Targeted (21 page)

For a single moment, everything around them quieted. Then another shot rent the air. People screamed and scattered in every direction. Next to him Sophie crouched against the glass window of the store, as if the act could make her smaller.

“There are kids in the shoe store.”

“There are kids everywhere.” He knew what she meant, though. She didn’t want to inadvertently lead the shooter to a bunch of children.

Jack kept scanning, then narrowed his gaze on the same man with the sunglasses he’d seen earlier as he stepped out from behind a kiosk. He had a pistol in his hand, raised above his head as he looked around. At least he’d fired into the air.

Hating the situation and the crowd, Jack raised his weapon. He would only get one shot at this.

The man saw him too late. As he drew his weapon down, Jack fired once. It hit the stranger right between the eyes. The impact from the bullet slammed the guy back a foot, but Jack turned before he’d hit the ground.

One shot, one kill. Best way to deal with a problem like this.

Thanks to the sunglasses, Jack couldn’t see Sophie’s eyes. If she was disgusted, he didn’t want to know.

Following a cluster of screaming women and children, they turned right at the end of the west side shops. “We’ve got to make it to the parking garage. We can steal another car.”

“Sounds good to me,” she panted as they started running again.

They raced parallel to the brick wall until they reached the east side of the shops. Peering around the corner, he saw more people running in all directions, most of them screaming.

He’d never understand that reaction. Screaming did nothing but complicate any situation. And it made you a bigger target. Stupid.

But it also made it easier for him to pick out who didn’t belong. One man was crouched low, with one hand balanced on the side of a hot dog stand and the other holding a gun at his side. He had dark hair, sunglasses, and he was turned in profile to Jack.

Unfortunately his position was also right on their path to the parking garage and there was no other way to get there. Jack hated opening fire in a crowded place, but there was no time to second-guess himself. Not when he needed to get Sophie to safety.

“We’re going to head east.” He motioned, pointing toward the garage. “I’m going to run in a straight path and you are going to stay directly behind me. Do you understand? Right behind me.”

“Got it.”

He nodded, glad she was so calm. Lifting his pant leg, he grabbed his backup weapon and handed it to her. “If I’m hit, keep running. Do not fucking stop for me. You make it to the garage. I don’t care if you have to carjack someone, get to safety and call Wesley. Understand?”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

He blinked in surprise. Unwilling to argue, he peered around the corner again. The guy was still there and the majority of the crowd was gone. They were losing any cover they might have. There was no time to argue. “Stay close,” he ordered as they stepped out from their hiding place.

They’d made it ten paces when the man spotted them. He started to push up from his crouch, raising his gun as he moved, but Jack had the element of surprise. Still moving, he fired twice. Once in the head, once in the chest for good measure.

Sophie gasped next to him, but it was the only sound she made. Seconds later, they rushed through a side door to the first floor of the parking garage. Screeching tires peeled through the air as people tried to escape. In the chaos it was a hell of a lot easier to steal a car. After only a minute of searching, he found an older-model truck. It didn’t have tinted windows, but it would do and it was easy to hot-wire.

It took another whole minute to get the hell out of the garage. And he lost a decade of his life worrying about getting Sophie out of harm’s way. They exited onto Biscayne, and only then did he allow a small sliver of relief to slide through him. He turned left and headed toward Third Street, then took a sharp right.

“Next time I give you an order, you do it.” He hadn’t meant the words to come out so harsh, but his heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. If he’d been hit and Sophie had actually stuck around—the thought terrified him. He was so used to being in control, and so far she’d been fairly cooperative. He knew it was because she didn’t have any other options, but he’d expected total compliance.

“Fuck that,” she snapped, the outburst taking him by surprise. “I’m not a soldier and you’re sure as hell not my boss. If I agree, hell yeah, I’ll follow orders, unless your order is stupid. And telling me to actually leave you behind is
stupid
.”

An unexpected laugh escaped. The timing was inappropriate and he shocked himself, but hearing her curse and yell at him after what had just happened soothed a dark part of him.

“Is that funny to you?”

“No. Damn, Soph. That temper of yours . . .” He trailed off when she stilled.

It was subtle, but her hand tightened on the weapon resting in her lap and he was pretty sure she stopped breathing for a moment.

“What?”

“Nothing. What do we do now?” Her voice wavered slightly, but he pushed past it. Hell, he couldn’t blame her after everything that had just happened.

“Find a safe house and hole up until you have to meet Ronald tonight.” And get the hell out of this area.

Sirens blared in the distance and Jack knew that soon the local cops would be swarming the place and probably putting up roadblocks. They needed to be long gone by the time that happened.

Infiltration: the secret movement of an operative into a target area with the intent that his or her presence will go undetected.

Sophie jumped as the bang against the wall from their neighboring motel room reverberated through their crappy room. Of course, the bang was followed by a string of obscene curses.

She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Jack had picked the
worst
pay-by-the-hour motel in Little Havana. When they’d first arrived it was still daylight, and in the daytime it wasn’t so bad. But it was nearing dusk and she was fairly sure their “neighbors” were either dealing drugs or engaged in some sort of prostitution ring. Probably both. People had been coming in and out of their room all afternoon, and some of the noises had been revolting.

Earlier she’d tried to buy crackers from the vending machines, but had quickly returned to the safety of their room after a couple of men had asked what her “price” was. Apparently something about her jeans and sweater screamed
hooker
. It didn’t matter that Jack had given her a gun, she’d still felt incredibly exposed outside.

“When are we leaving?” she asked again, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice this time.

Jack was lounging on one of the double beds and doing God knew what on his laptop, but he looked up when she spoke. For the briefest moment, those pale eyes darkened as he raked an appreciative gaze over her breasts. He got this little smile when he looked at her, as if he was remembering something. She wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. Damn it, the look was so . . . familiar that it jarred her straight to her core. Combined with the way he’d called her Soph in the truck earlier, it put her on edge. More and more he was reminding her of Sam.

Which was insane.

It made her feel unbalanced. She’d done fine not thinking of him for years—or at least locking her thoughts down. Now her life had gone to shit in a matter of days, she didn’t know who to trust, her best friend still hadn’t checked in—which was eating Sophie alive inside every second that passed—and she had scorching thoughts of Sam almost every time she looked at Jack.

“Give me five minutes,” he murmured as he looked away.

“You keep saying that. We need to get out of here. This place is creepy.” Gross-looking brown stains were on both bedspreads, so she’d been relegated to sitting at the small table or pacing the room. To entertain herself she’d been figuring out what the stains resembled, almost like watching clouds at the beach. Only a lot grosser.

Jack had been very quiet, constantly working on his computer and not telling her anything unless she asked him a direct question. Which was incredibly annoying. She could almost swear he was purposefully ignoring her. After they’d barely escaped from those two shooters—and her insides were still quaking over that—she guessed that the reason he’d picked such a crappy place to hole up was that cops wouldn’t frequent it. Not unless called. And considering that everyone she’d seen looked like they were up to something illegal around here, no one in their right mind would be calling.

He typed some more into his computer, then looked up again. “If it makes you feel better, Homeland Security won’t need to talk to you anymore.”

Oh yeah, that made everything better. She held off on the rude comment because it wouldn’t help and it made her feel petty. “Why not?”

“My boss made some calls. They’ll be easing off SBMS until the NSA knows more about what’s going on.”

“Good.” She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d actually forgotten about Homeland Security. There were too many other things running through her mind.

He swung his legs—his very sexy, muscular legs—off the side of the bed and snapped the laptop shut. “Bring everything with you because we’re not coming back here.”

“Thank God.”

The hard lines of his lips softened at the corners. “This place isn’t
that
bad.”

“The fact that you say that scares me. What kinds of places have you stayed in?”

Something dark crossed his face before he schooled his features. All traces of that smile were gone. Immediately she regretted what she’d said even if she’d only said it to lighten the atmosphere. Turning, she grabbed her sad little plastic bag of clothes and the hat with the sequined flamingo on the front and headed for the door.

“You can leave the hat,” he said quietly behind her as he gathered his things.

“I know.” The hat was impossibly tacky, but she was going to keep it because Jack had given it to her. It didn’t matter that it had been part of a disguise. Some weird part of her wanted it. When she looked back at him, he had a guarded look on his face, but he didn’t respond. Just palmed the keys to the most recent SUV he’d stolen.

The man was certainly good at that, and while she didn’t want to be impressed by his thievery, watching him in action was pretty hot. Once they were out of the stale-smelling room and heading toward SBMS, she thought she’d feel better. Instead she was terrified at the prospect of facing her boss. Which was so ludicrous she almost laughed out of sheer nervousness. She was with one of the most dangerous men she’d ever met, yet she was scared of seeing her boss, a man she considered a dear friend. She still couldn’t get the images of Jack shooting those guys out of her head. He’d been so focused, so lethal.

“If we run into any problems with SBMS’s security, your only priority is to get out of there. I’ve watched these guys and they’re not going to use lethal force, so no matter what, don’t wait for me if you have a chance to get away.” Jack glanced in the rearview mirror as they pulled out of the motel parking lot.

She sighed. “I thought we’d been through this. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Sophie—”

“Don’t you ‘Sophie’ me. Having this argument is pointless and one you’ll absolutely lose. . . . Would you leave me behind?”

“Never.” He shot her a hooded look and for a moment, she thought he’d continue arguing, but he returned his attention to the road. “You’re going to call your boss at a quarter till seven and tell him the meeting time has been changed. Then—”

“Jack, I know all this. We’ve been over it a hundred times.” She hadn’t just sat around in the motel room. When he hadn’t been on his computer, they’d been going over “the plan,” and it wasn’t hard to remember.

“You can back out of this if you’re not ready.”

“Isn’t it your job to give me a pep talk or something? Not make me second-guess myself?” She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified right now, and having him question her was freaking her out even more.

His lips pulled into a thin line. “I just want you to know we can figure something else out if you’re not comfortable.”

Sophie tightly clasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles turned white. “The weapons are bad enough, but if Ronald is really helping terrorists, I can’t sit back and do nothing. Actual biological warfare on our soil . . . do you know how far-reaching that could be. Hundreds of thousands of people could die,” she said before he could respond, mainly because he would know better than her. “Not to mention someone tried to kill me and I know Ronald knows more than he’s letting on. Did you check your voice mail again?” She wasn’t sure why she was asking when she knew the answer would shred her up inside.

“Yes.”

Sophie dug her fingernails into her palms, hoping the pain would distract her. Hannah obviously hadn’t left a message or he would have told her. She was supposed to have called his number to let them know where she was.
Hours ago.
Even though Jack’s phone was turned off, her friend would have left a message. She’d promised. There could be any number of reasons that Hannah hadn’t called. Some were harmless, but Sophie kept picturing the worst possible outcomes for Hannah not getting in touch with her. Clearly someone wanted Sophie dead. What was to stop them from using Hannah to get to her? It wasn’t as if she had many close friends, and it was no secret how tight they were. Unfortunately Hannah didn’t know where she was, so even if someone wanted to . . . torture her or something, she had no information. Sophie’s stomach lurched and she forced her morbid thoughts to quiet for the moment. She wouldn’t do anyone any good if she had a breakdown right now. “Can I use one of your phones?”

“Why?”

“I want to call Hannah’s work.”

After he handed it to her, Sophie quickly dialed the number to Hannah’s sector of the hospital before he could change his mind.