Mission: Marriage. Karen Whiddon
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members.” Impatient, he held his arm out blindly. “Come on.”
A second later, her small hand slipped into his. They kept moving.
“Is it my imagination, or is it getting a bit lighter in here?”
“We must be getting close to the loading area. Keep going.”
More shots.
“Do those fools not realize bullets ricochet off concrete?” he said again.
“Apparently not,” Natalie answered, annoyance still evident in her voice.
“Why didn’t they move in before?”
She shook her head, making him realize he could see her. “I held them off. But you barely showed up in time—I was running out of ammo. Did you bring more?”
“You should always be prepared.”
She flipped him off. “That’s why you’re here. More ammo, another gun. The fact that you knew another way out is a bonus. Corbett did good, sending you.” Tossing her head, she gave him a narrow-eyed, go-to-hell look. “You do have more ammo, don’t you?”
He laughed, and saw her clench her teeth. A second later, he tossed her a couple of clips. Seething, she slammed one into her pistol. “Ready?”
He raised a brow. “For?”
“Moving out. Just in case the shooters have covered the back exit.”
“You plan on blasting your way out of here?”
“Yep.”
Once again she surprised him. The Natalie he’d known before would have wanted to stay hidden, hoping to pick them off one by one.
“Do you have any idea how many there are?” The cool, professional Sean was back. Astounded he might be, but he hadn’t survived this long in such a dangerous game by letting his personal feelings get in the way of his job.
She matched her tone to his. “There are at least two out front. One east, one west. Both armed with AK-47s.”
“Any idea who they are?”
“Does it matter? They want me dead. That’s all I need to know. Now, how much farther?”
They both heard the shouts and the sound of boots running on cement toward them.
“We’re over halfway there. Come on.” He took off. This time, rather than following, she kept pace with him. Side by side.
Another round of gunfire, closer. Chunks of concrete spewed from the wall to the left of them.
Close. Too close. They both knew it.
“Damn it.” Sean drew his weapon. “You go. I’ll hold them off.”
Ignoring him, she flicked off the safety and raised her gun. Leaning around the pillar, she aimed, waiting. An instant later, she squeezed off a shot.
Direct hit. The shooter’s body jerked, then nose-dived forward. “Got him. One down, a few more to go.”
He touched her arm. “They’re shooting blind. No way can they see us back here. Come on.” He took off.
She didn’t waste time arguing.
Left, then right, then right again. With each turn, the darkness lightened.
“Here we are.” Stopping, Sean pointed. “There’s the loading area. See how that one metal door moves in the breeze?”
“Listen. The shooting’s stopped. I wonder why?”
“Who cares?” He moved forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
She climbed onto the cement platform, staying close to the wall. Sean followed right behind her. When they reached the rusted metal door, she lifted one side and pointed toward a narrow alley between two tall brick buildings. “That looks like the only way out.”
“No. Too constricted.” Out of reflex, he grabbed her arm. “We’d be sitting ducks. There has to be another way.”
Again, she jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” Breathing hard, she glared at him, putting every ounce of loathing she could into her expression.
Grimly, he looked around. He lifted his hand to point and as he did, the remaining shooter fired off another round, narrowly missing him. “Damn it.”
“I don’t think we have a choice.” She jerked her head toward the opening. “Are you ready to make a run for it?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but a sound—metal striking concrete—grabbed his attention. For half a heartbeat, they both eyed the oblong metal object rolling across the floor toward them.
“Time-delay grenade!” he shouted, grabbing her and shoving her ahead of him. “Take cover!”
She needed no second urging. Sprinting for the nearest concrete divider, she dove behind the wall with him right on her heels.
The grenade exploded. Sean yanked Natalie into his chest, ducking his own head. Fire flashed and roared and the dilapidated building shook.
Dust and smoke and cement rained down on them.
Sean’s mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear for the ringing in her ears.
More gunfire. This, she could hear. The shooter—or shooters—were moving in, hoping the grenade had done the job.
Natalie looked at Sean. They didn’t need sound to know what the other was thinking.
“One, two, three … go.” Moving low and fast, they sprinted for the door. As they slipped through the unstable metal, bullets sliced into it where they’d been.
“Come on.” They took off running, guns at the ready.
“Something’s wrong.” Natalie didn’t like the way the pounding of their feet echoed off the alley walls.
“Too quiet.”
Then, into the silence, they heard another sound. The unmistakable click of the grenade launcher firing.
“Down,” Sean shouted, in the split second before the grenade hit to the left of them. It exploded on impact.
Natalie was thrown to the ground. Sean was lost somewhere in the smoke. Damn it, she thought as she struggled to stand up. It would be a crying shame for Sean to come back from the dead only to be killed on his first mission after. If anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be her.
At the exact instant she stood, squinting in the smoke and fire and dust, head pounding, ears ringing, looking for Sean, the concrete wall above her came tumbling down.
Chapter 2
“Natalie?” Sean couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. He inhaled, struggling for air. Concrete dust filled his lungs, making him double over in a racking cough. He should be grateful—at least this proved he was still alive.
What about Natalie?
He called her again, his voice barely rising above a croak.
“Sean?”
Alive! Muttering a quick prayer to the powers that be, Sean attempted to push himself up. Though he tried to harness the energy of the relief that had flooded through him at the sound of her voice, he couldn’t move. Blinded, disoriented and confused, he wasn’t sure why.
“Sean?”
“Over here.”
A volley of gunshots erupted. Those damned AK-47s, blasting a path toward them. Evidently, their pursuers had garnered reinforcements and were on their way to finish off what the grenades hadn’t.
He cursed again, struggling to lift himself off the concrete.
“Sean,