Relentless (Benson Security 2)

“Set it up, then get the women out of here. I’ll cover you.”

“We go together,” Joe said.

“Sure, kid.” Ed turned his attention back to the advancing men. “You’ve got a minute. Now get to work.”

Chapter 11

Julia pulled her gran out of the way as Joe rushed around the dark little shop. He read labels and tossed items into a large basket.

“Don’t fire unless you have to,” Joe ordered Ed.

“They’re almost on us,” Ed said.

“Nearly there.” Joe lifted the heavy basket he’d filled and dropped it in front of the open doorway.

“What can we do?” Julia asked him.

His eyes were warm when he glanced at her. “Just do what you’re told. I’ll get you out of here in one piece. Trust me.”

Something passed between them, like an electric current riding on the air. “I do,” Julia told him.

He nodded and turned his attention to the basket.

There was shouting outside. The sound of running footsteps coming closer. Julia fought the panic bubbling up inside her. The sudden need to hide was almost too strong to resist. She looked at Joe and took strength from his calm, confident demeanour. He’d keep his word. She knew it. She did trust him—with her life. Her heart was another matter.

Joe swept everything off one of the tables. The table had been made from an old wooden door sitting on a couple of supports. Joe held up the thick wooden panel.

“It’ll have to do,” he said before spinning to Ed. “Everybody behind me. I’m going to light the basket and toss it out the door. Ed, you get the women up the ladder.” Joe pointed at Julia and her gran. “You two get your asses up there as fast as possible. We’ll bring up the rear.”

Julia felt a wave of dizziness at his command. He didn’t mean to leave them—did he?

“You’re coming too, right?”

“Absolutely.” It was a promise. She saw it in his eyes.

Without another word, he struck a match and held it against the string that trailed from the basket. Once it was sparking, Joe stood and kicked the basket into the alley. Fast as lightning, he grabbed the wooden door.

“Try to shield your eyes. This is going to give off powder. It will hurt like a bitch,” Joe said. “Julia, use your scarf.”

Julia yanked up the scarf as she grabbed his waist. Ed tugged Patricia in behind them. They cowered behind Joe, and the old wooden door, for the longest ten seconds of Julia’s life. And then the night exploded. A multitude of sharp, deafening blasts, made louder by the echoing effects of the narrow alley. Men shouted. Lights flashed. A thick yellow cloud filled the air.

“Run! Run!” Joe yelled.

As a group, they charged for the wall with the ladder attached, trusting blindly that Joe could see the way. He’d unholstered his weapon again and crouched behind the board, shielding them from the alley and the explosions.

“Boost them up,” he ordered.

“Already on it.” Ed grabbed Patricia around the waist and thrust her up towards the ladder. She grasped the rungs and started to climb.

As the dark mustard-yellow cloud became thicker, Julia lost sight of her grandmother.

“Your turn.” Ed pulled Julia to the ladder. Strong hands gripped her hips.

“Joe? You’re coming next, aren’t you?” Her voice trembled.

“Right behind you,” he said, but he didn’t look back.

“Up you go.” Ed didn’t give her time to prepare—he just lifted her high above his head.