Page 78 of Austen

Phoenix dropped too.

“Are you hit?”asked Steinbeck, now crouching, running toward Phoenix.

Gunfire shredded the plane’s wings and body, but Phoenix rolled away and launched herself behind a nearby cart.So, still alive.

“Run!”Steinbeck shouted as he reached Phoenix.“Come on, let’s go!”

Declan scrambled to his feet, pulling Austen with him.Of course whoever was shooting caught their movement.Shots peppered their wake.

He stopped behind a nearby truck, parked between them and the Quonset hut.Steinbeck and Phoenix scuttled in beside them.

Steinbeck looked at Declan, his expression strained.“You need to get her out of here.”Steinbeck picked up what looked like a tire iron.

“I’m not leaving without you, Steinbeck.”Austen, of course.

“Look what I found,” Phoenix said.She had disengaged the nozzle of a portable gasoline tank and now clutched the hose.“You guys go.I’ll stop them.”

“Where are we going to go?”Steinbeck said.

“The yacht,” Declan said.“We saw Captain Teresa down in the square.You said you saw it?—”

“Yes,” Steinbeck said.He looked at Phoenix.“We get to the harbor, then.”

Their gazes seemed to catch.A beat, then Phoenix nodded.“Go.I’ll take the scooter and be right behind you.”Then she stepped out from the truck, spraying gasoline onto the tarmac.

Declan grabbed Austen.Steinbeck rose, his gaze hard on Phoenix, something in his eyes that probably matched Declan’s own desperation when Steinbeck had told him he’d have to leave Austen behind.

“You’d better show up,” Steinbeck shouted.

Phoenix waved her hand.“Go!I’ll be right behind you!I promise!”

Steinbeck let out a growl.“Let’s go!”

They took off running.Bullets pinged around them, but they crossed behind the Quonset hut and dove into the Lada, Steinbeck at the wheel.

“Was that—” Austen said, climbing into the back seat.

“Our Russian friends?”Declan said.“Maybe.”

“Or it could be local police,” Steinbeck said.“I’m not gonna stick around to find out.”

As he pulled out, however, Declan saw him angle the rearview mirror, glancing at it as they headed down the dirt road.

“Come on.Come on,” he muttered.

They’d reached the gravel when an explosion lit up the night, a plume of orange and red that blew apart the sky.

Austen put her hands over her head, ducking before she looked back.“Oh no, I hope Phoenix got away.”

From the look on Steinbeck’s face, that was an understatement.

“Should we go back?”Declan turned, searching for her form in the glow.

Steinbeck shook his head.“We need to get to the boat.She’ll be there.”

They hit the outskirts of town and wove their way through the darkened city streets, losing themselves in the tangle of neighborhoods until they finally reached the harbor.A chain-link fence cordoned off the entire area, locked from the outside.But inside, along the pier, Declan made out theInvictus.

Beautiful.White.Hope glistening under the moonlight.

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