Matt Hilton - Slash and burn

While Tito counted the money, Larry fed rounds into the Desert Eagle. He pushed the Dan Wesson into his coat pocket, the spare ammo into the opposite one.

'Are your boys going to be waiting on me on the other side of that door, Tito?'

Tito pushed the roll of notes into his trouser pocket.

'Not my style.'

'Shame,' Larry told him with a smile. 'I'll just have to wait and try the guns out later.'

I was alone in a rental car: a discreet light blue Saturn SL1, the model affectionately known as the 'gas saver'. Rink and Harvey had their own rental and were staying clear of me. They were the ace in my sleeve, and we wanted to keep things that way as long as possible.

We'd travelled north from Dallas, up toward Ray Roberts Lake, then swung east at a small town called Pilot Point. Then we'd struck out on minor roads into farm land that stretched away toward the Oklahoma state line. My car came with a GPS location finder, but it was pretty useless out here in a landscape where there were only fields and small wooded areas. The synthesised voice kept exhorting me to turn round and go back the way I'd come. In the end I switched it off. Robert Huffman's personal abode wasn't the easiest place to find.

I kept in touch with my friends via cell phone. They were on average a mile behind me. If anything happened, it could take them time to reach me. However, in most places out here on the flatlands, you could see all the way to the horizon. At any second I could be in the sights of Huffman or any of his people. One car passing through might not seem suspicious, but two in close convoy would attract attention.

Back at the motel outside Arlington, Harvey had done some digging on his laptop. From the registered business address for Huffman's property development company, he was able to track down the list of properties owned by Huffman. There were many, but one in particular stood out from the list: Quicksilver Ranch. Guessing that Huffman was the narcissistic type, it didn't take much concluding that the ranch would be a good place to start our hunt for him. The ranch was very remote. If I was holding someone prisoner, I would have chosen a place just like it. No one would hear the screams. Plus, it was easily defended. No one could approach within a mile without giving themselves away.

Harvey had Googled the location. I memorised the directions. It should have been easy: according to the map, there was only one way in and one way out. The trouble was finding that actual road. This area didn't get that many tourists. There didn't appear to be a need for road signs. The only hint that any dwellings were hidden over the horizon was the occasional mailbox fixed to a post at the entrance to a trail. Many of the trails were nothing but two lines of flattened grass. And there were sometimes miles between each.

I kept on driving.

Fields were spread out on each side of the road. The grass was turning brown now that winter was on its way. Herds of cattle grazed in the distance. The cows had long horns, unlike the breeds I was familiar with back in England. Their horns reminded me of the set that had been fixed to Larry Bolan's Dodge Ram. I wondered what had become of the big man. But thinking of him also made me recall the way I'd killed Trent. I couldn't blame Larry Bolan for hating me; if he'd killed a brother of mine I'd want him dead too. That was something I'd have to deal with later. I didn't want him haunting me for the rest of my days.

For now I had to concentrate on getting Kate away from Huffman. The only way I could do that would be to find where he was holding her.

I stopped the Saturn.

Jabbed buttons on my phone.

'You'd better hold back,' I told Rink.

'What's up, Hunter?'

'Just stopped to get my bearings.' I stared off across the fields on my left. I knew Quicksilver Ranch was over there somewhere.

'You want me to call in AWAC support?'

Back when we'd been in the forces we'd had high-altitude spy planes and satellite technology to guide us in to targets.

'A compass would have been ample.'

'You can't be far off now,' Rink said. 'Keep going, you'll see it soon.'

Way ahead of me I noted a blur on the horizon. It looked like the tops of trees. Sometimes people fancified gateways by planting trees and shrubbery.

'Wait there, Rink, I'm going on ahead. If I don't find the entrance I'll backtrack.'

Harvey's voice rumbled in the background.

'Damn,' Rink responded. Then to me, 'Heads up, Hunter. There's a chopper headed your way. You'd better get moving. Two parked cars are going to look suspicious.'

'Is it paying you any attention?'

'Yeah. Coming in low. Checking us out.'

Rink went silent. I guessed he'd put down the phone.

I started the Saturn. Then I spun it in the road and began driving back in the opposite direction. It would be less suspicious if I was heading away from the ranch when the chopper came my way.

I could see it off in the distance, a black speck hanging above the road. From this distance I couldn't identify its type. I continued towards it, travelling at a steady fifty miles per hour. No urgency, just someone passing through. I wanted to drive much faster. Any second I expected the flash of a rifle.

But it didn't come.

The chopper banked, started skimming the land towards me.

Rink came back on the phone.

'They checked us out good, Hunter. Two guys. They weren't looking for us, but they might pay you a little more interest. We'll start heading your way. Just in case.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'But travel steady. There's no need to worry, yet.'

Ringing off, I pulled my SIG out of my waistband and placed it on the seat next to me. Then I reached across to the passenger side for a baseball cap I'd brought with me which I pulled down on my head. A more obvious disguise would probably warrant further inspection. Supposing that the men in the chopper were employees of Huffman, they would be going by physical descriptions given by Judge Wallace, Sheriff Aitken or Larry Bolan. From up in the cockpit of the chopper they'd only get a cursory look at my face. If I played things cool, it should be all right.

Keeping the pressure on the gas pedal at midway, I continued travelling towards them. The chopper crossed the distance much faster. It was identifiable to me now: a Bell Jet Ranger, grey with red flashes on its tail. There was nothing that indicated it belonged to Huffman, discounting the two men inside, who had the stern faces associated with bad men. They scrutinised me with an unhealthy amount of interest.

Playing my part, I smiled at them, waved, kept on going. Watching them in my mirrors, I saw the chopper bank left and swing round after me, then zoom up on my left. The man in the co-pilot seat stared at me. I feigned confusion. The man gestured at me, telling me to take the hat off, so I complied, showing him my fresh buzz cut. Then I frowned, opened my mouth. 'What?'

The guy seemed happy enough with that. He shook his head at me, turned to the pilot, and the chopper flew on ahead. Dust swirled in my vision, then the chopper rose up in the air and I was under it and away.

Searching for it in my mirrors, I saw it heading east, towards the copse of trees I'd noticed earlier. I guessed I'd found Huffman's hiding place.

Looking ahead, I could see Rink and Harvey approaching in their Ford Windstar mini-van.

We slowed and came to a halt so we could speak through our windows.

'I take it that Huffman's expecting you,' Rink said.

'Looks that way,' I said. 'But we've got a problem now. If I turn back that way, the men in the chopper might get suspicious. They might not be as easily put off next time.'

'So how do you want to play things? Do you want to head towards Pilot Point? We'll go on and scope out the place.'