He rolled the tension from his shoulders. He’d gone from touching heaven to facing hell in five short minutes. “Just give me cover.”
Rachel eased closer to the window. She took aim.
Dylan took a position right next to her. They opened fire.
And Drew rushed out the front door.
* * *
DREW LANCASTER was insane.
The man had just run out into a hail of bullets. He had to be insane.
The thunder was pretty much continuous around Tina then. She could hear the bullets thudding into the walls. Hear the shattering of glass and—wow—the bedside lamp had just blasted into about a hundred small pieces.
You’d better be alive, Drew. Do not get yourself shot.
Tina stayed low. She didn’t have a weapon to use in this battle. She also couldn’t let herself become any kind of handicap to the agents. Her heart was racing, her hands shaking, but she breathed in and out, in and—
Silence.
Tina started to lift her head.
“I count two men down.” That was Dylan Foxx’s voice. Deep, rumbling, no accent at all. She’d seen Dylan plenty of times at the EOD office.
“There were at least four shooters,” Rachel Mancini said. Her voice was softer, and Tina had to strain to hear it. Usually, if Rachel was around, Dylan wasn’t far away. They always worked missions together.
Rachel and Dylan were still safe but...
Where is Drew?
“I’m going out,” Dylan said.
Great. Now two of them were rushing into enemy fire.
I can help. She crawled forward. Keeping her head down was a definite priority, but so was making certain that Drew was safe. She grabbed Dylan’s leg. He jerked toward her. “Give me a gun,” she said, gazing up at him and hoping that he didn’t notice her body was shaking. “And I’ll help cover you.”
He hesitated.
Fine. She yanked up his jeans, revealing his ankle holster. The guy always carried his backup. “I’ll just take this one,” she told him.
He blinked.
There was still no more gunfire. The silence out there was scaring her as much as the bullets. “Go find Drew.”
Dylan nodded. His gaze darted toward Rachel.
The dark-haired agent gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Then Dylan was easing open the motel-room door. He slid into the night.
Tina’s knees brushed across the broken shards of glass from the window. The rain still poured from the sky, and the darkness seemed so complete outside. The brief flashes of
lightning lit up the scene, and every time it flashed, she strained to see—
“He’s got a gun!” The figure lurched up from the darkness and aimed right at the motel room.
Rachel fired.