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of him, Dak also noticed similar, smaller indentations left by the two boys.

The path escalated slightly over a knoll and then sloped back down again. The undulating terrain made the run more challenging, but it was a challenge Dak met with the determined ease of a battle-hardened soldier.

He met another rise with the same grit, pumping his legs faster. He knew with every step he was gaining on the two boys. His legs were longer and the younger McDowell kid would have trouble keeping up the pace. Even if they spent hours running every week, Dak doubted they'd trained as hard as he did.

At the crest of the next hill, Dak felt the muscles in his legs warming, but he still had plenty of strength left. He slowed, however, as he saw something moving among the trees, just above where the creek steered to the left at the mountain's base.

The two boys' shirts made them easy to spot even from a thousand yards away. Dak's lungs filled and emptied in a steady, quick rhythm. He started to jog down the hill toward the mountain. When he reached the bottom, he opened the throttle to a full sprint.

His weapons and bag felt heavy, but he pressed on, forcing himself to run that much harder toward the two kids who were climbing toward the top of the ridge. A single concern raced through his mind as he cut the distance between himself and the boys.

Will I get to them before Nate's in range?

Seventeen

Brown’s Ferry

Nate slammed on the brakes and the truck's tires ground to a crunching halt a few yards short of the bridge.

He quickly opened the door and stepped out of the cab, clutching the rifle in his right hand. The overt smell of smoke filled his nostrils as thin, gray tendrils wafted by on the breeze.

A look back toward the farmhouse revealed the source. The single plume of black smoke had dissipated and been replaced by a wider column of smoke that grew with every passing second.

Nate clenched his jaw angrily—the explosion had caused a fire to break out. With the recent lack of rain and the dry rows of corn, it wouldn't take long for the inferno to reach the forest. The dry leaves that covered the forest floor would easily ignite. The entire area would be ablaze before anyone could stop it.

Fury raged inside him, burning hotter than the grass and cornstalks ever could. Dak had destroyed everything he'd worked for. His nostrils flared with every breath as all his plans, his detailed preparations, literally went up in smoke.

He reeled in his thoughts and returned to method; deliberate actions he could control when everything else around him spun wildly.

Nate trudged hurriedly down the bank where he found the soft dirt near the creek. Even with the dry conditions, the dirt left clear imprints, or should have. There weren't any on the left side of the bridge, so he quickly strode to the other side and investigated the soil there.

He noticed the footprints immediately and raised his eyes, following the three sets that trailed away into the strip of grass alongside the stream.

Two sets of prints were smaller; clearly belonging to the boys he'd planned on hunting. The third set, however, caused him concern. They belonged to a full-grown man, at least a size 10, perhaps a 10.5. The evidence couldn't have been clearer in Nate's mind. Dak wore that size. Nate would swear on his life to that. When they served together, he'd watched Dak put on his boots a hundred times.

Nate needed a new plan. Actually, he needed a new mindset. Instead of being concerned with Dak's surprising presence, Nate shifted his thinking. It was a bonus to have Dak here. Nate could take out the only threat to his way of life—assuming Bo was keeping as low a profile as possible.

Bo had tried, Nate thought.

Considered by everyone in the team to be the least clever, Nate let them all believe that. The truth was much different.

Nate had attended extremely good schools as a young man, and had often been at the top of his class in all his studies. He didn't let people see that side of him, though, choosing to allow them to think he was stupid. He put on the disguise of aloofness and naivety, sometimes to surprise people, but most of the time to keep expectations low. High expectations brought responsibility. Nate didn't want that. He held other desires close to the vest, along with his brilliant mind.

That resourcefulness and high level of intelligence served him well during his life, and especially during his search for Bo.

Nate knew that Bo was potentially as big a threat as Dak, even though Bo had openly advised none of them using their real names or contacting each other ever again.

So, Nate worked diligently to find where Bo Taylor had gone. It took months of searching, but he'd managed to initially locate the man in Southeast Asia. Bo wasn't stupid. He'd changed his name, forged papers, just like the rest of the team. But Bo took extra precautions, never staying in the same place for more than a month. He migrated like a nomad, sure to leave no trace he'd ever been in any of the locations.

Even with all his efforts, Nate was able to track him down.

Bo recently moved to one of the Cyclades Islands off the Greek mainland. Andros was one of the quieter, less populated islands in the Aegean Sea. It maintained a steady flow of tourists every year, but nothing compared to some of the more popular destinations, such as Naxos, Santorini, and Mykonos.

The move from Thailand to the rocky island of Andros was a drastic one, and one that few would have caught. Bo had taken every possible precaution, but he couldn't avoid Nate forever.

Nate had no plans to go after Bo, not yet. He believed that Bo would leave him alone, afraid of what might happen if he made a play for

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