Dr. Alexandra Christopher was noticeably paler than normal, her complexion blanched beneath the natural tan of an active outdoorswoman. Vin wrapped his arm around her waist for support as she stepped from the low sports car and felt her flinch. The car door slid shut as soon as she was clear, giving the wounded passenger a solid surface to rest against.

"Alex? How bad…?" Vin asked softly, gesturing to the side she was favoring.

"Uhn… just -- give me a minute… please."

The woman took a deep breath, wincing as her wound pulled. Tanner reached out to help her, but she waved him off as the pain receded to manageable levels. Eventually, she pushed off from Karr to stand before the sharpshooter, not unaware of his watchful gaze assessing her every move.

She smiled wanly. “God! Am I ever glad to see you, Tex! You would not believe the week I've had!"

Vin merely raised an eyebrow.

Alex must have caught the sentiment, for she ruefully amended her previous statement in acknowledgment. "Well," she allowed, "maybe you can…."

Tanner grinned wolfishly. "Cain't be any worse than some a the weeks I've had, Lexi. Why don't you tell me all about it and we'll compare battle scars?"

Alex rolled her eyes at him, then tried to roll her shoulders to shake out some of the lingering tension from the long drive. She swayed slightly as a wave of dizziness struck, but Tanner was there to stabilize her with a hand on her elbow.

"I think the explanations can wait fer a bit." Vin decided as she fought to regain her balance. "Let's get you looked after first, 'kay? Good -- Nathan!" He was already calling for the team medic even before he registered her nod of assent.

Both Nathan Jackson and Buck Wilmington came forward, the affable lady's man smiling charmingly at the pale woman as he slipped her arm over his shoulders to take some of her weight. The healer gave her a reassuring glance as he knelt to inspect her wound, tsking at the sight of fresh blood.

With Alex in goods hands, Tanner ignored his teammates inquiries and turned his attention to the imperceptibly rumbling Stealth. It had been a while since he'd seen the AI housed within the magnificent black sports car, but seeing as the only times he ever came in contact with he and his partner was under the most trying of circumstances, he knew what signs to look for to judge the sentient computer's state of mind.

He was seeing some of them now. The car shivered slightly in the warm weather, hinting at a confusing air of barely leashed impatience and uncomfortable reticence. No sound was heard from the Stealth, not even the normal car sounds of a running automobile. A cloud of unnatural silence seemed to have surrounded the vehicle, and Vin frowned in realization. Karr's fluctuating temper, erratic and dangerous even at the best of times, was balanced on the knife's edge between the computer's rational logic and the soul's painful rage. All together, the effect seemed to make Karr radiate a darkness far deeper than the midnight black of his indestructible MBS coating. That the normally controlled AI's emotions were so obviously barely held in check was a major concern for the ex-bounty-hunter. He, as well as any, knew how potentially hazardous that loss of control could be.

"Uh, Vin? Pard? You wanna explain what this is all about?" Larabee asked calmly, his soft voice belying the growing frustration visible in his eyes. Something more was happening than the leader was picking up, and that bothered him. Larabee may not know what he was missing, but Vin didn't need to see his glare to know he wasn't gonna like it when he found out.

He and the boys had watched the unusual meeting between their teammate and the strange woman curiously, hearing the words spoken but not fully grasping their meaning. On some level, Tanner knew he'd have to explain at some point, but for now he was grateful for their ignorance. The truth was so strange, they'd never be able to guess it.

And knowing would change everything.

"Vin?"

Tanner didn't so much as twitch to show he'd heard his boss. He kept his sight locked on the vehicle before him, unconcerned with the trivial detail of Larabee's imminent blow up. Impatient at the best of times, Team Seven's volatile leader had little restraint when it came to the safety of his men, and even less when his best friend was in danger. His reactions were a given to one who knew him as well as Vin did, and thus of no immediate consequence.

Karr, dark and silent, was his current worry. It was safer to ignore the rattler coiling at his back than to ignore the panther crouched before him. The rattler would hiss, but it would never strike -- not at him at least. About the panther, Vin couldn't be so sure.

"What the hell is going on?!" Chris demanded as Vin knew he would, the blonde's voice the low hiss of a pissed-off rattler. "Who is the woman? What happened to her? And why did she come here? Damnit, Tanner, what kind of trouble are you into now?"

Tanner's blue eyes glanced at his leader and friend, caught the fierce green glare directed at him and as usual, dismissed it with a shrug. Even at its scariest, that glare had never bothered the unflappable Texan. Instead of answering Chris, he looked down at the gleaming black sports car, squinting his eyes a little as the bright setting sun reflected off the flawless paintwork.

His silence was a question, and was answered just as silently. Under the ATF agent's watchful gaze, the Stealth's virtually unnoticeable trembling gradually ceased until Karr became a still dark shadow that melded into the growing night. Quiet and calm on the outside, the advanced Artificial Intelligence gave no evidence to the turmoil that likely frothed and boiled behind strong shields in its mind.

Satisfied that the AI wouldn't be tearing off on a killing streak any time soon, Vin turned and headed back into the house without another thought.

In the den, Vin found Alex lying down on the couch with Nathan bent over her clucking his tongue. Buck sat on the armrest beside her head, talking softly to her as he held her hand gently between his much larger two. The dark-haired forest ranger was almost unnaturally still as she watched the medic treat her torn and bloody flesh. No sound escaped past her tightly clamped lips but her bruising grip on Buck's fingers betrayed the pain the Texan knew she must be feeling.

The tracker ghosted up to stand at the back of the sofa, silently watching Nathan work. Chris, equally silent, stepped up beside him and dropped a hand to his shoulder. The fancily dressed undercover agent, Ezra Standish, came up to stand vigil at his teammate's other side. The young computer expert, JD Dunne, went to stand at Buck's side while the team's giant profiler, Josiah Sanchez, took up a position at the foot of the sofa. Flanked by his own silent honor-guard and surrounded by teammates, Vin was deeply grateful for his friends' loyal support.

Whatever else happened, he knew they'd be there to help him however they could. It was a feeling he'd never known before, but had grown to depend on. He appreciated it more than he could ever say that he still had it now.

Eventually, Jackson sat back as he finished wrapping the wound he'd gently been cleaning, stitching, and dressing. He smiled at the weary woman and patted her thigh as he climbed to his feet.

"Well, ya got lucky. The slash was deep, but not jagged. And you kept the wound clean, even if you couldn't completely stop the bleeding. Don't think it's infected, but ya never really know. I'll give you some widespread antibiotics, which'll hopefully cut that possibility off before it develops. I also had to give you a few stitches to hold the edges together, so that's gonna restrict your movements for awhile."

He must have seen the glint that appeared in his patient's eye, because the large African American man frowned sternly down at her. Vin had to consciously check his own reaction to that frown, so often had it been directed at him.

"Not that you outta be going anywhere or doing anything for a good long while anyway," Nathan continued. "You might have only been bleeding a trickle, but you still lost too much blood. Should have gone to a hospital right away with that gash -- knife wounds like that can get infected real easy if ya ain't careful."

"Knife wounds!" Chris hissed, surprised only because he'd half-way been expecting Nathan to announce it was a gun shot wound. Damnit, what the hell had that dang fool Texan gotten into this time? But he put aside his confusion, frustration, and worry to deal with later. No matter his personal feelings, he was still an officer of the law, and he fell back on his training. Before he was consciously aware of it, he'd assumed his leadership role and begun snapping orders at his men. "Shit. All right, Ezra, get on the phone to the Denver PD and have 'em send somebody to meet us at Mercy. Josiah, go start up one of the cars, we'll take her to the ER ourselves. Nate, can you get her ready to go? Vin, you can give me a report--"

"No."

"--on the way to the hospit--" he froze, the sharply stated objection finally registering. He turned to look at his sharpshooter, the "what did you say?" falling dully from his lips as his eyes widened in surprise.

"I said, no. As in we ain't doin' nothing and we ain't goin' nowheres. And don't look at me like that, Larabee! I ain't crazy. Just… just trust me. Please. I know what I'm doin'."

Blue eyes blazing with the need to be obeyed, Tanner looked every inch the fierce warrior and capable leader Larabee had known him to be when he appointed him second-in-command of the unit. Chris had always known he could trust the street-smart Texan to look after the Team should anything happen to him, he'd just never expected Vin to override him when he was still capable of giving the orders. Larabee watched him carefully, wondering what was really going on.

Responding to the silent scrutiny with a seriousness that he never gave verbal commands, Tanner directed his next statements to the green eyes searing him to his soul. "No hospitals, no cops. Can't chance 'em. This ain't none of their business."

The green eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'none of their business'?"

The blue eyes never wavered. "I mean they don't need to know. I mean they wouldn't even know what to do if'n they did know. I mean they got no call gettin' involved in this. Ain't nobody callin' nobody, Larabee. This stays between us."

Larabee stared at his agent, gleaning more from his eyes than he ever would from the taciturn Texan's words. Vin never faltered, staring steadily back at him with firm conviction. Chris took that into account, combined it with what he knew of the man he called friend, and came to an abrupt decision.

"Standish, put down the phone."

As the undercover agent complied, the scowling EMT opened his mouth to argue. Tanner, standing down from the near confrontation with his boss and best friend, leaned forward and caught his eye.

"Sorry, Nate, no hospital. Ya done all ya could, that'll be good enough. Alex is a tough ol' bird, she'll be okay." His gaze dropped down, warm concern and a bit of his usual good humor coming back into their blue depths as he looked down at the woman on the cushions. "Won't ya, Lexi?"

Alex, through her pain, still managed to match his smile as she looked up at him from her prone position. "Who you calling 'old', boy?" she shot back.

Vin winked at her, then all traces of lightness abruptly fled his expression. Recognizing the change in his demeanor, and knowing well what it meant from her similar experiences with Nicholas MacKenzie, Alex struggled up into a sitting position.

"Two days ago," she began, "I planned to meet Nick at a remote camping spot for a romantic getaway. With Michael and Kitt overseas, Nick and Karr decided to take a vacation and asked me along." Wistfulness rang in her tone as she talked, remembering the joy she'd felt at the all too rare opportunity for time alone with her long-term lover.

Alex arrived to find an empty campsite. Confused and a bit apprehensive, the biologist was nevertheless not all that concerned as she climbed out of her car to look around. She reasoned Nick had gone somewhere with his partner, Karr, as the black Stealth was also no where in sight.

Shrugging, Alex figured she might as well make herself at home. If the boys were out joyriding, then there was nothing she could do about it. They'd get back whenever they felt like it. Putting her gear into the two-man tent Nick had erected at the edge of the campsite, Alex decided she might as well make dinner while she was waiting. Breathing in the fresh woodland air, humming contentedly, she was just beginning her preparations when she was grabbed from behind.

Screaming in surprise, Alex twisted and kicked backwards at her captor. By chance, she managed to land a hard blow on the man's shin causing him to yelp as he dropped her. She fell back and spun to face him. Though she hadn't heard Karr's return, she was irrationally hoping to find her lover smirking back at her with whatever lesson he was trying to teach her this time. Instead, she found herself confronted with an angry heavyset man glaring at her. Alex, frightened but remembering her training, reacted by dropping into the fighter's crouch Nick had taught her. Being involved with a man like Nicholas MacKenzie had long since necessitated Alex learning a variety of self-defense techniques, though she didn't often get the chance to apply her skills. A fact for which she was exceedingly grateful, but which meant she wasn't as proficient as she'd like to be when facing such daunting odds.

The thug snarled, pulled a knife, and lunged at her. She ducked, slipped nimbly under his arm as he passed her, and struck out at his now unprotected back. Staggering with the blow to his kidneys, the thug cried out and fell to his knees. Alex watched him warily, readying herself for a counterattack. She never saw the goon that came at her from the other direction.

Pulled off her feet by the second attacker, Alex swore sharply at herself for dropping her guard. She struggled hard in his massive grip, but he held her securely. She kicked her feet, trying to strike him as she had the first thug, but he avoided her easily. Her hands clawed at his arms, her nails gouging bloody welts in his skin. Still, he clutched the feisty woman tightly, unmoved by her efforts to free herself.

The first thug climbed to his feet, knife still gripped tightly in his curled fist. Smirking at her evilly, he darted forward and swept the blade harshly across her ribs. Alex shrieked with pain at the sudden fire in side, her foot reflexively ramming upwards. Too slow to react, the thug failed to dodge the unconscious response. Alex's steel-toed hiking boot landed hard in his groin. Howling, the thug clutched at his abused flesh and collapsed in on himself.

His partner laughed at his misfortune, his grip on the captive woman loosening with his distraction. Hurting, but somehow hyperaware of her situation, Alex took advantage of the lack of attention and ripped herself free. She landed awkwardly on the ground, the impact jarring her wounded side. Slapping a hand to the bleeding injury, Alex scrambled back away from the threatening men.

Then suddenly Karr was there. Engine screaming, the powerful black Stealth charged explosively into the campsite. The two burly goons had no time to react, the sleek sports car plowing hard into them. They barely managed not to get crushed under his tires as they leapt to the side. In seconds, both thugs were lying prone on the ground with the enraged AI growling over them. Shocked, they froze in fear.

"I tied them up, then we went back out to the clearing where Nick had been taken. There was nothing there that was useful. They didn't leave anything behind, not even a sample of mud for Karr to run a chemical analysis on. Damnit, if it weren't for the flattened landscape, you'd never even have known something had happened." She shook her head, frustrated at their failure all over again.

"Karr and I wound up wasting the last of the daylight trying to track the helicopter, but that proved to be virtually impossible." Alex continued, her voice reflecting the disappointment she'd felt then. "Eventually, we went back to the campsite and I packed everything up."

Alex looked up at the sharpshooter, cautious hope glittering behind her dark eyes. "Karr said Nick told him to fetch you. That you'd help us, get him back. He was adamant we come here, so I just came along for the ride."

Vin nodded thoughtfully, arching an eyebrow. "'Fetch'?"

Alex grinned. "Well, maybe he didn't use that exact word -- but the intent was the same," she added. Then she grimaced as she shifted, re-igniting the pain along her ribs.

"All right, that's enough." Nathan interjected, smoothly taking over now that it seemed the serious issue was coming to an -- at least temporary -- end. In moments, the dark man re-established his control, as commanding in his medically driven orders as Chris Larabee always was. "JD, get her a glass of water or juice to down these pain relievers -- she needs to replenish her fluids, anyway. Josiah, pass over that blanket. And you, Miss, lay back down b'fore you undo all my hard work." So saying, the big black man reached out to gently push her on her back.

Alex tolerated the fussing and accepted her juice and pills, but she didn't relax.

Vin said nothing, but continued watching her. There was more to the story than she'd told him so far, but he was willing to wait for her to tell it at her own pace.

Alex swallowed first the antibiotic, then the pain reliever, washing both down with the orange juice forced upon her by a determined medic. As soon as she could, she returned to her narrative. "When we got back to the clearing, and before calling for the authorities to pick up the two thugs, we did ask them a few questions. Or, well, Karr did… It was easy enough for him to convince them it would be in their best interest to tell us everything they knew."

Vin nodded, understanding completely. He'd seen the AI intimidate hardened killers into begging for mercy, he had no doubt the thugs would have squealed everything.

Frowning, a faraway look in her eyes, Alex recounted the tale. "He tried everything he could, asked them over and over again. But they were just hired muscle. Not a brain cell between them. They'd been order to kidnap me and bring me to some military base in the mountains. They didn't even know who had issued the order, let alone why! Karr knew more than they did, because at least he knew General Nash was involved, but wh--"

"Nash?!"

Startled by the harsh gasp, Alex looked up into Vin wide blue eyes. She nodded slowly, reluctant to confirm the Texan's fears -- the same fears she knew her own lover suffered. "Yes, Vin, I'm sorry. It was Nash who took Nick; and why he asked for you."

"'Cause y'all know I can deal with him where most can't." Tanner softly drawled, less a question than a statement.

Alex nodded. "That's what we we're hoping. We came as fast as Karr could get us here."

"What about the others?" he asked, meaning the other human-AI partnership Nick and Karr had taken under their wing. "I woulda thought they'd be Karr's first choice, no matter what the trouble."

Alex smiled sadly. "They were, are. But Nick vetoed the idea, and for good reason. They wouldn't stand a chance against Nash. Nick knew that, and so do you."

Yeah, Vin thought, he guessed he did. While Karr wasn't the type to ask for help, the aloof AI being more likely to suffer in silence than allow anyone near him, there were a few people he'd go to. First and foremost was his brother, a younger AI named Kitt. And with him came Kitt's driver, Michael Knight, the field operative for the Foundation for Law and Government. As the only other human and AI pair, who shared a neural link of their own, they were the only ones who could fully understand what the partners meant to each other. Without Kitt or Knight to call on, Alex herself would probably be Karr's first thought, even though he knew she didn't have the right training to be of much use.

Which left only him, he supposed. Though he could hardly be called a friend to either man or AI, he was at least a fairly trusted ally. They'd turned to him before, Vin remembered. It had even been one such occasion which had introduced the bounty-hunter to the woman before him. Only that time, the victim had been a child Alex was close to and Nick had been one of the rescuers. Vin Tanner, the soft-spoken but absolutely deadly Hunter, had served as their tracker at Nick's behest.

Karr hadn’t seemed to like the wily Texan back then either, Vin remembered. It didn’t seem likely he’d ask for his help now.

And yet… here he was.

Vin knew he'd do whatever he could to help. Knew he'd do whatever he had to.

Knew that… the General wouldn't win. Not again.

Not like he had six years ago -- when, despite his best efforts, Vin Tanner had still been known in some circles by the codename he'd fought so hard to bury.

The Hunter.

The ultimate predator, born and bred to hunt the hardest of prey. Created for the sole purpose of hunting other predators, Vin thought in disgust. The Hunter -- the predator of predators.

Vin had been trained from childhood to track his targets through any conditions, and was renowned for his ability to kill. Though no one ever saw the person behind the name and lived to tell about it, the Hunter was a world-recognized assassin with a frightening reputation: if he could see it, he could kill it.

And the General had created him. Somehow, the sharpshooter wasn't the least bit surprised to learn the bastard was still alive.

The Devil was hard to kill, after all.

Vin easily remembered the last time he had encountered the Devil-in-disguise, General Jackson Nash. Which was, perhaps not so coincidentally, during another rescue of Nicholas MacKenzie in a Colorado mountain range.

Tanner, then a bounty hunter, had been tracking his prey through the wilderness of the Rocky Mountains. He'd followed the wanted murderer all the way up from Texas, becoming more and more determined as the son of a bitch left a trail of dead campers to taunt him along the way.

He was catching up quickly, Vin reckoned, as his ornery beast of a horse crested yet another hill. The path they were following was a steep rocky trail that was probably not meant for any creature but the nimble mountain sheep and goats that made these hills their home. Neither Vin nor Peso could have cared less. The big black blaze-faced gelding traversed the rocky trail, sharp cliffs, and narrow ledges as easily as if he were strolling through a flat field of grass. The horse might have been the most vicious ill-tempered beast God had ever had the misfortune of creating, but he made up for it with grace and strength to rival any other horse on Earth. Vin Tanner, now no more than two days behind the killer, thanked his cantankerous mount even as he cursed him.

At the top of the hill, the tracker climbed off his horse to survey the vista spread out below them. Dropping the reins, trusting the surly gelding not to wander too far in his ever-constant search for food, Tanner pulled out his sniper's rifle and laid belly-down at the cliff's edge. Peering through the rifle's powerful scope, he scanned the trees of the valley below him for signs of human passage.

No sooner had he begun looking than the peaceful silence of the Colorado mountains was shattered by the sharp crack of gunfire.

Peso snorted and half-reared in surprise, but the big black horse was well used to weapons thanks to his rider's profession. He immediately settled down and turned his head to watch as Vin scrambled up the rocks with the rifle slung across his shoulder.

"C'mon, mule. 'At's prob'ly Kraus down there stinkin' up the woods now."

Remounting, horse and hunter sped off towards the only sound disrupting nature's tranquility.

Vin followed a barely visible trail in the direction the gunfire had come from for over two hours, knowing he would probably be too late by the time he got there. Pressing on, trusting his horse's instincts when his own failed him, Tanner did his best to close in on his prey's location.

All too soon, horse and rider jerked with surprise at the sounds of angry human voices from over the next ridge. Uncertain of the situation, the cautious tracker dismounted to creep silently through the last few meters of thick forest. As he neared the clearing, the yelling gradually refined into three men's separate tones -- neither of which was Lucas Kraus, the wanted murderer. Confused, Vin stilled in a crouch behind a particularly leafy bush to properly assess the situation.

It didn't take long.

With one glance, Tanner knew he'd have to act. Curled in a ball, wrapped protectively around something that looked like nothing so much as a small black VCR, a bruised and bloody dark-haired man cursed in a strangely familiar voice. The wounded man was being kicked repeatedly by several shouting men. All were dressed in dark military camouflage uniforms. At least, Vin thought, they'd been kind enough to drop their guns out of reach while they engaged in their 'fun'. That would make things easier when Vin launched his own attack.

What decided Tanner's choice to act was not so much the victim, as it was the tall older 'gentleman' standing off to the side with a pleasant smile on his face as he watched the proceedings. Despite the many years that had passed since last he'd seen the man, Vincent Michael Tanner could still recognize the Devil of his childhood. Involuntarily, a feral snarl hissed through his bared teeth as the bounty hunter observed the one man he hated more than any other standing less than 750 yards away from him.

The General.

True name: unknown. Most common alias: Jackson Nash.

The Devil.

The son of a bitch who'd made Vin Tanner the killer he was today.

His blue eyes glinting with barely contained savagery, a growl rumbling deep in his throat, Tanner decided to live up to Nash's expectations of him one last time.

If it was the last thing he ever did, Vin Tanner vowed to put a bullet through General Jackson Nash's brain.

Decision made, it took no time for the bounty hunter to un-sling his rifle and line up his first shot. Nash was standing at an angle to the sharpshooter, and had partial coverage from the truck he leaned against talking with one of the soldiers, but the Devil's body was perfectly exposed from collar to chin. A difficult target for anyone else, that pale expanse of smooth skin was as clear as a bull's eye for the world's most deadly sniper.

A gentle pull, a soft pop, and a bright red dot erupted right in the middle of General Jackson Nash's throat.

But Vin had no time to revel in his success. As the General's body dropped out of sight, the soldiers abandoned their prisoner and lurched for their weapons. No foolish amateurs these, the professional mercenaries swept their guns into ready grips even as they dived for cover. Tanner managed to drop one with a well-placed bullet through the heart, but his next shot merely caught another soldier in the thigh as the man dashed behind a wall of storage crates.

By now, the mercenaries had pinpointed the sniper's general location and had begun returning fire. Tanner ducked and elbow-walked on his belly to a new vantage point -- careful to keep as low to the ground as possible. When he popped up, he saw that the scene had changed somewhat. A few of the mercenaries were using the rapid fire of their compatriots to spread out across the clearing. The former Army Ranger easily recognized the standard, but still clever, strategy: spread out to surround the enemy while splitting his own targets as far apart as possible.

Worse than all that, Vin noticed one soldier snatch up a radio along his dash. No doubt reinforcements would soon be descending on the impromptu battlefield.

Tanner knew he had to end this now. He glanced again at the spot where the beaten man had been laying, but saw nothing but a few bloody splotches in the grass. Surveying the area, Vin was actually shocked to see the ragged figure sneaking through the trees as stealthily as possible for a man with one half-working eye, an inflamed knee, no doubt broken ribs, and more bruised than unbruised skin on his whole body. Even more astonishing, he was still carrying the small black box.

Ironically, the sight made Vin grin. If nothing else, he could always appreciate a man's pure stubbornness.

His gaze switching from the mercenaries positioning themselves throughout the field, to the wounded man stumbling through the woods not far from his own position, Tanner quickly decided the prisoner had the right of it. Gathering his rifle to his chest, the bounty hunter turned and swiftly made his own, infinitely more stealthy, way back to his horse.

Peso was waiting for him right where he'd left the fractious beast, but rather than rush forward to his horse's side, Vin slowed cautiously and took a good look around. His horse may have been the most vicious critter on four legs, but the bounty hunter had worked with the animal for years and knew every ounce of the blaze-faced gelding's body language. Right now, Peso was aware of something Vin wasn't.

Powerful muscles bunched tight under his coal black coat, Peso had his head thrown up to watch as many directions at once as possible. His nostrils flared with whatever strange scents he was picking up, while his ears continuously swiveled searching for some indistinct sound. Every few seconds, he stamped a hoof in irritation or anxiety or some combination of both.

With any other horse, Vin might have thought all the gunfire and bloodshed of the battle so close by had spooked the skittish animal. With the intractably stubborn Peso though, Vin knew the animal's wary tension meant something far more dangerous.

Someone else was there.

Freezing where he stood, Vin's hawk-eyed gaze combed the woods around him for the intruder. Most likely it was the wounded prisoner, but there was no point taking chances.

Sure enough, the battered form of a man limped out of the tree line toward the black gelding. Peso's attention shifted uneasily to the approaching human, but his animal instincts must have reassured him he was of no threat, because the horse's eyes and ears immediately went back to studying the terrain.

Vin, who'd been in the process of relaxing, suddenly tensed again.

Guess that wasn't the someone Peso was wary of.

The prisoner was less than ten feet from the nervous horse when the big gelding suddenly nickered sharply and whirled sideways. Peso took two quick long-legged strides backwards, laid his ears back flat along his neck, shifted his center of gravity forward, and kicked out both hind legs with all his massive weight. Both Vin and the prisoner heard the pained cry from the copse of trees the hard hooves slashed so powerfully into.

Ignoring the startled prisoner, Tanner dashed out of his hiding place and past his rearing horse to check the figure twitching in agony behind a bush. Jaw-dropping, the bounty hunter was shocked to find not one of the mercenaries as he'd expected, but Lucas Kraus, bail-jumping murderer, and the very man that had brought Vin Tanner into this mountain battlefield.

"Shit!" The quiet curse was voiced explosively, if softly, by the overwhelmed Texan. Kraus was obviously down for good, his spine all but shattered where Peso's hooves had caught him. But with the mercenaries so close, and the wounded prisoner in need of a ride, there was no way Vin was gonna get the chance to collect his $300, 000 bounty now.

Looking from his broken bounty, to the weary prisoner watching him with a surprisingly calm and lucid expression, Tanner sighed and bent down to draw his knife. While the bounty hunter really would have been more inclined to leave the bastard to die slowly and painfully in the dirt where he was, neither he nor the prisoner could take the chance of Kraus talking to the mercenaries who were surely on their way. Without so much as a blink, the Texan slipped the razor sharp edge of his hunting knife across the murderer's throat, granting a quick and painless death.

Straightening up, Tanner turned to the other man and with a cold smile, waved the hand holding his rifle in indication of his impatient mount. The prisoner smiled back just as coldly through his bloody lip, but limped over to the now quiet gelding. Tanner joined him, and together they managed to haul themselves and their respective armloads up into the saddle.

Turning Peso and spurring the horse into a fast gallop away from the scene, Vin Tanner reflected on the strange situation he'd managed to find himself drawn into.

"So," he asked in a light tone, as if he and the stranger at his back were old friends out for a casual ride, instead of hunted men running for their lives, "what's in the box?"

On To Part 3