his pistol. “This way. It’s faster.” It was also steeper, but worth the risk.
They went down the ledge on the right side. Not an easy task with only one hand. With the other, he held his pistol and alternated watching the base, the man, and the slope they were going down. Not that he could really do anything if his horse slipped. It seemed like slow going because they were having to practically stand in the saddle and lean back. Marcus was going to pay for all that muscle contraction tomorrow with his hip.
Bannon was a good rider and kept pace right behind him. When they made it to a level area, Marcus put his heels to his horse, reveling in the feel of the wind in his face and the adrenaline pumping through him. He could still see the base clearly from this angle, so he was not worried about an ambush. And there was still no movement outside—though there also was no longer shouting and flashes of light coming from the open door of the base. And he really didn’t want to think about that.
They made it to the man just as he was coming to. Bannon slid off his horse, and Marcus turned his rifle on the man. But unlike Bannon, he did not set his to stun. He would take no chances with Bannon’s life.
The man wobbled a bit but dragged himself to a sitting position. “Bloody hell, that hurts.”
Motioning with his rifle, Marcus indicated Bannon should stay back. The man had made no moves, but Marcus did not recognize the plaid, therefore he could not judge whether the man was friend or foe. The man was older, though his body was not in the least feeble. He looked as though he had not missed many meals until of late. His skin was a bit saggy, and up close the white of his hair and beard was obvious. More importantly, Bannon was right; there was something vaguely familiar about him.
Finally the man sat and glanced up at Marcus. He slowly raised his hands. Smart man.
“Who are—”
“Lord Bannon?” The man had turned his attention to Bannon, who now also held his fragger pistol at the ready.
The voice sent a shiver right down Marcus’s spine. It was a voice he’d never thought to hear again, and it belonged to a man he’d just as soon kill than look at. His finger itched to squeeze the trigger. He stared at the man who’d abandoned him here and taken his life and his son from him. The rest of his surroundings disappeared, and all he could see was Admiral Carl Jenkins.
“Marcus….” Something touched his leg.
He glanced down into Bannon’s worried eyes.
“Please don’t kill him. We need to talk to him.” Bannon’s voice was soft and gentle, his poise amazing for one so young, but most of all, he was being logical. Much more logical than Marcus at the moment.
Marcus nodded but did not lower his weapon.
Jenkins was staring at him now. “Marcus,” he whispered.
“Admiral, what are you doing here?” Bannon’s voice was stronger now, full of demand. He would have made Eversleigh proud.
Jenkins swallowed, looking much older now that Marcus recognized him. The man had not aged well. “I came to find Winstol here.” He bobbed his head at Marcus. “I came to bring him and the lieutenant commander home.”
Could it be true? Marcus shook his head, not willing to believe it. This man was a traitor. “Do you have any weapons on you, Admiral?”
Jenkins nodded. “A fragger in my saddlebag along with a mini satellite and a com-con.”
“Bannon, check it out.”
Bannon nodded and walked toward the horse.
“Other side of the horse,” Jenkins said.
Changing directions, Bannon walked way around Jenkins, keeping his distance. Just as he got to the other side and reached for the saddlebag, shouts came from the base.
All the warriors flooded out of the door, some of them carrying other men. It sounded as if they were victorious.
Marcus jerked his gaze back to Jenkins. He flipped the switch on his fragger to stun. “Bannon, what’s going on?”
Bannon abandoned his course toward the saddlebag and headed out into the clearing.
Bloody hell! Marcus’s heart stopped. He couldn’t look, he had to keep watch on Jenkins. The hell with it! He shot Jenkins with the stun bolt, then looked out of the tree line as Jenkins blacked out again. His gaze landed on Patrick, walking toward them, and the breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. Oh, thank galaxy. It