by Zoe Dawson
Sky went down on top of him, and the two of them careened across the roof, heading for the edge, her heart in her throat. He scrambled to try to slow their momentum as they slid out of control. A low wall kept them from going over, but he couldn’t stop their slide, and they ended up jammed behind a ventilation unit in a tangled heap of arms and legs.
In the middle of scrambling to his feet, he suddenly froze, still on his knees, and pulled her tight against him with his gun hand, his other hand going over her mouth.
She heard it, too, the sound of someone approaching, footsteps crunching through the ice, slip-sliding every few steps.
He caught her gaze, his warning clear. Don’t move, not a muscle.
She gave a short nod and saw that the shoulder of his coat was torn, and blood, wet and slick, soaked the leather.
The second time he’d gotten shot for her.
She shivered with the awful thought that something would happen to him. This vibrant man who had done unspeakable things to keep her safe. This man’s skill and cunning was all that stood between him and certain death. They wanted her alive, but they would surely kill him in a blink of an eye.
Something inside her would die if that happened.
She stayed kneeling with him, facing him as he slowly and silently lifted his arm from around her waist and, with a one-handed grip, pointed the gun toward the opening they’d slid through. If anyone rounded the ventilation unit, they were going to be looking straight down the gun’s barrel.
She shivered with the aching cold. It had to be close to zero, the sleet changing over to snow falling in endless white waves from the sky as the Russians came closer.
Another shiver racked her. Her feet felt frozen in her boots, and she didn’t even want to think about her knees. Her ears were so cold they burned. Her teeth started to chatter.
Without a word, Vin removed his hand from her mouth and reached down to open his coat. In seconds, she was wrapped inside, his body heat soothing her skin.
She looked up at him, but his eyes were on that crucial opening, his muscles taut and ready. Her heart slipped and plummeted straight down to her toes. Something she’d never felt in all her life ached inside her. She looked up at him and knew courage, determination. She’d never be able to look at him again and not think this man was a hero.
A warrior.
Steadfast, tough and true.
She shivered, but this time the cold had nothing to do with it.
He put his mouth close to her ear, his warm breath sending sparks into her blood, and whispered. “I want you to stay here. Whatever you hear, whatever you do, do not move. Are we clear?” His voice was hard and unwavering.
She nodded.
He rose in one fluid movement, and his heat was gone. He moved to the end of the ventilation shaft, gave a quick glance around it, then looked back at her. There was that fierce look again, the one he’d had on his face when he’d killed the first kidnapper with his knife. He reached into his pocket and pulled that knife out and opened it.
He crouched and disappeared into the shadows and the blowing snow. Her heart felt crushed as she knelt in the frigid weather and didn’t move a muscle.
Sky stayed on her knees, stayed exactly as he told her to. He would come back for her. He would.
It’s what she’d believed when she’d been snatched from her parents. They had come back for her.
But she’d still lost them.
Chapter Five
He stepped around the ventilation shaft. The lingering feel of Sky wrapped around him, her shivering, her being in danger spurred him on. He had to get her off this roof, out of the cold and someplace safe.
There were three of them with those snub-nosed machine guns. Three semiautos to his one handgun. One of them peeled off, and that left two hanging around the ladder. Their only escape. He let the third man do his searching and flushing, the snow helping to give him some much-needed cover, the night black. It looked as if the power had been knocked out. No streetlights either.
When he and Sky had first burst through the door to the roof, he’d assessed in seconds the best place for that damn sniper they put on the roof as an insurance policy to take out anyone with Sky. It was just a matter of taking a bullet to the shoulder. But that had given him the guy’s location, and Vin’s dead-eye aim and the Sig had done the rest.
He’d been the best shot in his marksman class at Quantico. Best in the Corps. He was very glad about that tonight as he’d held her trembling body.
Vin still needed to up the odds more in his favor.
He also had a feeling there was another man lurking around, using the snow as cover just as Vin was using it. Even though he couldn’t see him, he could feel it in his bones.
His shoulder throbbed, but luckily there was no bullet lodged in there. It hadn’t quite grazed him, though. It was more of a through and through on the fleshy part of his shoulder, missing both the bone and the joint, thank God. He moved his arm and absorbed the pain. He wouldn’t let the agony impede him while Sky’s freedom was on the line.
Vin crept forward, crawling on the frigid roof to get as close as he could to the closest kidnapper. He would lose the cover of the snow, but by then he would be near enough to do lethal damage.
When he was only a foot away from the first guy, he rose up off the roof, grabbed him around the neck and dragged the knife across his throat.
The second man jerked around and brought up the semi, but Vin was already squeezing off two shots right to the guy’s heart.
The fourth man materialized out of the snow, and he had Sky. His arm was around her throat, and he was dragging her, her feet sliding along the roof. His first instinct was to charge at the man who had her, but he knew they weren’t going to hurt her. They wanted her alive. He tamped down his impulse to maim. He needed a cool head to get them out of this.
He squared his shoulders as the third man came running, but that wasn’t a good idea, as Sky and Vin had found out only minutes ago.
The kidnapper lost his footing. Going down hard, his body hurtled toward the fourth kidnapper and Sky. Sky was taken down as her legs went out from under her, and she hit the roof with a jarring thump. The move distracted the fourth guy as Vin took his own running start, and when that semi came up, Vin went to the deck, folding his leg under him. As he was propelled forward, sliding on his knee and shin, bullets whizzing over his head, he depressed the trigger rapid-fire. The guy dropped to the roof and lay still. Vin used one hand as a fulcrum to whip around and even as the third guy was scrambling to get up on the slippery ice, he put three into him, two to the heart and one in the head.
Ejecting his magazine, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another one and jammed it into the gun. He waited a couple of seconds to make sure these were the only guys around, but when there was no activity, he exploded into motion.
Certainly, there were more around, and the shots would bring them.
Rushing over to Sky, his heart pounding with more adrenaline, and concern with each rapid beat that she wasn’t moving, he reached down to her, but she was unresponsive. She must have hit her head. He couldn’t hang out until she woke up.
He crouched and lifted her into his arms, then slung her over his shoulder, capturing her legs with his arm and completely ignoring the searing pain that shot into his chest from his wounded shoulder. Behind him, he heard voices.
Taking off at a careful run, he headed for the north side of the building and the ladder rail he’d seen curving over the edge. There was no way to the street from the roof other than this access. And, the building next door would provide him with plenty of places to hide.
Now all he had to do was get down the ladder while carrying her, without dropping her or losing his grip or footing.
After all he’d been through tonight, that sounded like the easiest part so far.
Sky woke slowly. There was a pressure in her middle she didn’t understand, and she was swaying. When she opened her eyes, s
he found herself upside down and hanging from…Vin’s shoulder. She looked down and wished that she hadn’t. It was so, so dark and empty, her stomach twisted.
To top it off, he didn’t have his hands on her—anywhere. He was balancing her as he descended the ice-slick ladder.
She latched on to the back of his coat, and he wobbled a bit. “Whoa, there,” he said. “Slow movements, sweetheart. Nice and slow.”
Her frozen fingers gripped his coat with every ounce of strength she had left, which wasn’t much.
Her head pounded, and she remembered abruptly that she’d been caught and dragged out to where Vin was, but he’d already taken down two of the kidnappers. Then she’d been…knocked down. That last image she remembered was Vin, sliding on the ice and pumping the man who had been holding her with lead.
Okay, she might just have to reassess the whole hero thing.
More like superhero.
“Can you put me down?”
“Not yet. We’re still not out of the woods. They’re going to be coming down this ladder after us. They’re not going to give up. We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
He slipped on a rung, and her heart, which was already lodged in her throat, stopped for a long, painful second until he steadied himself.
It was a long, cold drop. Even squinting against the snow, she couldn’t see the end. He just kept moving at a quick pace.
She started to tremble deep down inside, her body shaking, and a strong arm immediately went around her legs—which meant he had only one hand left on the ladder. That made her stomach plunge.
“I’m not going to let you fall,” he said, his voice brusque but composed. She didn’t feel at all composed. She felt scraped and frozen and raw. Fifteen minutes ago, she’d been calm and warm, gratefully tapping away on her laptop.
Shit! Her laptop got left behind.
He stepped down off the ladder onto solid footing, and relief flooded through her. She hadn’t died…yet.
But nothing else was right. Nothing. The night had spiraled out of control—and the only thing that could keep her free of those men was staying reasonable and smart.
He bent his knees and gently pulled her off his shoulder, grimacing and groaning softly in pain. But he didn’t let her go. He supported her with his arms around her until she steadied. Her head was really hurting right at the temple.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.”
“Can you run?”
“Now you’re pushing it.”
Before she could say a word, he picked her up in his arms, clenching his jaw hard against what had to be more pain from his shoulder wound. He started moving into the half-finished building, taking the stairs, still not even breathing hard. She was still trying to catch her breath. She was so, so cold.
When he hit the street level, he paused and looked around.
There was the sound of sirens in the distance coming from different directions. The police. That gave her a measure of relief. Vin didn’t seem to care. He set her down, slipped his arm around her waist, and pulled his gun again. Keeping it to his side, he slowly started moving with her, his eyes darting everywhere.
As he approached the parking garage, he slowed and pressed them back against the wall until he had a moment to check everything out. Cautiously, he moved forward, and as they sprinted toward the car, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. There would be warmth and safety.
Then, out of nowhere, Death Head slammed into Vin and tore him away from her as she went spinning toward one of the parked cars. Her hip exploded with pain, and she gasped, trying to regain her balance.
She understood why he hadn’t used his gun. She and Vin had been way too close together. He must have been lying in wait here for them.
Vin brought the gun up, but the Russian hit a stunning blow to his wounded shoulder. Vin cried out and doubled over. Death Head knocked Vin’s gun away, and it went skittering under a car. He punched Vin in the face, and he flew back and hit the concrete pavement hard, the air exploding out of him in an audible rush. Death Head didn’t hesitate, he straddled Vin and grabbed him by the throat with both hands and started to squeeze.
Vin fought hard, going for the guy’s eyes and trying to break his hold. Still dizzy from getting her head slammed into a hard surface, she frantically looked around for something, anything to save him.
She saw a chunk of rock that had broken away from one of the parking barriers. She half shambled, half ran for it. Grasping it in her hand, she turned and rushed to him. Clasping the concrete in a tight knuckled hold, she slammed the rock into his head.
Death Head slumped forward onto Vin, who then pushed him off, gasping for breath.
Sirens blared, but Vin was up and grabbing her hand. He paused to reach for his gun, and then he was tugging her along to the car. Once inside, he started it and pulled out of the parking space. He drove for the exit, passing a cruiser coming in the opposite direction.
Gasping for breath, reeling from the sudden adrenaline and shivering from the cold, she reached for the heat with numb fingers. As he went around a corner, she saw the sign for the interstate out of Baltimore.
He drove through the wind-driven snow strafing across the windshield as the car warmed and her skin tingled and burned with returning feeling. She was starting to feel every bump and bruise.
She looked over at Vin, but he was focusing once again, looking tough and fierce as he drove, the bruises from Death Head’s hands discoloring the skin of his throat, the blood on his coat looking dark, almost black against the brown leather.
The heat didn’t seem to reach her or even begin to thaw the core of her, even though it blasted across her face. She was numb with panic. Terror was really too mild a word to describe the emotion that had taken hold of her heart.
“Wha-t-t-t are we-e-e going to-o-o do now?” She shivered uncontrollably.
“Run like hell.”
As soon as he saw the Walmart, he pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his forehead against the wheel. His throat hurt; his jaw and his shoulder hurt. The adrenaline rush was over, and that left a heavy, lethargic fatigue that ripped at him.
He needed patching up and sleep. A lot of sleep, but that wasn’t going to be possible for some time, so the next best thing would be caffeine. He knew exactly where they were going to go, and no one would know about it but the two of them.
The safe house had been compromised. How, he couldn’t know. But his only thought was it had to have been insider information. Now there wasn’t anyone he could really trust with the information of their whereabouts. Not even his boss.
That left only one thing to do. Run like hell, just like he’d told Sky.
Run and disappear.
When Vin raised his head and looked at her, she was staring at him, and two things registered in his tired brain. She was scared, so, so scared, and she was a lovely mess, her hair damp with snowflakes glistening and melting in the inky black, her cheeks pale, mascara smudged beneath her eyes—but still so beautiful it was all he could do to drag his gaze away from her.
Then as he stared at her something soft came into her eyes, and for a moment their gazes locked and the windows in the car fogged. He dragged his attention away.
Not good, he thought, taking in a deep breath that was full of pain, to his heart, his neck, his shoulder. The look in her eyes made his heart tremble and roll over. It could be that she was just grateful for what he’d done for her tonight. It could be that. He wanted it to be that so he wouldn’t have to think about what that look said to him. Because resisting her was getting tougher. He knew it was the right thing to do. But he’d made a tactical error, a rookie mistake. He’d already kissed her. He already knew what she felt like, tasted like. He was already a goner. The big, bad Marine was a fucking goner.
“Give me your phone.”
He wasn’t going to kiss her again, no matter what she looked like, how she looked at
him, no matter how poleaxed he felt. Hell, he could hardly breathe, and kissing her wasn’t what this was all about. She was a target. A designated target. She needed protection, and that was his mission, his assignment. Protect and serve. For his duty was all about the Navy’s best interest, a life put in his care.
A precious, brilliant life.
“What?” she said snapping out of that dazed look.
“Your phone.”
She looked at him but pulled it out of her pocket, setting it into his hand. His gut twisted with the depth of her trust. He pulled his out of his pocket and dialed.
He pushed the speaker. “Vin! Are you all right? Dr. Baang?”
“We’re both still alive, but a bit banged up.”
“You left more than enough bodies in your wake.”
“I did what I had to do.” His throat tightened, pressure building on the back of his eyes. He massaged them with his thumb and forefinger. “Chris, I’m sorry about Miller and Strong. They were good men.”
“They were good. But you all did your job and protected Dr. Baang. They gave their lives for her safety.”
Sky gasped softly, and he glanced at her. Her eyes glistened, and she covered her mouth, her face crumpling.
“Where the hell are you?” he said.
“Getting her out of Baltimore. Away,” he growled his voice thick.
“What? Bring her in to NCIS, we’ll get her to another safe—”
Anger streaked through him, settling into his gut. “No way, Chris! Someone gave away her position. Someone had to. There were only a handful of people who knew where she was. You need to get someone on that!”
“Don’t you argue with me, Special Agent Fitzgerald! Get your ass back here!”
His boss was reminding him who was in charge, but the Marines and NCIS had taught him that sometimes disobeying an order was the right course of action. The Navy was all about free-thinkers, and he was freaking free-thinking right now. “I’m ditching the phones,” he said with finality, and Chris swore again. “I’ll contact you when we’re safe.”
