"We need to be careful," Sam whispered, stealthily moving through the forest, "we don't know how many there are ahead, nor do we know what they have planned."

"The path is narrow," Davidson said, "if they're going to attack, it will be from the sides of the path. They may also come from the area ahead to move quickly through the undergrowth. If they are waiting to attack the clearing, it will be from a vantage point ..." he said, "someplace high."

"Yeah," Sam said, "pointing ... like those trees."

"They would be ideal," Davidson said, "there is a view of the path and the clearing."

"I think we've been spotted," Sam said, moving quickly into the undergrowth as rifle fire ran out, "yep, we've been spotted."

"Cover," Davidson called as he ran toward the tall tree, and Sam aimed and fired twice before sudden silence filled the air, "target down."

Sam moved forward as more gunfire exploded in the quiet of the forest. Quickly finding and aiming at the second man, Sam tracked him through the undergrowth, "Man, this guy has a death wish."

"You should talk," the soft words whispered next to Sam's ear, "now drop the gun and surrender."

"If you know me, you know I never follow the rules," Sam said, lowering her weapon. Instead of putting the gun on the ground, she bent her elbow, twisting and pulling in close to her body, continuing past herself and ramming into the warmth she felt behind her. A grunt told of successful contact. Fresh air swooped in as the person fell into the foliage. Spinning, she came up on her feet, aiming at the prostrate man behind her as he reached for a weapon and fired widely in her direction. Sam did not hesitate. Lifting the barrel, she took deadly aim and fired. The red began to blossom minutes before the ground peppered around her.

"Damn," she muttered, diving into the undergrowth and rolling away from the increased spray of bullets, "I'm losing patience with these people."

Rolling to her feet, Sam pulled her second weapon from the holster and aimed into the trees. Each gun aimed in a different direction, finding her target and firing one shot per weapon. Across the clearing, commands rang out. Davidson popped up near the edge of the clearing, firing twice before disappearing. The ground around his area exploded in leaves, branches, sand and shards of rock. Changing direction, Sam moved around the trees group scanning the limbs above. The quiet after the blast of fire was concerning. Suddenly, she locked onto the shooter aiming directly at her with a slow grin spreading over his lips. Gasping, she spun out of his line of fire but knew he would track her. Diving into the undergrowth near his perch bought her the precious moments she needed while he lined up his shot once more. Sam marked Davidson crossing the clearing as she rolled into a crouch, took aim and fired through the leaves above her. She heard a thud followed by a grunt moving out of the way; Sam avoided the rifle's free fall, followed by the body. Looking around, she could find no one else assigned to the clearing position.

Davidson signalled from where he rose at a tree base pointing down into the undergrowth. Sam joined him, giving a questioning glance at the panting man who knelt next to an injured attacker.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Tell her what you told me," Davidson hissed, "tell her everything."

The man gasped in pain before looking between the two; finally, he nodded, "The escaped resident is not the only target we were given." The man panted and winced in pain, "our orders are to irradicate the line of Headrow."

"Why?" Sam asked, kneeling next to the man, "what could possibly be the reason for killing me."

"Your family has evidence ..." he groaned, gasping, swallowing hard, then continuing, "they know ... too much ..." he blinked quickly, squinting at Sam. "Your parents stood as protectors of the Bassetts ... your line is designed to survive."

"Designed to ..." Sam frowned; where had she heard that before? "Is there a bounty? "

The man nodded, "One million to the man or woman who can stop you from getting to ..." he panted in pain, "the mountain."

"It's going to be a busy day today," Sam said, sighing, "make him comfortable, secure him, and we need to be gone."

Davidson stared hard at Sam before shaking his head, "I'll secure him and then we need to talk."

Sam nodded, moving toward the other side of the clearing, "What was he talking about?"

Thinking through everything the man said, Sam felt there were missing pieces. A long-forgotten conversation with her parents came to mind ... it was the last one they had. Were they about to tell her what her heritage was? Did they want her to have information that could help her with Cherry's problem? Pulling her phone out, she sent a text to Carl. He was the one who knew her parents better than anyone else. She needed information from him regarding anything tied in with the words bouncing around in her head.

"Hey, are you okay?" Davidson asked.

"Yeah, why are you asking?" Sam asked.

"You've just heard you're on a hit list," Davidson said, "no ... you are the hit list."

"It's not great, but I cannot focus on that," Sam said, "I need to get to Cherry. Someone may be with her, but she will need protection on her journey; otherwise, the Tenderhooks will manipulate her into doing something, and she'll lose everything."

"Do you know what everything is?" Davidson asked.

Sam frowned. It wasn't what he said but the way he said it. Looking at him, she shook her head, "Perhaps ask the Tenderhooks."

Stan and Amy came into view. Amy slowed, looking around at the bodies; she paled and shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. Stan frowned.

Looking around before moving toward them, "What happened here? Are you okay?"

"We met ... resistance and neutralised it," Sam said, "and discovered I'm their hit list."

"You mean on their hit list," Stan said, glancing between Davidson and Sam.

"No," Davidson said, "she is the entire hit list."

"That isn't good," Stan said, "what now?"

"I wanted to move on, but those trailing us will follow. Unfortunately, we need to stop the trackers here," Sam said. "They will expect something from up above. If we change it up and let the attack come from a different angle ..." she nodded, "the element of surprise may be ours."

"They heard all the gunshots," Stan said, "they won't expect you to be the attackers."

"Exactly," Sam said, "now ... get her out of view and someplace she won't scream the place down when trouble hits the fan and lets set up to meet the unwanted guests."