down on the other side.
Mustang left the concealment of the tree and raced for the fence, vaulting over and landing on the other side. He immediately dropped to his belly on the ground.
A shot rang out.
The woman had managed to roll to the bottom of the ditch, get up and start running from the Russian.
Her attacker rose and pointed his weapon at her.
Mustang aimed and fired, hitting the man’s hand, knocking the gun from his grip.
Clutching his injured hand to his chest, the Russian ran for the dark sedan on the roadside.
Mustang glanced from the assailant to the woman. He wanted to stop the Russian from making another attempt on the woman’s life. But first he needed to ascertain what injuries the woman might have sustained. Headlights shone in the curve on the road above as the dark sedan sped away with the Russian inside. Meanwhile the woman hadn’t stopped. She kept running, tripping over bushes and bramble in the ditch. If she didn’t stop soon she’d injure herself even more.
“Mustang,” a man shouted. “You out there?”
Mustang breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Declan’s voice.
“Do you need help?” Declan called out.
“Call 9-1-1, get an ambulance out here.” Mustang didn’t wait for Declan’s response. He raced after the woman scrabbling through the ditch. Because of the recent rain the ditch contained pools of standing water and mushy soil.
The woman stumbled and fell into the mud.
Mustang splashed through the water. “Hey!”
His shout seemed to galvanize her and she pushed to her feet and resumed running. Her breathing coming in ragged gasps and sobs.
Mustang increased his speed.
Apparently the woman didn’t realize that he was one of the good guys. She had to be so frightened that she was beyond reason. She struggled up the incline toward the road. If Mustang didn’t catch up to her soon, she could be hit by an oncoming vehicle as soon as she emerged from the ditch.
The headlights shining on the road above made Mustang kick up his pace and he charged after the woman. Just before she reached the road, he caught her with a flying tackle, sending her sprawling onto the gravel. He pulled her beneath him and rolled her to the side, away from the oncoming car. After the vehicle had passed, he pushed up on his arms and stared down into the shadowy face of the woman. Her features were blurred in the looming darkness, but he could tell she had a scrape on her chin and her eyes were wide and frightened.
She fought, kicking and screaming something in Russian.
Mustang used the weight of his body to hold her against the ground.
When he didn’t shift off her, she switched to English. “Let go of me.”
Mustang pinned her wrists to the ground to keep her from scratching his eyes out. “Hey, lady. I’m just here to help you.”
Her struggle slowed and finally came to a halt. She stared up at him. “If you’re here to help me, let me go,” she said.
He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I’ll let you go when I’m sure you’re not gonna run out into the traffic.”
She dragged in a long, shaky breath and let it out. “I promise, I won’t run out into the traffic. And I’m not your sweetheart.”
For a long moment Mustang stared down into her face, wishing he could see the color of her eyes in the darkness. Finally he sighed and rolled over, releasing her wrists. “Okay. But I’ll tackle you again if you try to get out onto the highway.”
She sat up, rubbing her wrists where he’d held them so tightly.
“Grace sent us,” Mustang said.
The woman’s head jerked up and she stared into his eyes. “Are you some of Charlie’s men?”
“If you mean do I work for Charlie Halverson, then yes.” Mustang pushed to his feet and extended his hand.
She hesitated a moment before placing her hand in his and letting him pull her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” His gaze raked her body from head to toe, his eyes straining in the darkness. He’d lost the flashlight in his chase to catch her.
She nodded. “I think so. A little banged up and bruised from the car wreck and from being tackled.”
“Sorry about that,” Mustang said.
A smile quirked at the corners of her lips. “I guess I should thank you for keeping me safe from running out into the middle of the road.”
Footsteps sounded on the pavement behind the woman. Declan raced toward them. “Mustang? Emily?” He ground to a halt and shook his head. “An ambulance is on the way. And I called the sheriff’s department and the police department and have them looking out for a dark sedan with no license plate.”
Mustang shook his head. “The dude will be long gone before anybody gets out here.”
Declan stepped up to Emily and held out his hand. “Grace sent us. You must be Emily.”
The woman took his hand and nodded. “I’m Emily,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
Declan chuckled and tipped his head at Mustang. “You’ll have to thank Mustang. He’s the one who came to your rescue.”
She raised her eyebrows and shot a glance toward Mustang. “Mustang? Is that your real name or is that a call sign?”
“Call sign,” Mustang answered. “Frank Ford.” He held out his hand and she took it, giving it a firm shake before releasing it and rubbing her hand on the side of her leg.
The wailing of a siren brought all three heads up at once. Lights blinked around the corner and an ambulance came to a stop beside Mustang’s truck. The EMT crew leaped out of their rig and converged on Emily.
She held up her hands and backed away. “I’m okay,” she insisted.
Mustang touched her shoulder. “Let them look you over. Even if it doesn’t make you feel better, it will make me feel better,” he said and stepped back to let the EMT crew get to Emily.
Declan fell in beside Mustang. “Did you get a look at the guy who attacked her?”
Mustang shook his head. “No, it was dark, and the guy wore a ski mask.” He stared in the direction the dark sedan had gone. “However, the man had a Russian accent.”
Declan’s brows rose. “Russian, aye.”
Mustang shrugged. “Not that I speak Russian. But it sounded like it to me, and Emily apparently can speak Russian because she said something in Russian when I tackled her.”
Declan chuckled. “You tackled her?”
With
