Page 19 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

Towering over her, the leader yelled at his man and gestured at her. Peter stood a few steps behind him, struggling in the grip of three terrorists, bellowing in rage and glaring at the man who attacked her, murder in his eyes.

With a final shout and abrupt toss of his arm, the leader sent her attacker away. Then he glanced down at her for a moment, smiled hideously, turned on his heel and left.

“Are you all right? Georgia!” Peter’s shout made her jump, but she didn’t answer him. Her throat was too clogged with fear and unshed tears.

Peter threw one man off, a punch to the head sending him crashing to the ground. The other two tried to restrain Peter, but he avoided their hands and kicked another in the chest. This one fell to his knees, gasping for air. Peter turned; fists balled to attack the last man in his way.

“Enough!” the leader roared.

Peter froze. The leader had the muzzle of a handgun pointed at his head.

Peter’s gaze moved and focused on her face, his eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly. Primitive, red-hot rage radiated from him and it seemed to get hotter as he looked at her huddled against the wall. Georgia knew with complete clarity that he would keep fighting if she didn’t give him some indication, she was all right.

She blinked and gave him the barest of nods. That must have satisfied him because he seemed to pull back on himself, as if he’d suddenly regained the reins of his stampeding self-control. He raised his hands in surrender and allowed the three men who originally held him to seize him once more. They pushed him out of the room.

Georgia dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. There was no one else she could stand to look at, no one else she could bare to see. After a few seconds, the sound of footsteps ceased and she glanced up quickly, new fear making her head bob and jerk. But they were gone, leaving her alone in the room with Uncle Theo.

She heard a high-pitched wheeze, and it took her a minute to recognize it was coming from her own throat. Taking several shaky breaths, she climbed up on her knees, shoving her skirt down her thighs.

She stared blindly at Uncle Theo’s back and the bloodstain on the carpet for a long moment.

She was alone in the room with her uncle.

The realization hit her like a blow to the stomach, staggering her ability to think, to breathe. Escape beckoned, taunting her with a view through the other door. It led to a small, private sitting room and another exit to the hall and the stairwell. She could get away from these animals, these men with their groping hands and foul breath, and hide. It wouldn’t be hard. There were lots of places in the basement, she’d just go back there and—

Uncle Theo groaned, dragging Georgia’s attention away from her scurrying thoughts. She moved closer to check on him. Her jacket was soaked through with blood. Icy realization splashed over her. If she ran away, he would die.

Peter’s voice rose slightly in the other room, the odd swear word clearly audible. What would they do to Peter?

They would kill him, too.

Running away was not an option.

After wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, she took a good look around. She had to find something else to wrap around that bullet wound before her uncle bled to death. Damn, if only they had curtains instead of Venetian blinds covering the windows.

She glanced back at her uncle and her eyes latched onto the black leather belt around his waist. She could use it to put extra pressure on the wound.

Kneeling next to him, she unbuckled it and pulled it free from the loops. Then she slipped it around her uncle’s thigh, securing it tightly. He groaned and opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Georgia said as she ensured that the belt wouldn’t slip or loosen. “But you’re still bleeding, and I had to do something to stop it.”

“It’s...all right,” Uncle Theo gasped. His face white with pain and blood loss. “How long was I unconscious?”

“I...don’t know. Only a few minutes, I think.”

He nodded. “Good.” His eyes focused on her and he grimaced as he tried to sit up.

“Don’t get up. You’ve lost too much blood.”

“Have you been hurt?”

“I...one of the terrorists tried to...attack me.” Her eyes slid away from his, not believing how difficult it was to talk about. “I screamed and kicked him. Then the other one, the leader, made him leave me alone.” Georgia glanced at the open doorway into the main office, but no one was paying any attention to them. “Peter was...I thought he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands.”

Uncle Theo grunted. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“There’s something you should know.” Georgia lowered her voice even further. “This is going to sound crazy but...” she paused to check for a listener again, “...there’s a nuclear warhead in the basement.”

Uncle Theo stilled and he asked carefully, “What?”

---