Sharpshooter

by Cynthia Eden

  Gunner’s brows climbed. Had that plan been so obvious?

  “Yeah, I figured out that martyr bit earlier. Forget that. I’m going to assume that’s over now?”

  Sydney was pregnant. There was no way he’d leave her now. “I’ll always be there for my brother.”

  “And for her?”

  No one could make him leave Sydney. Last night, hell, he still couldn’t believe she’d opened her arms to him last night. That she’d given him such pleasure.

  Did it mean that she still cared? Just how much did she care?

  The real question...can I make her love me?

  “I’ll stay close to Sydney,” he said, trying to keep any emotion from his voice.

  Cale raked his face with his gaze, considering. “That was the order, right? Logan said you were to keep her at your side, and I’m to do backup duty, watching you both.” Cale’s stare drifted around the condo. “This isn’t the most secure place, you know. All of these windows...”

  But Gunner liked the windows. After he’d been held prisoner and tortured on a mission gone bad, he’d needed to find a place that let him look out and feel free.

  It was the same reason he’d helped his brother get settled in another nearby building. One that would give Slade views so that he knew he wasn’t trapped.

  Free.

  “Just know that I’ve got your back, man, okay?” Cale said. “I’ll be there for you and Sydney.”

  That was good to know. Gunner nodded.

  Cale hesitated. “Logan told you about the Guerrero file?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know...you and Sydney were on the list of EOD agents who were targeted for takedown.”

  Gunner rolled his shoulders. A few months back, Cale Lane hadn’t been working for the EOD. In fact, the EOD had been hunting Cale. They’d thought that he was responsible for the murders of three EOD agents.

  Cale was an ex-Ranger and an ex-mercenary. His psych profile had shown that he was prone to highly aggressive tendencies and that he could prove to be unstable.

  Too late, they’d found out most of that profile was garbage, and then they’d realized that Cale was being set up. They’d started working together, and they’d tracked down the real killer—a man who was systematically working his way through a list of EOD agents who needed to be eliminated.

  The killer had never had the chance to finish his kills. Never had the chance to take out Sydney or Gunner.

  “This could be related to those attacks. Guerrero, the EOD agent hits...it could all tie together,” Cale said, voice tight.

  Gunner nodded. He feared, suspected, the same thing.

  “If this is the case, then the EOD has one powerful enemy, one with a grudge against you and Sydney.”

  The bedroom door squeaked open. Gunner looked over his shoulder. Sydney was clad in jeans and a fresh shirt. She’d put on her sneakers and was coming toward them with a smile on her face.

  “You haven’t told her,” Cale murmured.

  No, not yet, he hadn’t.

  “Better update her on the way,” Cale said, “because Logan wants us all in for a briefing in an hour.”

  Figured.

  Sydney’s smile faltered. “Gunner? What’s going on?”

  He exhaled slowly. He’d never sugarcoated when it came to a mission. Of the Shadow Agents, Sydney was the best at gathering intel. There was nothing that woman couldn’t get a computer to tell her, so Gunner knew that Logan would want her in the office, working with the other techs to recover data and try to pick up a trail on the hacker.

  So he just told her the plain truth. “The EOD may have been compromised.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “And it looks like the breach came from the inside.”

  * * *

  SYDNEY HURRIED OUT of Gunner’s building, her steps too fast, but adrenaline was pulsing through her. First the arson at her house, and now someone had hacked into her file? Definitely a personal attack, and she wasn’t about to stand by and do nothing.

  She was going hunting.

  “I’ll follow you,” Cale said as he exited the building after them. Sure enough, she saw his car waiting a few feet down the road. Cale and his cars. The man loved the classic rides. His vintage Mustang was parked at the edge of the street. Gunner’s truck waited in his reserved spot. Being a special agent did have its perks, and having your vehicle close by in case of a government emergency, well, that was important.

  Sydney nodded. “Thanks, Cale, I’ll see you at the—”

  Gunner slammed into her. Sydney’s breath was knocked from her body as she tumbled toward the ground. Gunner twisted, trying to cushion her as she fell, and in that split second she just wondered...what the—

  A loud crack sounded.

  Gunfire.

  She reached for her own weapon, a weapon she’d taken from Gunner’s stash in the condo. Gunner had taken her down behind the truck, giving them cover behind that vehicle. As she pushed up into a crouch, his hands flew over her.

  “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

  Sydney gave a quick shake of her head. Not hurt, just mad.

  Another hit? In less than twenty-four hours?

  Gunner yanked out his phone. An instant later he was saying, “Logan, get a team on my street now. A shot was just fired.” His gaze glittered as it held hers. “It came from the northwest corner, the James Fire Building. I saw the damn glint of light right before the bullet came at Sydney.”

  Gunner was a sharpshooter, one of the best she’d ever seen, so of course he’d know where that shot originated.

  “Cale’s clearing civilians now, and you get that team here ASAP.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and yanked out the gun that had been holstered beneath his jacket. They’d both left the condo armed, just in case. When you knew you were being targeted, you never went anywhere without a weapon at your side.

  “I want you to stay down,” Gunner told her. “Stay behind this truck until backup arrives.”

  She knew what he was planning, and it was not going to fly with her. “While what? You race up to that building and face the shooter on your own?”

  “I can’t let him take any more shots! Civilians could be at risk.”

  The street had been nearly deserted when they came out. Just a young couple, walking down the sidewalk. Cale had gotten them clear, but what if someone else came out?

  “You need cover,” she told him. “I can provide it for you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re the target, and I’m not letting him take another shot at you.” His gaze dropped to her stomach. “Neither of you.”

  Her heart was racing too fast. “You can’t go in alone.”

  Sirens were wailing. Yes, thank goodness. Someone had called the cops—could have been someone from the building, could have been Logan. Logan knew how to get the local officials to instantly jump into action.

  “The cops are going to be here any second,” Gunner said as he tilted his head to listen to that approaching wail. “They’re going to scare the shooter off.”

  Because most shooters ran at the first sign of cops, except for the shooters who’d staged the attack to bring local enforcement into the danger zone.

  In Gunner’s eyes, she saw that same knowledge.

  “I have to make sure no one else is at risk.”

  Because he was Gunner. And that was just what he did. Sydney nodded grimly. “I won’t be able to give you much cover. He’s too far away.”

  Gunner pressed his lips to hers. “I just want you to stay safe.”

  Then he was gone. Damn him, he was rushing right out into the open. She lifted up, keeping as shielded as she could, and raised her gun. If she saw the glint of that weapon coming from the northwest, she would—

  There was no glint from a weapon. And the sound of gunfire didn’t break the stillness of this morning. Gunner kept to cover as much as he could as he ran toward the building.

  No shots were fired.

  S
ydney still didn’t relax her guard.

  She stayed there, armed, ready to do anything necessary if she saw Gunner get threatened.

  Soon the cops were pulling up and rushing toward her, rushing for the building on the northwest corner. Logan had already briefed them. Now it was just a matter of seeing if they could catch the shooter.

  She glanced toward the building. Gunner.

  * * *

  THE JAMES FIRE Building was abandoned, due to be demolished in just a few weeks so that a new apartment complex could be built in its place. Isolated, private, it was the spot that Gunner would have picked himself if he had to take out a target on the street below.

  So as he’d led Sydney to his truck, Gunner’s gaze had automatically risen to that building. A reflex act. He’d scanned the windows, then seen the glint—a glint that didn’t belong. He’d pushed Sydney to the ground.

  Just in time.

  He’d actually felt the bullet rip right past his skin.

  Now he was in the building, moving quickly but quietly, just the way his grandfather had taught him. The element of surprise was what he needed. If his prey was still inside, stupidly waiting for another shot...

  I’ll get you.

  But then Gunner heard the thunder of footsteps. His prey was running down the stairs. If he wanted to escape, the shooter had to take the stairs. The electricity in that place had been cut off weeks ago, and judging from where Gunner had seen that rifle glint, the man would have been up on the tenth floor.

  That was a whole lot of stairs to take. And if the man was armed with just that rifle, he wouldn’t be able to aim that thing well as he ran down the stairs.

  A grim smile curved Gunner’s lips as he started up the stairs. No rustle of clothing, no tap of his boots, no sound at all. Higher, higher, he climbed.

  Those rushing feet came closer and closer.

  Then he could see the man, his legs rushing fast down the steps.

  “Freeze!” Gunner roared. He wanted this man taken in alive. He wanted to know why he was targeting Sydney—or, more likely—why the guy had been hired to take the shot at her. Would the boss risk getting his hands dirty like this? Out in public, with a limited means of escape? Doubtful, but Gunner would make this man turn on his boss.

  The footsteps didn’t stop. Something heavy hit the stairs. A shot fired.

  Ricocheted?

  “I said freeze!” Gunner yelled. “Stand down! Stand—”

  The man was running toward him. Gunner didn’t see a rifle. The guy was sweating. His eyes were wild as he brought up his hands. Gunner saw the handgun gripped in the man’s shaking fingers.

  He’s not going to stop. The guy was desperate to escape, and he was about to shoot at Gunner. The man was ready to kill, in order to escape.

  Gunner didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger on his own weapon.

  * * *

  WHEN SHE HEARD the sound of the shots—two shots, fired closely together—Sydney started running toward the James Fire Building. Her heart was racing fast, adrenaline burning in her blood, and she had to get to Gunner.

  Cops were in front of her. Slowing her down. She wanted to shove them aside—so she did. Then she headed into the building with her gun up, ready to do anything she had to do in order to help Gunner.

  She found him on the stairs crouched over a body.

  Sydney didn’t lower her weapon. Her gaze swept over Gunner. No blood. No blood. No blood. The mantra repeated in her head until she could breathe normally again.

  “He wouldn’t drop his weapon.” Gunner’s voice. Flat. She lifted her left hand, curled it over his shoulder.

  The cops were there, fanning around the body. Gunner’s shot had been lethal, right to the heart.

  The man’s eyes were closed. His body lay sprawled and twisted on the stairs.

  “There’s a rifle, sir,” one of the cops said.

  Sydney lifted her head. She saw the young, uniformed cop pointing up the stairs.

  Gunner rose. “He ditched it when he came down the stairs. I heard him toss it. Then he...he pulled his backup weapon.”

  Gunner hadn’t been given a choice. She understood, just as she understood that it was never easy to take a life.

  Whether Gunner was following mission orders and taking out a threat through his scope or fighting an up close enemy, it wasn’t easy.

  Never easy.

  “Gunner?” she whispered, wanting him to look at her.

  His head turned toward her. His eyelashes flickered. She knew Gunner wouldn’t show emotion here. She’d seen him do this before. He shut down after a kill. Withdrew.

  That was the way Gunner worked.

  “I wanted to take him in alive,” Gunner said softly. “I wanted to find out why, to find out who’d sent him.”

  Because Gunner must think this was a hired killer, just like the mercenary who’d targeted the EOD agents before. She glanced back at the man. Early thirties, blond hair slicked with sweat. She didn’t recognize his face, had never seen him before.

  The EOD would find out everything they could about him. They’d run down his fingerprints. Analyze the scene.

  Her gaze flickered over him. There was a tattoo on the inside of the man’s wrist. A striking snake. They’d track that tattoo, too. They’d find out who this man was and why he’d been shooting at them.

  Gunner still held his gun in his right hand. Sydney tucked her own gun into the waistband of her jeans, then she reached for his weapon. “It’s over now.”

  But Gunner shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s just getting started.”

  * * *

  THERE WAS SO much blood on his hands. Gunner knew he’d never be able to wash all of that blood away.

  He was in the EOD office. He’d been questioned, cleared, briefed. The cops had handed their investigation over to federal agents—FBI personnel who would report their findings back to the EOD.

  “Gunner?”

  He turned to see Sydney standing in the doorway behind him. There was worry on her delicate features.

  “Are you okay?” Sydney wanted to know.

  He wasn’t the one with a bullet in his heart. He should have tried for a nonfatal shot, but the man had been aiming his own weapon right at Gunner’s head. There hadn’t been time to do anything but fire. “I just killed our lead.”

  She frowned, then shut the door. Then she was coming closer to him. “You just saved my life, that’s what you did.”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Why do you have such a hard time,” she asked him, tilting her head back to better study him, “ever seeing yourself as a hero?”

  “I do my job, Syd. That doesn’t make me a hero.”

  “It does to me.” She reached for his hands. The ones that had killed so easily before and, he knew, would again. He’d always been good at killing. “When I look at you, I see the man who saved my life today. The man who has saved me dozens of times in the field. You’ve saved so many. So don’t—” now an order snapped in her words “—ever see yourself as anything less, understand me?”

  She stared up at him, her bright eyes telling him that he was good. That he was worth something.

  The woman was going to tear him apart.

  A knock sounded at the door then. Sydney still held his hands. She didn’t let go.

  When the door opened and Slade stood there, Gunner wished she’d let go. He saw the flash of pain in Slade’s eyes, but his brother quickly schooled his expression.

  “I heard what happened.” Slade’s color was better. Not the pale mask of death that he’d looked like when he first came back to the U.S. “I wanted to make sure you were both okay.”

  Slade had been given clearance to come into the EOD office. Mercer wanted private updates with him, so Slade had access to some of the floors there.

  Gunner carefully studied his brother. Did he know this man now? Had he really known him before? “I’m okay.”

  Slade’s lips twisted. “Of course you are. Kil
ling has always been easy for you.” Slade’s words uncomfortably echoed Gunner’s own thoughts. “Aim and fire...” He laughed lightly. “Bet the guy never even saw you coming.”

  Gunner stiffened.

  “Killing isn’t easy for anyone,” Sydney said, voice stilted. “A life is a life.”

  “Yeah, but some trash just needs to be taken out every now and then, right? And this bozo who targeted you...” His gaze focused on Sydney’s face. “I’m glad he’s gone. I don’t—I don’t want you in danger.”

  Sydney pulled away from Gunner. Actually, she put her body between Gunner and Slade. Gunner was struck by the fact that...she’d always been between him and his brother. From the first moment he’d seen her and—wanted his brother’s girl.

  She’s not his any longer.

  “You heard about the fire, too?” Sydney asked.

  Slade nodded grimly. “What can I do? I want to help.” He waited a beat, stepped forward, then added, “I need to help.”

  “We’re not sure what’s happening yet,” Sydney told him, voice cautious. “Slade, we don’t want you putting yourself in danger. You just got out of the veterans’ facility. You need to recover more. You need—”

  “I need to get my life back.” The faint lines near his mouth deepened. “I’m not the kind of guy to sit on the sidelines. After two years, I need to get back in action. I want to be normal again. I want to be me.” His voice roughed. “Let me help, both of you. I want to help.”

  Gunner could see the struggle on his brother’s face, but he also didn’t want to put Slade back in harm’s way. Slade wasn’t in shape to handle any dangerous missions, no way.

  Slade straightened his shoulders. “I can help here, okay? In the EOD office. I can do grunt work, I can read through files. I can do something.”

  “Maybe you can,” Gunner agreed, because he didn’t want to hurt his brother’s pride. Hadn’t he already done enough to him? “We’ll talk to Mercer and see what can happen.”

  “Good.” Relief flashed in Slade’s eyes, then his gaze dipped to Sydney once more. “I’m so sorry.” A rasp had entered his voice. “Sorrier than I can ever say. I never, ever should have hit you.”

  She stared back at him. “You weren’t yourself.” Her words were flat.