Glitter and Gunfire/Bulletproof (Shadow Agents 4)

* * *

“I NEED HELP!” His voice was high and shrill. Desperate. Angry. Pain-filled.

Probably because his blood was pouring all over the back of the van.

“Take me to a hospital!”

That wasn’t going to happen—he should know better than to even ask for such a foolish thing. The EOD would already have eyes at all of the hospitals, waiting for a gunshot victim to be brought in.

Cassidy had been surprising. She’d actually used her weapon, been ready to kill in order to survive.

I didn’t think she had it in her.

But perhaps Cassidy was like her father, after all. Mercer had never hesitated on a kill.

No matter how many lives he destroyed.

“Help me!” He was clutching his stomach, moaning. He could survive the wound provided that he got help soon enough. The blood flow could be staunched. He’d get stitched up.

But he’d be weak.

There wasn’t time for weakness. Already agents were probably tracking the vehicle. Those stupid cameras were everywhere in the U.S. Big Brother—Mercer—always watching.

But the screaming man had to be dealt with. It was so hard to find good help these days. So hard...all of the best men in their team had died in Rio, courtesy of Cassidy and the EOD.

“Please!” he gasped out.

Fine. “I will help you.”

He smiled. Finally stopped th

at pathetic begging. Good. His calm would make things easier.

He didn’t see the gun—not until it was too late. By then, there was no time for any more pleas. No time to try to lunge away.

The bullet hit him in the heart. A direct shot. Not sloppy aim. Cassidy had been sloppy.

He fell back, his head slamming into the floor of the van.

Injured, he’d been a liability. He would have kept demanding help, and if he’d gone to the hospital, then Mercer’s men would’ve had him.

The injured man would have turned on his boss—it would only have been a matter of time. The loyal men had died in Rio. The others...they weren’t to be trusted. Used, but not trusted.

The smell of his blood deepened in the air. Cassidy had bled in that van, too. Bled, pleaded.

Escaped. Damn it.

The hunt wasn’t over.

Not yet.

An eye for an eye.

The scales were far from being balanced.

The van was left just where it sat, its doors hanging open. Mercer could find the dead man inside. A dead man would tell him nothing.

Cassidy would be in the hospital. Which one?