danny glared at Rydell. “What’s he doing here?” he asked Matt.
“His penance,” Matt replied flatly.
Danny shook his head sardonically. His stare burned into Rydell. “Too little, too late, don’t you think? Or do you also have the power to raise the dead?”
Rydell kept quiet.
Maddox swung his right arm straight out, flicking his handgun in a horizontal arc from Matt to Rydell and back.
“Sorry to have to cut this happy reunion short, boys,” he said tersely, “but we’ve got to get going. So how about you say good-bye to your pain-in-the-ass brother one last time, Danny-boy.” He settled his gun sight on Matt and gave him a curious, almost respectful nod. “It’s been good knowing you, kid. You did really well.”
“Not well enough,” Matt retorted gruffly.
“No, believe me, you did real well,” he insisted.
Maddox raised the gun a couple of inches for a head shot, no emotion whatsoever registering on his face. Matt’s heart stopped at the thought of a bullet shredding into him—then Maddox whipped back as something slammed into him from out of nowhere, something big and black that rocketed out of the night sky with a stealthy whoosh and batted his arm off savagely to one side. His gun went flying off as Maddox howled, the chopper’s carbon fiber blades slicing through skin and muscle, and he fell to the ground in a burst of dark blood.