shift an inch. His lips moved as he whispered something into Smyth’s ear.
“ If this were prison, soldier, you would be my boy.”
The three fighters struggled hard, locked into position, as precious seconds flew by. When Komodo approached the tableau, the albino only grinned. “C’mon, boy, I’ll take you too.”
But then Kinimaka broke it all apart by hitting the albino with a waist -high tackle. Hayden was flung aside. Smyth hit the floor hard. The albino cracked his head against a pillar and looked stunned. Kinimaka pushed away.
“We gotta go!”
In an instant they had turned and were sprinting for the exit. The albino shook his head to clear his daze. His men picked their way through the display wreckage, bruised and bleeding, and searching for lost weapons. Hayden pushed the rest before her. She was now the only one with any ammo, and needed to cover the escape. For precious seconds they ran unhindered, seeing the double exit doors loom closer with every step. Blackness pressed hard against the glass and people strolled along the broad expanse of Pennsylvania Avenue outside. More than escape, it offered divine freedom. She couldn’t believe they had all escaped this latest skirmish intact.
Hayden risked a glance back. The albino was drawing a bead on her, one eye closed. She saw his wrist flex, then felt the punch of the bullet as it struck.
She staggered, gasping. Ahead, Kinimaka turned, eyes suddenly wider than she had ever seen and burning with fear. Hayden put a hand to her waist, but felt nothing. Her legs were still working.
“Jesus,” she breathed at him. “Must have ripped right through my jacket.”
Kinimaka breathed deep and reached for the swinging exit doors. Cold air flowed into the mall.
Hayden slowed. The gun cracked again and this time she felt the bullet as it punched through her abdomen, felt the gout of blood explode from her body, felt her nails rip as she grasped desperately for Kinimaka and missed, falling hard to the cold mall floor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kinimaka ducked as another bullet passed close to his head. With one heave he managed to lif t Hayden’s inert body and drape it over one of his massive shoulders. He knew full well what was happening here. He had heard the albino’s comment ‘The Blood King sends his regards’, and knew time was of the essence. He should get word to his family right away, but Hayden was his closest family now and she needed him.
They rushed out of the mall into the cool night. The bright lights of Pennsylvania Avenue bathed them in stark unreality. Life wasn’t about eye-catching colors, provocative billboards and gleaming cars. It was struggle and desperation and momentary bursts of pure pleasure. It was dirty, unforgiving and ever-changing.
Komodo dashed out into the middle of the road, stopp ed a car and hauled out the driver. Without ceremony, the rest of the team piled in, Kinimaka holding Hayden across his lap. She was still breathing, and he kept every emotion reined in as the world passed him by.
“Nearest hospital?” Komodo cried.
“Needs to be secure ,” Smyth rasped, unaccountably calm.
“ There’s a military hospital on Georgia,” Karin said, her eidetic memory useful as ever. “Should be well guarded.”
Kinimaka passed his cell over to her. “Call them, and call Langley too. If they have any men to spare , we’re gonna need them.”
Smyth turned to him. “You think this thing ain ’t over?”
Kinimaka cradled the unmoving head of his girlfriend. “ I think it’s far from over.” He was about to continue when Karin cursed out loud.
“What is it?”
Instead of answering, shocked into silence and with tears suddenly bright in her eyes, Karin turned up the radio. The broadcast filled the car.
“. . . and to recap, reports suggest that the Secretary of Defense, Jonathan Gates, has been killed in Washington DC tonight. Though the authorities remain quiet, eye witness accounts speak of a professional
“ If this were prison, soldier, you would be my boy.”
The three fighters struggled hard, locked into position, as precious seconds flew by. When Komodo approached the tableau, the albino only grinned. “C’mon, boy, I’ll take you too.”
But then Kinimaka broke it all apart by hitting the albino with a waist -high tackle. Hayden was flung aside. Smyth hit the floor hard. The albino cracked his head against a pillar and looked stunned. Kinimaka pushed away.
“We gotta go!”
In an instant they had turned and were sprinting for the exit. The albino shook his head to clear his daze. His men picked their way through the display wreckage, bruised and bleeding, and searching for lost weapons. Hayden pushed the rest before her. She was now the only one with any ammo, and needed to cover the escape. For precious seconds they ran unhindered, seeing the double exit doors loom closer with every step. Blackness pressed hard against the glass and people strolled along the broad expanse of Pennsylvania Avenue outside. More than escape, it offered divine freedom. She couldn’t believe they had all escaped this latest skirmish intact.
Hayden risked a glance back. The albino was drawing a bead on her, one eye closed. She saw his wrist flex, then felt the punch of the bullet as it struck.
She staggered, gasping. Ahead, Kinimaka turned, eyes suddenly wider than she had ever seen and burning with fear. Hayden put a hand to her waist, but felt nothing. Her legs were still working.
“Jesus,” she breathed at him. “Must have ripped right through my jacket.”
Kinimaka breathed deep and reached for the swinging exit doors. Cold air flowed into the mall.
Hayden slowed. The gun cracked again and this time she felt the bullet as it punched through her abdomen, felt the gout of blood explode from her body, felt her nails rip as she grasped desperately for Kinimaka and missed, falling hard to the cold mall floor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kinimaka ducked as another bullet passed close to his head. With one heave he managed to lif t Hayden’s inert body and drape it over one of his massive shoulders. He knew full well what was happening here. He had heard the albino’s comment ‘The Blood King sends his regards’, and knew time was of the essence. He should get word to his family right away, but Hayden was his closest family now and she needed him.
They rushed out of the mall into the cool night. The bright lights of Pennsylvania Avenue bathed them in stark unreality. Life wasn’t about eye-catching colors, provocative billboards and gleaming cars. It was struggle and desperation and momentary bursts of pure pleasure. It was dirty, unforgiving and ever-changing.
Komodo dashed out into the middle of the road, stopp ed a car and hauled out the driver. Without ceremony, the rest of the team piled in, Kinimaka holding Hayden across his lap. She was still breathing, and he kept every emotion reined in as the world passed him by.
“Nearest hospital?” Komodo cried.
“Needs to be secure ,” Smyth rasped, unaccountably calm.
“ There’s a military hospital on Georgia,” Karin said, her eidetic memory useful as ever. “Should be well guarded.”
Kinimaka passed his cell over to her. “Call them, and call Langley too. If they have any men to spare , we’re gonna need them.”
Smyth turned to him. “You think this thing ain ’t over?”
Kinimaka cradled the unmoving head of his girlfriend. “ I think it’s far from over.” He was about to continue when Karin cursed out loud.
“What is it?”
Instead of answering, shocked into silence and with tears suddenly bright in her eyes, Karin turned up the radio. The broadcast filled the car.
“. . . and to recap, reports suggest that the Secretary of Defense, Jonathan Gates, has been killed in Washington DC tonight. Though the authorities remain quiet, eye witness accounts speak of a professional
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