Page 11 of Lost Hope

“Ronan.” Warning in Axel’s tone. “We spook her now, she’ll shoot first and?—”

“And what? Get dead?” Ronan was already moving. “That worked out great for Benson. We were too slow last time.”

“Wasn’t our fault. We couldn’t have?—”

“We could have found a way to warn him. Could have prevented them from separating us.” The guilt drove him forward, each step eating up the distance to the woman. He wasn’t watching another agent die because he was too cautious, too slow.

Axel muttered what sounded like a prayer but moved to cover him.

The Audi’s engine revved softly. Ahead of them, Chen shifted her stance, scanning rooflines. Good instincts; wrong direction. She hadn’t spotted the real threat yet, the driver reaching for something on his passenger seat.

“Same goons that dragged the woman’s partner out of the SUV and shot him while he and Axel raced to the scene.

He forced the image away. Focus on the target. On the now.

“Ronan crouched behind a stack of pallets. Twenty feet separated him from the detective.

Miraculously, the killers hadn’t chosen to shoot Agent Chen. Yet.

“Now,” Ronan hissed. “Before they?—”

Chen spun, weapon leveled at Ronan’s chest. Her hands were rock steady, eyes cold. “That’s close enough.”

“Agent Chen?—”

“On your knees. Hands where I can see them.”

The Audi’s doors opened with soft clicks. The men emerged. Broad-shouldered. Confident bearing. They raised handguns. Long barrels. Pro equipment.

No time for careful. No time for procedure.

“Get down!” He lunged for her.

Her shot went wide as Ronan slammed into her, pulling her down behind the pallets as the first silenced round cracked past their heads. She fought like someone used to close quarters, all elbows and leverage.

Only he had fifty pounds on her and far more experience. Still, disarming her without hurting her took some doing.

“They’re here to kill all of us,” he gritted out. “Just like they killed Marcus. And your partner.”

Another burst of suppressed fire had them both pressing lower. Axel appeared beside them, keeping his head down. “We need to move. Now.”

He caught the distinctive crunch of boots on concrete. They had seconds. Maybe.

“Your choice, Agent Chen,” Ronan said. “Trust us enough to get out of here alive, or we all die. Choose fast.”

Her eyes locked onto his then shifted to the Audi, to the distinctive professional stance of its shooters.

“Harbor patrol shack,” she said finally.

“Move fast and stay low.” Ronan kept her Sig trained on the Audi while Axel pulled her behind a row of containers. Seven rounds. Had to make them count. A burst of automatic fire sparked off metal above his head. Three shooters, moving with military precision. No way they could hold position here long.

“The shack’s no good,” he called to Axel. Too much glass, thin walls. They’d be trapped.

“Working on it.” Axel was already moving, dragging Maya with him. His eyes scanned the harbor setup with the practiced eye of someone who saw possibilities in everyday objects. “Got propane tanks on the maintenance dock. Emergency flares in the shack.”

Ronan tracked the closest shooter through the Sig’s sights. “How long?”

“Two minutes. Maybe less.” Axel’s voice held the familiar tension that came before he did something insane. “Keep them busy.” Then he turned to the woman. “Agent Chen, unless you want to die here, you’re coming with me.”

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