Six
Marshall squeezedCarter’s hand as they trekked through the city park back to the vehicle. He was glad he’d made the security team leave their phones on the plane and left the pilot with explicit instructions to continue his zigzag across the nation. Because of that, Marshall was confident that a trip into town so Carter could ride the historic carousel would be fine. They had let Carter play on the Fort Sherman Playground, done two rounds on the carousel—since Carter had two favorite horsies and he didn’t want to hurt their feelings—and now they sipped on the fresh-squeezed lemonades they’d gotten from a vendor as they meandered down the shaded sidewalk.
“Me love going round and round.” Carter jumped, pulling on Marshall’s hand. “Me love horsies.”
He neighed and galloped around Marshall and Lena in a figure eight, the backpack he’d insisted on wearing bumbling against his back. It had annoyed Marshall at first that Carter wanted to wear his pack everywhere like Lena did. Wasn’t a boy supposed to want to be like his daddy? Carter couldn’t copy anything of Marshall’s but his hurried conversations and quick kisses. He wanted to change that, which made this time even more important to him.
He glanced around, the presence of his three other bodyguards helping him relax even more into the experience. When was the last time he’d taken Carter out to have fun? Marshall couldn’t remember, and the fact sank hard into his gut. No wonder Lena looked at him with such contempt.
That would change too. He’d lain awake long into the night thinking about his relationship, or lack of, with his son. He would never honor Amara’s sacrifice if their son barely knew him. He didn’t have to be everywhere at all times. That’s what he had Ed for. Marshall needed to loosen the reins a bit and delegate more. Ed could handle it—would relish it, actually. This time of limited communication would be the perfect test of just how well Ed could run things.
A man stepped out from the bushes that lined the sidewalk, pulling Marshall’s attention back to the present. He looked like every other person they’d encountered that day, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and carrying an ice cream in his hand. Something about the way the guy eyed the bodyguard leading the way caused the hair on Marshall’s scalp to rise. He snagged Carter’s hand as he galloped by. Lena’s sucked breath shot Marshall’s gaze to her, where Tony, the head of Marshall’s security, held a gun against her side.
“Did you honestly think you could escape, Mr. Rand?” Tony smirked, condescension thick in his tone. “Running will only bring more trouble.”
Marshall pulled Carter against him as his gaze darted to Lena’s. He followed hers as it jumped from the man from the bushes, now pointing a gun at the other bodyguard, and the mirror situation with the third guard that had been trailing behind. At least there was just one traitor among them and not all of them. Marshall returned his attention to Tony and Lena, and stifled his surprise when she winked. She had a plan, and he needed to be ready to act. Four years in the Air Force hadn’t been for nothing, even if he had been just an analyst.
“Please, I’ll do whatever you want, just let Carter and Elena go.” Marshall put as much pleading in his voice as he could stomach, hoping to buy Lena some time.
“Daddy?” Carter looked up at Marshall, confusion on his small face.
“You lost that chance when you decided to run.” Tony tightened his grip on Lena’s arm. “There’s someone who wants to chat.”
Lena exploded, her arm swinging up and nailing Tony in the Adam’s apple. His eyes bulged as he dropped his gun and clutched his throat. The other two guards followed Lena’s lead and attacked. Marshall lifted Carter into his arms, holding him tightly.
Lena took off through the park, grabbing Marshall’s arm as she passed, and jerked him with her. He stretched his legs to keep up with her, his daily five-mile run paying off. Carter whimpered against Marshall’s neck and wrapped his tiny arms so tightly Marshall worried he’d choke. Lena dashed just ahead of him, her hand poised over her side where she probably concealed her sidearm. She seemed to know exactly where she was heading, so he kept his focus on planting his feet and holding Carter close. He chanced a glance behind him just as the guy who had stepped into their path burst from the bushes, spotting them an instant later.
“Lena, they’re coming.” Marshall pushed harder, willing his legs to move faster.
They emerged from the trees into a parking lot. His harsh breaths and the slapping of their feet on the pavement thundered in his ears. Where was she taking them?
“Marshall, get ahead of me.” No strain or exhaustion was apparent in her voice as she slowed just enough for him to pass her. “Keep going. Straight ahead, through those trees.”
He aimed for the trees, hoping refuge waited on the other side. His lungs burned. He obviously had been taking his runs too easy.
The pop of a small caliber gun caused him to duck and tuck Carter in front of him. Why were they shooting? He couldn’t chat if he was dead. The fear that adrenaline had pushed out of his brain skated back up his spine.
Lena grunted behind him. Had they shot her? He peeked back just as she spun and took out their pursuers with two clean shots. A thrill of excitement tingled and twisted along the fear. This was insane … and exhilarating.
He crashed into the trees, covering Carter’s head against the limbs. They emerged at a busy intersection just as the crossing signal beeped. How had she known this was here?
“Go. Cross the street. Don’t stop.” She nudged his back, and he dashed across the street.
The light changed, and the waiting cars honked as they raced pass. When they reached the opposite side, he peeked back to see Tony glaring across the busy traffic, his phone to his ear. He’d been on Marshall’s security detail for over three years. How long had the man been an enemy?
Lena’s head whipped back to look behind them. “We have to hurry.” Rushing to a beat-up single-cab pickup, she jerked the driver’s door open and motioned for them to get in. He scooted across the bench seat, pushing empty fast-food trash aside and climbing over a toolbox.
“Get on the floorboard and stay down.” Lena tossed her backpack onto the bench. “I need you to get my hat out of there.”
He tucked Carter underneath him and scrunched onto the floorboard. There was barely enough room for them both to fit. He adjusted his legs, trying to get more comfortable, then reached for her bag.
She grabbed the toolbox on the seat, rifling through the contents and pulling out a screwdriver and hammer. What did she plan to do? She placed the screwdriver in the ignition. There was no way she could hot wire the truck. Shouldn’t they keep running, maybe look for a cop or something? Marshall pulled out her hat and set it next to her, doubt clinging to his throat as he tried to catch his breath.
“Daddy, me scared.” Carter trembled under him, curling his little body against Marshall’s.
“Hey, squirt. It’s okay.” He rubbed his hand over his son’s curls. “We’re not letting anything happen to you.”
A loud metallic whack jerked Marshall’s head up just in time to watch Lena slam the hammer a second time against the screwdriver’s handle. She turned the tool jutting from the steering column, and the truck fired to life. Where in the world did she learn that? He was pretty sure they didn’t teach that in the army.