Page 101 of Radar

Xander had a backpack on either shoulder and his wheelie in one hand. Elyssa wasn’t looking good. When he tucked his arm around her, she had no energy in her body.

He’d get them to the boat, and she could sleep for the five or so hours that they’d be on the water. Once they arrived in Le Havre, he’d come up with the next steps.

Radar stepped out into the courtyard, and as always, his keen gaze swept the area, his nose went up. This time, his body went rigid.

With his arm outstretched in front of Elyssa, Xander backed up against the wall. “Stay here a sec,” he said. Signaling Radar to his side, Radar rounded into place, but his gaze was unwavering.

Xander slid down to see what Radar had fixed on.

Two men were climbing out of a car. The driver reached under his coat to the back of his waist and retrieved a gun. He looked directly at the archway into the courtyard, where the single room was situated. Then, he scanned the street, the buildings, and finally landed back on his cohort. They locked eyes. Their mission was a go.

How did anyone find them here?

Xander swung his gaze around the courtyard.

They were trapped.

His focus fixed on the wall ladder, a typical feature throughout France. They allowed people onto the roof for repair or snow removal.

“Elyssa,” Xander whispered. “Can you climb the ladder?” If Elyssa could get up the ladder, Radar could climb second, and with his supply pack on his back, they could slip out of sight.

Elyssa looked at Radar, then at the ladder, touched her medical bracelet, and shook her head. The skin on her face looked lax as if even holding her normal facial expression in place was too much.

He pressed her back into the room, moving her as efficiently as possible. “Two men are coming up with weapons. If they get in, you get into the bathroom and lock the door. Leave Radar in the bedroom. His job is to protect you. You are not the mama protecting your puppy. He is a war dog. If you’re in his way, you only make his job harder. Trust him.”

“Absolutely,” she managed, then put her hand on Radar’s head.

“Radar, guard Elyssa.” With that command, Radar expanded his chest, his ears up and rotating, his gaze keen.

Xander pulled the door shut, tested that it had locked, and was scanning the courtyard for weapons of opportunity—a cast iron chair, a wooden flagpole.

Assessing the usefulness of the ladder and rejecting it as a strategy, Xander’s gaze slid to the archway between the buildings. If it’s good enough for a Bratislavan street thug, it’s good enough for me.

The goons waited on the other side of the street, watching traffic and looking for their break, unaware that they’d been spotted.

Xander pushed his hands into one side of the thick arch and kicked his feet up, pressing them away. He was surprised by how easy it was to get into this position. Hand then foot, handthen foot, he bear-crawled up the supports until his back curved with the ancient archway. The damp cold from the plaster radiated into his palms and up his wrists.

When Xander had been reviewing the effectiveness of this move, back in Bratislava, the goons’ smiles and their uptilted heads had been part of the razzle-dazzle. They had meant for Xander to look up. They meant for him to be confused, for his brain to face something new that needed processing.

The traffic had cleared. The men crossed the street. They slowed on approach, each with a gun in hand, each weapon held in ready position against their chests. These weren’t Bratislavan street thugs; these men were trained.

Just as Xander would do if he was stalking the target, the goons stopped under the cover of the arch to scan the surroundings before moving forward. But if he was flowing through a narrow passage like this, Xander would stack up with his team. He’d never do what these guys were doing, which seemed like some tactic they saw in a YouTube video or a poorly written movie scene. They stood opposite each other, each with their back to the wall, and they were going to peel off in opposite directions.

That might work if it were only Elyssa.

But the hell if it would work with Radar on the scene.

Xander was glad his dog was a silent sentinel. The less they showed their hand, the better. A bark could be easily traced. A bullet could be lined up, and the source of the sound could be eliminated.

For a split second, Xander questioned his decision to lock the door. Radar running onto the scene, evening out the numbers of fighters might feel like a good reflex.

But if they made it past Xander, Elyssa needed a weapon.

No, he’d set things up the best he could.

It was the guns in their hands that scared the shit out of him.

But since they held the pistols to their chests like that, yeah, this might just work.

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