Page 134 of Viral Justice

Max pulled in a breath, sighted down the barrel of his weapon at the man whose rifle was pointed at Ali’s head, and let the breath out. He fired one shot. Without hesitation, he turned the weapon toward the cameraman recording Akbar and fired again.

The extremist went down.

Chaos erupted.

Ali and two of the American soldiers were on their feet and moving. Warren had fallen over.

Akbar was yelling and running around, his arms flailing around like a windmill.

Two of the remaining militants began firing their weapons, but one of them was tackled by Jessup and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Max had to search for Ali, and finally found her as she flipped a militant over onto his back, ripping his weapon out of his grasp at the same time. She turned the weapon around and shot him, then searched for her next target.

She didn’t see Akbar moving toward her at a dead run. Not until it was too late.

Max fired, but the shot missed.

Akbar plowed into her, knocking her off her feet and sending her flying. She lay on the ground, stunned.

Max got to his feet and sprinted toward them, but Akbar was up and striding toward her, menace written in every muscle of his body.

Max was going to be too late.

Just as Akbar reached for Ali, she threw something at him and he froze.

Max ran into him from the side in a move that would have looked right at home in a professional hockey game. The chemist was tossed into the air then crumpled to the ground and didn’t get up.

Ali rolled to her feet and began shooting past Max’s shoulder.

He got out of the way, letting her help Hunt and Jessup subdue the last of the armed militants.

As quickly as it started, the fight was over.

As he looked at the carnage he’d instigated, he shook his head. No, his fight was really just beginning.

“Max?” Ali said carefully. “Are you okay?”

“Probably not, but since I’m conscious and on my feet, I’m okay enough.” He looked her over, but saw no injuries that would require his attention. “What about you?”

“I’m all right. Warren needs medical attention, though.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Max said. He should move, get right to that, but he found he couldn’t take a single step away from her. He needed...Fuck it.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms for a tight, fast hug. “Are you hurt?”

“Only a few bruises, I promise.”

He nodded and released her. “Okay, now I can go to work.” He released her and moved to examine Warren. “The three guys who went to watch for the airdrop will be back at some point,” he said, tossing the words over his shoulder. “Someone is going to have to disarm them, and I don’t know if there are any other armed militants wandering around. I had trouble focusing...before.”

“That wound on your head—” Ali began.

“Is a surface wound, nothing more,” he interrupted. “I need some first aid supplies and a radio.” He stopped and looked around for two seconds. “We need...” He stared at Ali.

Wait a minute.

His head and side hurt, his whole body felt like a giant bruise, but no cough. No fever.

She wasn’t coughing either.

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