Page 56 of The Sniper

Artemis was always a step ahead, but Reyna refused to accept that she was untouchable.

“Come on, come on,” Anton muttered, fingers flying over the keyboard as he spliced together fragments of footage, cross-referencing timestamps. “Where the hell are you taking him?”

Reyna leaned in, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her ears. “Check private routes. Back roads. She wouldn’t take him somewhere obvious.”

Anton shot her a look. “You think I’m new at this?”

Reyna ignored the jab, eyes locked on the screen as Anton ran the latest traffic camera through a filtering software, removing glare, enhancing plate readability. The footage was still grainy, but this time, the pieces aligned—an intersection leading to a restricted-access road.

Anton cursed under his breath, tapping a few more keys before sitting back. “Shit. That road leads straight to an old private airstrip. Looks like it still sees use for chartered flights.”

Reyna’s stomach dropped. “If she gets Hartley on a plane, we lose him.”

Anton nodded grimly. “She’s not stupid. She knows we’d have her pinned in the city. A plane gets her out clean.”

Reyna didn’t hesitate. She spun on her heel and strode toward the office Fitz commandeered when he was in town. “Daniels, Fitz—we have a lead. Sending coordinates now.”

Daniels’ voice crackled in her earpiece. “Where?”

“Private airstrip outside the city. She’s trying to get Hartley airborne.”

“We need to move, and we need to move now,” said Daniels.

She had left the room and was already strapping a sidearm to her thigh when she felt his presence enter the armory behind her.

Daniels didn’t even break stride. He stormed into the armory like a thundercloud, his jaw set, eyes flashing with something between fury and control.

“No.”

Reyna paused, lifting an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going in. You stay back, run recon.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Like hell I do.”

Daniels closed the space between them in the space of a heartbeat, his sheer size forcing her to look up at him. “I am not arguing with you about this.”

“Then stop talking and let me gear up.”

His hand shot out, gripping her arm before she could reach for another magazine. “Reyna.”

The way he said her name—low, authoritative—made everything inside her quiver as arousal surged through the system. She had it bad for Daniels… really bad.

She wrenched her arm free, stepping into his space. “I am not sitting this out.”

“You’re not thinking straight. You’re pissed off and reckless, and that’s going to get you killed.”

Her blood boiled, her jaw tightening. “You think I’m not in control?”

“Iknowyou’re not,” Daniels snapped. “You don’t get to play fast and loose with your life just because you’re pissed off.”

She sucked in a breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. The air between them crackled with something electric, a volatile mix of frustration, attraction, and something deeper neither of them was willing to name.

Then, before she could react, Daniels moved.

In a blur, he grabbed her waist and spun her, pinning her against the steel desk behind them. The edge of the metal bit into her lower back, his body a solid wall against hers. His hands caged her in, palms flat on the desk on either side of her hips.

Her breath hitched, her pulse hammering.

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