by Cindy Dees
Paige moved on to the third would-be assassin. This one’s gaze was riveted on the cottage, and he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to possible threats from behind him. She tsked. Tunnel vision. Bad habit for a guy like him to get into. Good luck for her, though.
She moved on her belly like a snake, easing forward inch by careful inch. She really needed another ten minutes to get into position, but she highly doubted she’d have it. She moved as fast as she could, dragging herself along by the elbows. Brambles caught in her hair and tore at it, making her eyes water from the sting. Dirt got in her mouth and down her shirt, but she dared not stop to spit it out. One of her sleeves ripped, and her forearm beneath it got scraped up, but doggedly she continued on, praying the smell of her blood wouldn’t attract any creatures more dangerous than the ones she already risked encountering up close and personal.
She raised her head slowly, looking for the third shooter. There he was, about twenty feet away, his back to her. How close did she dare get to him? She wanted to make it look as if he were shooting at his fellow policemen, but she needed to be far enough away from him that the return fire she was hoping to elicit wouldn’t kill her. At least not right away.
She studied the lay of the land between them. About halfway to him, there appeared to be a faint depression in the ground. Probably a small runoff gully for rainwater. It would have to do.
The leaves littering this stretch of jungle floor were alarmingly dry. She had to slip her fingers under them one at a time, fluffing them lightly before easing them aside. The tiniest of breezes ruffled the foliage overhead just enough to mask the faint sounds of her relatively hasty passage. If she had a couple of hours, she could make it over to that gully in total silence. But she had two, maybe three, minutes at most.
Fluff and slither. Sixteen feet from the shooter. Fluff and slither. Fourteen feet.
The little gully dipped away just out of arm’s reach when the shooter slid backward abruptly. He’d apparently been lying on a small rise, for he dropped down behind it and rolled onto his side, reaching for his calf.
Paige froze. One look in her direction from him. One twitch from her. That was all it would take for her to be dead meat.
The man massaged his leg vigorously, grimacing like he had a major charley horse. But after several moments, he rolled again to his belly and crawled back up the ridge.
Paige exhaled slowly. Whew. That had been close.
She thought she heard branches cracking and leaves rustling behind her. Damn. The main police force was on the move. She wiggled forward the last few feet, angling her body to lie lengthwise in the shallow depression, perpendicular to the shooter. Ideally, she would cover herself with leaves and dirt, but that amount of movement would surely alert the guy now only ten feet away from her. She wiggled in as best she could. The twigs and leaves and mud she’d accumulated in her crawl would have to suffice for camouflage.
She eased her shooting hand under her body and across her torso. Her elbow dug into her chest, and in a few seconds, her shoulder was protesting loudly But, when the police arrived, she would have to be on her side to shoot at them, and she would have at best a few tenths of a second to take the shots. She needed the weapon in position and ready to go.
She studied the jungle before her, straining to see as far into the black gloom as possible. It would be critical for her to spy the cops first before they spotted her. She figured she could get off three quick shots before the shooter turned around and took her out.
Neutralizing him would be a difficult shot. The soles of his feet were the most visible part of him at the moment. Hopefully, he would stand up to turn around and give her a bigger target. Otherwise, she was in for a tricky piece of shooting to stay alive. The good news was that any firefight between the two of them would be at very close range. And at the end of the day, she trusted the lightning fast reflexes the Medusas had trained into her.
A dark figure—a member of the larger police force closing in—moved in the blackness behind her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. From her prone position on her side, she took careful aim. And pulled the trigger.
The explosion of sound was deafening.
Her target dropped heavily—the distinctive collapse of a dead man rather than a controlled dive for cover.
She sprayed two more clusters of shots to either side of the now prone target, and prayed that sufficed to make everyone dive for cover. She rolled onto her back and over to her right side to face the shooter directly in front of her.
As she’d hoped, he’d leaped to his feet. His weapon was coming up to point at her. She squeezed off two quick shots so fast she wasn’t even conscious of aiming. Twin red rosettes blossomed in the guy’s forehead. A look of infinite surprise crossed his face, and then his legs collapsed like a marionette’s when the puppet’s lines went slack.
She jumped to her feet, whirling to fire at the mass of movement in the woods behind her. Damn! There were so many targets! She spotted at least eight men on the move. She sprinted to the east, crossing the field of fire and diving for cover behind a massive tree trunk.
Bullets sprayed around her, stripping chunks of bark off the tree. A rich smell of cinnamon permeated the air.
She dropped her empty bullet clip, slammed in a new one and sprinted toward the first shooter’s position, dodging and weaving as she went.
He was waiting for her.
A dull glint of gunmetal swung her way. She shot, her pistol an extension of her hand, and her hand an extension of her thoughts. She was stunned when the guy fell over backward, his semiautomatic weapon spraying a wild fusillade of bullets up into the jungle canopy.
Dang. She’d had no idea all those hundreds of hours on the firing range had made her such a good shot.
She careened forward, diving to the ground beside the dead shooter. She wrenched the weapon from his lifeless hands and held the trigger down, raking a spray of lead across the jungle behind her.
The underbrush lit up with muzzle flashes returning fire from at least a dozen different points.
And then the thing she’d been waiting for happened behind her. Somebody fired back at the police squad from over her shoulder. The caliber of the weapon was too heavy for the Medusas, who were armed only with pistols tonight.
The muzzle flashes shifted toward this new target. Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Paige took time to assume a sniper’s stance, prone on her belly and sight down the barrel of her weapon. She waited for the next muzzle flash in her field of vision and then fired.
She double tapped the trigger, sending out two rounds in quick succession. A voice cried out, then was silent. She took aim at the next firing position. She worked her way down the line of police, one of Tom’s would-be assassins also shooting at the same line of police.
Another weapon joined in firing from behind her at the police formation. Although the chaos before her probably no longer qualified as a formation. Men were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, diving for cover, popping up to shoot wildly at they knew-not-what and generally acting panicked.
Weakness into strength. Vanessa Blake was brilliant.
And then the shouting started—men screaming back and forth for identifications, yelling for help, more yelling for cease-fires. The radios must be completely useless by now if they’d resorted to shouting. Paige took aim at the locations of the voices and fired the last rounds out of the dead man’s weapon. When the trigger clicked harmlessly, she flung the weapon aside, jumped up and took off running again. Time to reduce the number of would-be assassins a bit more.
She headed for the last location of the first shooter, the one parked at the southeast corner of the house whom she’d circled wide of in the first place. She was sprinting hard, heedless of any noise she might make in the midst of a deafening gunfight, when the dark figure rose up in front of her without warning.
She had no time to dive for cover. No time to dodge the muzzle of the weapon
aimed directly at her gut. No time to do anything but register the black, cold gaze of a killer staring her dead in the eye.
Chapter 16
“Paige is retreating into the woods. I’ve lost visual on her,” Casey announced.
“Signal her back!” Tom exclaimed. “Tell her to leave the area or call the police or take cover! Don’t just leave her out there sneaking around on her own trying to be a one-man army!”
Casey glanced back at him sympathetically. “Make that a one-woman army. And she’s already gone.”
He swore long and hard, not bothering to keep it under his breath. Aleesha finally broke his string of invectives by chuckling.
“Ah, you gots it bad, boyo.”
He scowled at her.
Aleesha’s grin widened. Then she got back to business. “Okay. Everyone over here by the door. Cho, Casey, you hold your positions spotting. The rest of you cluster around Tom. Weapons at the ready. We’ll move out in standard formation. Tom, be prepared to run like hell. You go as fast as you can. We’ll stay in position around you.”
The question popped out before he could think about it. “Shouldn’t I take a little off my max speed so you can keep up?” Silence fell.
It was Naraya, the quiet Middle Eastern woman, who eventually answered. “Can you run faster than a 4.7 second forty-yard dash?”
He considered briefly. “Not anymore. I probably can’t break five seconds.”
Naraya replied gently, “Then we won’t have any trouble keeping up with you.”
Holy smokes. “Well, okay then. Full-out sprint for the trees, it is.”
Casey asked, “What are our fire orders?”
Aleesha considered for a moment. “You are green-lighted to return fire. You are also green-lighted to lay down suppression fire. Free fire only on my order.”
Speaking of an all-out firefight… “Anyone got a spare firearm for me?” Tom asked. “I’m feeling kinda naked here.”
Aleesha shook her head regretfully. “Sorry. We had trouble getting a lousy handgun for each one of us into the country. Your mission remains to keep your head down and make as small a target out of yourself as possible.”
Okay, now he really was alarmed. He was supposed to run out there into the middle of a hail of lead completely unarmed? To simply trust his life to these women he barely knew? A whole new understanding for the paranoia and reluctance of his former subjects of personal protection roared through him.
A popping sound from outside made him jump violently. That was gunfire. It wasn’t anywhere near as close as he’d expected, and it wasn’t nearly loud enough to be incoming fire to this location. But still. Who on Earth was having a gunfight out there that didn’t involve this cottage? Paige.
“I’m guessing that’s our signal,” Aleesha bit out. “Let’s go.”
Cho and Casey collapsed in on the group as Monica opened the front door. Naraya led the way with dark-haired Alex right behind her. They fanned out, weapons drawn, scanning the area as the rest of the team—with Tom crammed in the middle of them—surged through the opening.
To their right, a barrage of gunfire erupted without warning. It was still too distant to be aimed at them, but the volume of shooting was alarming. And Paige was in the middle of that? Tom’s brain threatened to vapor lock entirely. A visceral need to save her, to protect her, to make sure she came back to him safe and sound all but knocked him off his feet. Holy crap. Was this…
…love?
It sure as hell was something. And whatever it was, it was all but incapacitating him.
“C’mon, Tom! Pick up the pace!” Aleesha snapped.
He did automatically as she ordered. His body felt strangely disconnected from his brain, like one part of him was a robot following orders while the other part of him was flying through the trees, racing to join Paige wherever she was right now, wrapping her in a cocoon of invisibility and safety.
Come back to me alive, dammit.
Whether or not she heard his thought was anybody’s guess. But he sent it out to her over and over in a continuous and fervent stream.
The Medusas were as fast as advertised, dragging him toward the same pair of trees Paige had stood between a few minutes before. The sounds of gunfire were louder now. Coming closer.
A spray of automatic weapons fire erupted and at least a dozen weapons banged out return fire. A second spray of automatic fire exploded, followed by more return fire.
Please, God, let Paige not be caught in the middle of that. Let her be hiding somewhere safe with plenty of cover, well out of harm’s way.
Oh, wait. He was talking about Paige, here. She’d be in the thick of it, taking ridiculous risks and acting like she was completely bulletproof.
He amended his prayer. Please, God, save Paige from herself and bring her back to me safe and sound.
And then the tenor of the shots changed. Someone out there had spotted him and his bodyguards running across the lawn. The next fusillade of shots were much, much louder and definitely pointed this way.
And then a series of sharp pops erupted to his immediate right. The Medusas were returning fire. How in the world were they pulling off shots while running at this speed?
The trees loomed and Aleesha shouted, “Dive!”
He knew without having to ask that the command was directed at him. He took a flying leap, sliding into a mass of fallen leaves as slick as any major league baseball player stealing second base. Something hot and painful grazed his back. And then a heavy weight fell across him, smashing him flat.
“Sorry,” Casey grunted. “Just took one to the back and it knocked me into you.”
“You’re hit?” he exclaimed.
“Vest. I’ll live. Too bad we didn’t have a vest big enough to fit you.”
Holy Mother of God. She’d just taken that bullet for him. Bullet-resistant vest or no, the idea massively freaked him out. He had to get away from these women who would die for him if he let them. He had to find Paige. He had to do something other than be deadweight out here!
“Start crawling,” Aleesha ordered. “Head for the thick stuff.”
He knew exactly what she meant by that. He pulled himself along on his belly with his elbows, digging his toes in the dirt for extra purchase. Paige! Where are you? Please be safe, please be safe, please be safe….
Aleesha gave quiet orders from somewhere nearby for several of the Medusas to move ahead and scout the road while two more moved out to guard their flanks. He still wasn’t clear on exactly which insect or snake name went with which woman. But he didn’t suppose it mattered. They all seemed perfectly capable of handling anything that came at them.
A hail of gunfire exploded nearby, and Casey flattened herself on top of him again. That had been close. And then he heard the words every special operator most hated to hear. “I’m hit.”
It was Naraya, off to his right.
“How bad?” Aleesha called out low, already slithering in that direction.
He recalled hearing that Aleesha had been a trauma surgeon in her former life and was a hell of a field medic.
“You ambulatory?” Aleesha murmured. He couldn’t hear the low reply, but Aleesha’s next words were, “To me, ladies. We’re gonna have to carry her out.”
This was it. His opportunity to get away from them and go find Paige. If the Medusas were ever going to have a lag in attention on him, it would be in this burst of concern for their downed comrade. He knew. He’d lost men before, himself.
He eased away from the women a step. Another. And another. One more step and he’d reach a swath of deep shadow.
“You coming, Tom?” Casey murmured from well ahead of him now.
“Uh-huh,” he replied.
Another step.
He’d made it to the shadows. It was tempting to turn and run for it, but that kind of movement would attract the attention of the Medusas, who were crouching now in a group ahead of him, no doubt around Naraya.
He took several more soundless s
teps, sliding behind a bush smothered in thick vines of some kind. He couldn’t see the Medusas anymore. Which meant they couldn’t see him, either. He turned and ran.
He headed for the gunfire to his left. It had to be where Paige was. That woman drew fireworks to herself like a magnet drew iron filings. Probably why she was such a good reporter. She had an instinct for where the action would be. But it was going to get her killed if she wasn’t damned careful tonight. He’d been in dozens more firefights than she had. He knew how to live through one. He needed to find her. To make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, or worse, suicidal.
He zigzagged through the trees, moving fast until the gunfire sounded like it was twenty or thirty yards away. Only then did he slow down, shifting into stealth mode.
Where are you, Paige? Don’t die before I find you.
The man in front of her looked over her shoulder and abruptly turned and ran. What had he just seen? Cautiously, Paige looked back.
A rapid movement made her whirl and drop to her belly all in a single move. She whipped her weapon up into a firing position as a dark figure emerged from the trees at a dead run. She tracked the hostile’s movement across her field of fire, made the adjustment to lead his movement and began the smooth squeeze through the trigger.
The figure froze.
Dammit. She released the trigger at the last moment before she blew the guy’s head off. Where did he go? He’d just disappeared! Her blood ran cold. That had been the trick of an experienced warrior. Who was this new and highly skilled threat?
Without moving her head, Paige raked her gaze across the foliage, seeking better cover. She swore under her breath. None to be had. She was lying in the edge of a stand of tall, grassy weeds, an arm’s length away from a dead bush. She could slither under the bush, but there was no wind here, and the movement of the weeds would be impossible to hide. She was stuck out here, relying on her ability to remain perfectly still for whatever camouflage it could provide. And then she just had to pray that the new shooter didn’t have great eyesight and spot her lying out here just waiting to get picked off.
