yourself that you’re going to spend the next eight years and all the years after that hiding out from your demons, pretending you don’t care, pretending you don’t have an obligation to Taggart and Cooper. Pretending that you don’t have an obligation to yourself, for God’s sake! And what about to your country?”
She cut way too close to the quick with that one. “Are you fucking kidding me? You seriously played the patriot card?” He’d been sold down the river by the very people he’d pledged to protect and serve and almost died for. “I’ve paid that debt. One hundred times over. Try a new tactic, chica , ’cause that dog ain’t gonna hunt.”
“Fine. Then let’s try something you can relate to,” she said acidly. “I’ll pay you to help me.”
He considered how badly she hated him in this moment. It was never more evident than now as she lay there, tied up and helpless, yet making her best play to kill him with her disgust.
He thought about all the reasons he should tell her to fuck off, stay out of his life and out of his head. But the words that came out sealed his fate.
“Well, now. You’re finally talking my language.” She’d barely had a chance to register surprise, when he reached into his boot and retrieved his jackknife.
And he’d barely sliced the blade through the plastic cuffs, freeing her, when he heard a sound outside on the terrace that shot all his defenses to red alert.
• • •
Eva heard it, too. Someone was out there.
Her heart went crazy but she held it together and nodded that she understood when Brown pressed his fingers to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. When he pointed to the floor behind the bed, she didn’t hesitate. She rolled off the bed and dropped to her knees, using the mattress as the only available shield as Brown rushed back across the room to the table where their guns lay side by side.
He grabbed both and tossed her the Glock. She caught it and checked to make certain there was still a round in the chamber as, two-handing his Beretta, Brown moved like a big cat toward the wall beside the terrace door. He’d no sooner gotten into position, his back flattened against the wall, when the doors flew open and a masked figure burst into the room wielding an MP5K.
Eva scrambled toward the foot of the bed as the gunman fired a three-round burst at the pillow where her head had been.
She slid to her back and started firing at the same time she heard Brown’s Beretta pop off several rounds in quick succession.
The barrel of the MP5K jerked toward the ceiling as the gunman stumbled backward out of the roomand fell against the iron rail on the terrace. Brown shot outside after him as Eva scrambled to her feet and raced across the room to the terrace.
Brown was leaning over the railing when she reached his side. Her stomach rolled when she saw the scene down on the street. Their would-be assassin had fallen backward onto the roof of a cab. His prostrate body lay motionless in the dim light from the streetlamp as the startled driver scrambled out from behind the wheel.
“You okay?” Brown turned to her.
Her ears rang like church bells. Other than that, she was fine. “Yeah. I think so. You?”
His answer was a grunt, which pretty much told her that other than his attitude, he was fine. “Friend of yours?”
“I told you I was being followed.”
He sprinted past her toward the door that led to the hallway. “Shut those balcony doors. Keep your Glock close and don’t let anyone in this room but me.”
She didn’t have to ask where he was going. He was heading down to check the body. As he left, she ran inside and locked the doors to the terrace. Then she wedged herself into the corner facing the hall door, sank down to her butt, and propped the Glock on her updrawn knees. And she waited. Heart going hay-wire, her breath tight and strained. She’d trained for such a scenario all of her career—but this was the first real encounter
She cut way too close to the quick with that one. “Are you fucking kidding me? You seriously played the patriot card?” He’d been sold down the river by the very people he’d pledged to protect and serve and almost died for. “I’ve paid that debt. One hundred times over. Try a new tactic, chica , ’cause that dog ain’t gonna hunt.”
“Fine. Then let’s try something you can relate to,” she said acidly. “I’ll pay you to help me.”
He considered how badly she hated him in this moment. It was never more evident than now as she lay there, tied up and helpless, yet making her best play to kill him with her disgust.
He thought about all the reasons he should tell her to fuck off, stay out of his life and out of his head. But the words that came out sealed his fate.
“Well, now. You’re finally talking my language.” She’d barely had a chance to register surprise, when he reached into his boot and retrieved his jackknife.
And he’d barely sliced the blade through the plastic cuffs, freeing her, when he heard a sound outside on the terrace that shot all his defenses to red alert.
• • •
Eva heard it, too. Someone was out there.
Her heart went crazy but she held it together and nodded that she understood when Brown pressed his fingers to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. When he pointed to the floor behind the bed, she didn’t hesitate. She rolled off the bed and dropped to her knees, using the mattress as the only available shield as Brown rushed back across the room to the table where their guns lay side by side.
He grabbed both and tossed her the Glock. She caught it and checked to make certain there was still a round in the chamber as, two-handing his Beretta, Brown moved like a big cat toward the wall beside the terrace door. He’d no sooner gotten into position, his back flattened against the wall, when the doors flew open and a masked figure burst into the room wielding an MP5K.
Eva scrambled toward the foot of the bed as the gunman fired a three-round burst at the pillow where her head had been.
She slid to her back and started firing at the same time she heard Brown’s Beretta pop off several rounds in quick succession.
The barrel of the MP5K jerked toward the ceiling as the gunman stumbled backward out of the roomand fell against the iron rail on the terrace. Brown shot outside after him as Eva scrambled to her feet and raced across the room to the terrace.
Brown was leaning over the railing when she reached his side. Her stomach rolled when she saw the scene down on the street. Their would-be assassin had fallen backward onto the roof of a cab. His prostrate body lay motionless in the dim light from the streetlamp as the startled driver scrambled out from behind the wheel.
“You okay?” Brown turned to her.
Her ears rang like church bells. Other than that, she was fine. “Yeah. I think so. You?”
His answer was a grunt, which pretty much told her that other than his attitude, he was fine. “Friend of yours?”
“I told you I was being followed.”
He sprinted past her toward the door that led to the hallway. “Shut those balcony doors. Keep your Glock close and don’t let anyone in this room but me.”
She didn’t have to ask where he was going. He was heading down to check the body. As he left, she ran inside and locked the doors to the terrace. Then she wedged herself into the corner facing the hall door, sank down to her butt, and propped the Glock on her updrawn knees. And she waited. Heart going hay-wire, her breath tight and strained. She’d trained for such a scenario all of her career—but this was the first real encounter
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