Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

Before her brain caught up with his actions, she was through the space and clinging to the top of the lift as they plummeted downward. He followed, slamming the panel closed behind him.

He wrapped an arm around her as he stood, taking her with him. “You aren’t gonna like this next bit. Don’t scream.”

There was no time to figure out his intention. One second, he was staring at the walls as they flashed past. The next, he jumped, taking her with him. Friday opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Fear had stolen her voice.

They landed feet first on the narrow ledge outside another set of lift doors. There was nothing to hold onto. Nothing to keep her on the ledge. She wavered. Her foot slipped. And she fell. Her stomach hit the edge of the ledge, and she grabbed Striker’s ankle. Pure, unadulterated adrenaline swept through her, making her feel like everything happened in slow motion.

She dangled over the shaft, her free hand clawing at the ledge, her other hand biting into Striker’s leg, clinging to him, desperate. Terror kept her silent, her focus on staying alive.

A hand wrapped around her upper arm. Muscles flexed, and Striker pulled her up beside him. There would be bruises where he’d grasped her, and she’d be grateful for every one of them.

“I could kiss you right now,” she whispered as her body shook.

“Hold that thought.” He transferred her hand to a recessed handle beside the doors. “Grip this while I open the doors. Don’t move an inch.”

That would be hard considering she was shaking so much. With a white-knuckle grip on the narrow handle, she watched him produce a multipurpose tool from his daypack. He unscrewed a panel to manipulate the wiring inside. A second later, the doors slid open, and they tumbled through. They were on the fifth floor. As the elevator doors closed behind them, Friday fought the urge to throw herself into Striker’s arms. She wanted him to hold her until she stopped shaking, if that was even possible. But there wasn’t time. Kane and his men were still looking for them.

“Come on. I need to see where we are.”

They ran for the window at the end of the corridor. Buildings from this era had been built clos

e together, with architectural details that no longer served a purpose, like the narrow Spanish style balcony outside the window.

“We’re goin’ out.” He used his multi-tool to short-circuit the lock on the window before throwing it open.

They climbed out onto the old wooden balcony, and Striker sealed the window after them. In the street below, emergency services worked on the buildings damaged during the clinic blast. Lights flashed. People shouted. Smoke filled each breath. Friday swallowed it down, fearful she’d cough and attract attention. The buildings were so close together that there was only an inch between theirs and the one next door. A balcony jutted out above them on the neighboring building.

“If I stand on the rail, I can jump up to that balcony. Then I can pull you up.”

She glanced down. The ground was awfully far away. What if they slipped? Fell? She kept her lips sealed. If there had been another option, he would have given it to her.

As he took a step toward their balcony rail, her hand shot out, fingers holding him hard. “Be safe. Please. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. I’m not worth it.”

“Bébé.” There was a wealth of emotion in that one word, all of it meant for her.

She found herself blinking back tears as he clasped her nape and pulled her in for a quick, hard kiss.

“You’re worth it,” he whispered against her lips. “Never think otherwise. You. Are. Worth. It.”

With one last squeeze, he released her and climbed up to stand on the rail of their balcony. She held her breath as he bent his knees and sprang upward, gripping the base of the balcony above them with both hands. Biceps flexing, he pulled himself up. He made it look effortless, jumping between balconies five floors up with nothing beneath them to break his fall.

He fumbled with his pack before lying flat on his stomach. One end of a rope fell down to her.

“Wrap it around your waist. Tie it real good, chère. Then climb up to stand on the rail, and I’ll pull you up.”

She was about to follow his orders, but suddenly hesitated, her hand still on the rope. What was she doing? Risking his life to save hers? No matter what he said, she wasn’t worth it. Especially not now, when it was too late to get to the antidote anyway. Her time was up. Kane was seconds away from finding them, and even if they did manage to escape and make it to New York, Enforcement would be waiting for them.

She had to face facts. She was dead already. The question was, did she want to take Striker with her when she went? She didn’t even have to think about the answer. She didn’t want him to die, sacrificed for her. She wanted to save him. He was more important than she would ever be. He was everything to her. He was…

She looked up into his gorgeous face, filled with worry. Over her. And it hit her.

He was the man she loved.

Desperately. Completely. Loved.

And she couldn’t let Kane get his hands on him.

“Don’t do it.” It was the order of a commander, an urgent hiss, filled with pain and anger. “Don’t you even think about doin’ it. We’re getting out of here. Together. You an’ me. We’ve got a flight to catch. Don’ you dare walk away. You hear me? Don’ you dare.”