Page 81 of The Wild Charge

Fox grinned. “You want me to incriminate myself? Right here at this table? Nah. But I don’t see why we can’t help each other out.”

“And how exactly wouldyoube helpingme?”

“I know a lot of very beautiful ladies.”

Thatgot his attention. His gaze sharpened. His nostrils flared on his next breath. “Why would I be interested in that?”

Fox let his grin widen, tempered it so it looked affable and stupid. “Aw, you gonna play shy?”

In his ear, Tenny said, “Get under the table.Now.”

Glass shattered.

And before the screaming started, Fox heard the staccato crack of gunshots.

~*~

“They’re probably doing the same thing we are,” Evan said of the black sedan that was keeping up a continuous, crawling circle of the parking lot across the street. “Keeping an eye out, you know?”

A man had emerged from it five minutes before, scanned his surroundings, and gone into the restaurant. Their mark. The car had been moving ever since.

“Probably,” Tenny scoffed. “Is that what you do all day? Go around relying on the accuracy ofprobably?”

Reese elbowed him before he could go off on a diatribe. “Ten. Look.”

In the parking lot, the black car was gearing up for another slow lap, slowing down even further, and a prickle of awareness shivered up the back of Reese’s neck. Wrong. Something waswrong, and he thought he knew what.

“Hold position,” he said, stood, and vaulted over the parapet.

“Damn it,” Tenny hissed, as he went. “You can’t – Reese – fucking…”

Then he was falling, and Tenny’s voice was lost to the rush of wind in his ears.

The hardware store was only one story, a drop that Reese had taken countless times before. He landed as lightly as ever, legs and feet long-accustomed to handling that sort of impact, sinking down in his knees and coming up coiled and ready to sprint across the street.

Two things happened before he could take off, though.

Automatic gunfire erupted in front of the restaurant.

And a strong arm hooked around his neck from behind.

In that first moment, as he was yanked backward, shock rendered him useless. No one got the drop on him; not ever.

But it was happening now and he needed to react. He wrenched free, and spun, whirled in close to the heat and breath-sounds of the body behind him, one hand reaching for a knife and the other delivering a sharp blow to the man’s throat.

A blow the man dodged. Effortlessly.

Reese caught a glimpse of eyeshine, a fast gleam of white, and the mottled, shadowed streaks of grease paint like his own. Then a swing came toward his head, and he was grappling on the sidewalk with someone who fought just like him.

~*~

“Shit,” Tenny swore, adrenaline spiking, all the air leaving his lungs in a rush. “Shit, shit, fuckingshit.”

Military style engagements were like trauma centers at hospitals: you had to triage the situation and tackle the direst cases first.

The black car was conducting a drive-by on the restaurant.

Reese was trading blows with someone dressed all in black down on the sidewalk.

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