Line of Fire by Cindy Dees

some logs to sit on. But instead he pushed into the thickest underbrush she’d seen all day. More of the giant-leafed plants hung low over a tangle of vines and roots.
    She watched him pull a bunch of the leaves down and lash them with thin vines to a waist-high jumble of growth. Then he bent back enough of the vines and brambles below to create a tiny hollow. In a few minutes a little green cave took shape.
    “Get in,” he ordered. “I’m going hunting. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    “Hunting? As in for food?” she asked hopefully. Her stomach growled impatiently.
    He shrugged. “That, too. I’m going to do a little reconnaissance along the way, though.”
    Reconnaissance? That sounded dangerous. She warned him, “If you get yourself killed and leave me alone out here, I’ll have your head on a platter in the afterlife.”
    He answered dryly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want to jeopardize my immortal soul.” Grinning, he shouldered the gun he’d called an AK-47 and pushed the other gun into the shelter. “If somebody approaches you, point this baby at them and pull the trigger once. I’ll hear the noise and come back right away.”
    “You’re suggesting I shoot someone?” she exclaimed.
    “Keep your voice down!” he barked under his breath.
    “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m ordering you to shoot anyone besides me who approaches you.”
    “What if I miss?”
    “RITA doesn’t miss. It’s a computer-guided targeting system. You only have to point in the general direction of your target and it’ll do the rest.”
    She recoiled from the thought of blowing someone’s head off like she’d seen him do to clay targets. “I can’t kill someone!”
    He sighed. “Just promise you’ll pull the trigger. It’s the only way I’ll know you’re in trouble.”
    She eyed the rifle with deep suspicion.
    “Is it loaded with real bullets or fake ones for the rifle range?”
    Tex laughed shortly. “It’s loaded with hydra-shock explosive rounds. They’ll blow a hole the size of a basketball in anything they hit.”
    “What if I accidentally shoot you?”
    He shrugged. “Then take the beret. You’ll need it to strain your water.” And with that he turned and melted into the trees.
    She glared at the spot where she’d last seen him. Then the immensity of the jungle crowded in as it hit her she was alone. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the shelter. Where was a four-star hotel when a girl needed one? Heck, she’d be delighted with a rat-infested flea trap right about now.
    She shimmied out of her ruined sweater, so relieved to be free of the blasted thing she hardly cared if Tex came back and found her in her bra. The pink angora garment looked as pitiful as a cat who’d been caught out in the pouring rain.
    The shelter’s roof was too low to sit upright beneath, so she stretched out on the cool ground and wadded the sweater under her head. Relief washed over her as she finally let go of the day’s tension. She’d close her eyes for just a minute.
    She had no idea how long she slept. One second she was peacefully unconscious and the next she had the distinct feeling she was not alone. She opened her eyes and looked up.
    A man loomed over her. His skin was dark and a red beret slouched over one eye. His eyes gleamed with hatred and lust.
    She drew breath to scream, but a filthy hand slammed down on her mouth. She froze as cold steel bit into the side of her neck.

Chapter 4
    C old-blooded, killing-on-his-mind rage surged through Tex at the sight of the soldier holding a knife to Kimberly’s neck. He lunged through the thicket at the rebel, snarling low in his throat. The soldier spun away from Kimberly and sprang into a fighting stance. A knife glinted faintly in the guy’s right hand.
    Blood roared in his ears and Tex didn’t mess around with any finesse moves. He charged forward, grabbed the slashing wrist and slammed his fist into the guy’s face as