Run To Rome
“You’re not going to shoot that guy, are you?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
Shocks creaked as his weight lifted from the car. “Trent?”
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“What?”
“Be careful.”
Trent appreciated her concern, but slammed the door and strolled around the front of the car, keeping his back to the guy parked a short twenty or thirty yards behind them on the opposite side of the street. He’d double checked twice, but still found his hands itching for reassurance that the windbreaker completely concealed the gun stuck in his front waistband.
There were four bullets left. He didn’t want to use a single one.
The difficulty of maintaining a relaxed pace tightened his muscles. He fought the urge to run inside, grab Halli’s sister, and get the hell outta Dodge. Unfortunately, the situation required a little more finesse than that. Hopefully, that’s all it’d take.
A trio of young girls exited the café and he ducked his chin with a tug on his cap. It wouldn’t do for anyone to recognize him. Out of the blue, Halli’s frequent reminders not to smile had him struggling not to do exactly that right now. Until he noticed one of the girls had fallen a step behind her friends to flash him a grin.
He scowled discouragement at the tall, flashy blond, and she immediately scurried to join the others. One bullet dodged, now he hoped to maintain his percentage with real lead.
Inside the cafe, Rachel’s watchdog stood off to one side, pretending interest in a nearby display. Trent did a quick scan for Halli’s sister, but she was nowhere to be seen amidst the half-dozen or so customers. He stepped up to the counter and ordered an espresso in Italian while digging a couple coins from his pocket. From the corner of his eye, he saw the blond man glance toward the back of the café.
Trent’s gaze followed and located the door to the women’s restroom. The reason for this opportune distraction became clear. The barista slid his cup across the counter at the same moment Rachel stepped from the restroom. He reached for the cup with an absent smile, his attention on Halli’s sister. “Grazie.”
A gasp from the barista wiped the smile from his lips and he whipped his head around. She’d covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide. Trent immediately thought something had happened with the blond guy or Rachel and spun back. No. They’d just turned for the door.
“You’re Trent Tomlin!” the barista exclaimed.
Trent’s gaze snapped back to her. Damn. Without even taking into account Halli’s warnings, he’d used his smile enough that he should’ve known better than to let it slip. He made a face and summoned his best Italian accent to speak in the barista’s native tongue.
“No, but I get that a lot. Too bad the guy’s such a prick.”
The coins bounced on the counter as he swiped up his cup and started for the door. In two strides, the gaze of the blond man met his. After what the barista had said, a flash of recognition darkened the guy’s ice blue eyes. His hand reached for the inside of his jacket.
Trent lunged forward, popping the lid off his cup as he went. Before the man could draw a weapon, Trent threw the steaming espresso in his face.
Rachel leapt back at the man’s pained shout. Hot drops of liquid pelted Trent’s bare skin and shirt, but he ignored them along with the alarmed exclamations of the café customers. He thrust a surprised Rachel toward the door.
“Halli’s outside in the black car. Go!”
He spun back to the guard. An oncoming fist super-charged Trent’s reflexes, and he flung his left arm up to deflect the blow. His wounded arm screamed with the effort required to hold the heavier man back until an adrenaline-boosted swing of his own connected with the man’s jaw. His head snapped to the side. He stumbled backward, flailing for balance. Two tables and a number of chairs gave way at the last moment, and the back of his head hit the wall with a resounding thud.
Trent had no time to see if the man was out cold—Rachel’s frantic exit from the café would not have gone unnoticed by Blondie’s partner. Trent shoved past a startled pedestrian in the doorway to see Halli had opened the back door of the car. Hand outstretched, she emerged from the vehicle, beaming at Rachel limping toward her.
Glass shattered behind him. Needlepoint shards rained onto the sidewalk. Screams erupted all around. Trent ducked at the same time Rachel’s body jerked. Halli cried out as her sister crumpled to the ground. On hands and knees, Trent fumbled for the gun at his waist. Halli fell to her knees beside her sister.
For one heart-stopping, unbearable moment, he thought she’d been shot. Until her tear-filled eyes lifted to his amidst the chaos. He waved her back, fingers clenched on the grip of the gun. “Get in the car!”
No more than he started to spin around to take out the man in the café, the half rolled down window of the open back door exploded. Trent ducked again in the midst of more screams. He caught sight of the second man from the Fiat sprinting toward them, gun extended. When Trent raised his gun, the man immediately dove behind a vehicle three cars away.
He checked Halli and saw her working with her sister to get them both into the back seat. Trent fired a shot into the back end of the car the man hid behind and cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure Blondie in the café didn’t pose a double threat. His blood froze at the sight of café customers helping the guy to his feet.
“Halli—we gotta go!”
“Then let’s go!”
He surged to his feet, firing two more cover shots down the street. Quick spin, aim, fire, and the window above the door of the café exploded. A running leap launched him feet first across the hood of the car. The rivets on his back left jeans pocket screeched across the metal until he landed on his feet on the other side.