CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
They spun around and Flynn's hand started for his g*n, then froze. Standing in the doorway to the treasure house was Cory. He was stripped to the waist and the black hair that covered his powerful body glistened with rain water. His jeans were low on his hips and a red rag was tied around his forehead. He was carrying a backpack with a CAR-15 slung over one shoulder while his heavy leather g*n belt held the big Magnum; his feet were encased in muddy black boots.
Beside him stood a snarling Timer, water dripping from his Stetson and running down his stringy blond hair. Behind them were two gringos, dirty and foul, each with a rifle pointed at Maria and Flynn.
Cory laughed at their surprise.
"Well, Ms. Maria, may I say that your map was very accurate? I’m so glad we a
