Page 37 of ELITE Justice
The man ten feet from Jonathan glanced at his illuminated watch and lit another cigarette. Good, he had no idea he was being hunted.
“All tangoes have stopped. Prepare to attack.” The eye in the sky controlled by the Operations Center was invaluable. “Move out on three.”
The countdown seemed to take forever but Jonathan was sure it was only seconds.
“Three.”
Jonathan sprang from his hiding place, knife in hand. The man dropped his lit cigarette grabbing for his rifle. Before he could get it into position, Jonathan tackled him to the ground. The man had two inches and twenty pounds of soft belly on Jonathan. Able to get his rifle away from him, Jonathan tossed it to the side. But while trying to hold him down one-handed, the man came up with his own knife, slashing Jonathan in the biceps.
They rolled and grappled in the dry leaves fighting for a dominant position. The man pinned Jonathan on his back and tried to push his knife into Jonathan’s heart. Since his legs weren’t pinned, he was able to arch up and to the side, reversing their positions. The man tried to stop the roll and ended up burying his blade in the soft dirt.
In a flash, Jonathan’s knife was buried into the terrorist’s chest.
Panting, he reported, “Bravo two, successful.” He took a second to look at the slice that was on his arm. He was bleeding hard, and the cut was damn deep. It hadn’t hit a vein so he wasn’t worried. He waited while others reported in. Finally, there was a brief pause. “Bravo two, I’m going to need some stitches.”
“Alpha1 to all teams…good job. All tangoes dead. Operations, report to Homeland complete success. All teams to your rendezvous point.”
Jonathan checked the man who now lay in a growing pool of blood. He reassured himself once again that he was dead. Pulling out his personal first-aid kit, he wrapped gauze around his biceps then headed back to the SUV. Someone at Guardian would stitch him up before they went to Up In Smoke for breakfast. And Gwen.
CHAPTER15
Jonathan leanedhis head back on the soft headrest as the Guardian SUV sped across Dallas an hour before dawn. They were headed home. His temporary home in the hotel. He didn’t want to wake up Gwen covered in blood and smelling like sweat. Guardian’s medic had cleaned his wound and sewed it up quickly. Griffin wound the fresh gauze over the wound and handed him ibuprofen.
It had been one hell of a night. Totally, the combined teams had taken out more than twenty bad guys. None had gone down easy. The worst had been clearing the tunnels between the buildings. Talk about a death corridor. The SOG team from Homeland finally borrowed SWAT shields and affixed them to the front of a golf cart and chased the terrorists down.
Quin had been winged in the left shoulder. The bullet had grazed him according to Alex.
While they were at American Airlines’ new headquarters, the FBI was raiding homes all across the United States, taking members of the terrorist cells into custody. In the Dallas-Fort Worth area, Homeland Security had not yet found and captured Aqil Faris, the local cell leader.
Finding the head of the terrorists wasn’t Jonathan’s problem. All he really wanted to do was shower and sleep for ten hours straight, with Gwen curled up beside him. Then, he’d get her so wet and slide into her. Christ, being in her, bareback, was the most incredible orgasm he’d ever experienced. He hoped to do it again. And again. Maybe for a lifetime.
They needed to talk about their future. He’d been such an ass. She’d said she loved him. He was now sure that he loved her. Maybe he’d tell her after a romantic supper. Take her back to the rooftop again or give her that bike ride through the park they’d missed.
“Holy fuck,” Stan said from the driver’s seat to the three passengers. “We’re making a detour, boys. I don’t like the looks of this.”
Jonathan came fully awake and stared from the back seat out the windshield. Golden flames licked into the darkest part of night as black smoke blended with the starless sky. A glance around oriented him. The fire was close to Gwen’s diner.
Fear shot ice through Jonathan’s entire body. What if it was Gwen’s diner? She lived up on the third floor. He hadn’t checked her smoke detectors. How would she get out of her apartment? From the backside? There was a rusty ladder from the roof down, but she’d have to climb out a window. Why hadn’t he checked that it opened easily?
Worry grew within him as they got closer. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. He’d just found her.
Police had traffic stopped a block away. Jonathan didn’t care. He jumped out and ran toward the flashing lights.
A policeman tried to stop him at the barricade, but he could see him change his mind. Jonathan wasn’t sure if it was the blood covering his bulletproof vest, the look of desperation in his eyes, or all the guns and knives strapped to his body. He didn’t care as he sprinted toward the woman he loved.
Oh, fuck. It was Gwen’s place.
The building was fully engulfed in flames, water shooting at it from several angles. He caught sight of the local station trucks and grabbed a man in turnout gear. “My fiancée is in that building.”
The man’s eyes grew big. “What floor?”
“Third, on the backside.”Please. Please, God. Let her be safe.
The fireman talked to someone through his communication system and relayed information as it came in. “They rescued a man and woman on the second floor.”
Thank God they got both Luis and his wife.But where the hell is Gwen?Jonathan was about to go in there himself. If she was gone, he wasn’t sure life was worth living. But if she was alive, he’d die trying to get to her.
The obnoxious sounds of another firetruck arriving drowned out what the firefighter was saying. He finally pointed to where a ladder was extending toward a third-floor front window. Two men held a hose shooting water onto the roof.
