Dean's nerves were taut as he crept forward. It was the only place nearby offering concealment. He pushed through a patch of weeds. Dean was stunned. Below him was a slope.
Several cars were parked askew in the open space, bodies lying helter-skelter in between—a scene reminiscent of a deadly gangland double-cross.
At the bottom of the slope, the road curved just ahead.
It was no wonder the four gunmen had ambushed Malago's patrol car so suddenly. If they hadn't opened fire, Malago would have seen the scene as soon as he rounded the bend...
Dean noticed that on the side of a pickup truck, two men were leaning against the truck bed, apparently shot. Judging by their skin color, they were Mexican, like the gunmen.
The brief ceasefire up ahead made the two men uneasy. They occasionally craned their necks to look in Dean's direction.
