Page 7 of Crossfire

“Hello?” a female voice echoed off the walls.

Goddammit!

Vosch ducked beneath the dashboard.

His driver, on the other hand, launched himself out of the SUV, slamming the door with a crunch. I have to be honest; the urge to blow the driver’s head off was so strong, it made my trigger finger itch, but if I did that, I’d reveal theonlything I had going for me right now—my hidden location—and with how evasive Vosch had been, I couldn’t take that chance.

I kept my eyes trained on the SUV’s windshield, waiting for Vosch’s head to pop up like a whack-a-mole, while the driver stormed toward the female voice in my periphery.

“Show yourself, Bob.” The woman’s voice was sharp and commanding, like the crack of a whip. “Bo?—”

Her words were cut short by the sickening smack of flesh against flesh, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground.

A bloodcurdling scream tore from the woman’s throat, bouncing off the cold, unforgiving walls. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I imagined what the driver must be doing to her.

But suddenly, a man’s agonized cry ripped through the air, drowning out her screams.

What the hell?Her scream had been laced with shock, but his…his was pure, unadulterated agony.

She must have landed a devastating blow to his dick. By the sounds of it, she’d lodged it all the way to his sternum, but in a few seconds, he’d surely retaliate. Brutally.

I squinted, trying to make out Vosch’s shadowy form moving inside the SUV, while the sounds of the violent struggle continued.

Grunts and smacks punctuated the air, the rhythm of flesh striking flesh in a brutal dance until finally, a sickening crack reverberated through the chamber, like the snapping of a dry twig underfoot.

A howl of pain followed, but surprisingly, it wasn’t thewoman’shigh-pitched wail. It was the deep, guttural roar of a man in agony.

Had someone else come down with her?

I couldn’t scrutinize them without taking my eyes off Vosch, but in my distant periphery, only two shadowed figures were engaged in battle.

Meanwhile, the universe decided this wasn’t a big enough shit show; Vosch’s figure launched into the seat, and the SUV shot forward with a groan.

Shit.

I fired. Glass exploded from the driver’s-side window, but he spun the SUV around, clipping the side mirror against the column that hid the bomb.

I squeezed the trigger again, the gun’s recoil jolting my arms. The rear window erupted in a shower of glittering shards, the crack of shattering glass piercing the air. Tires squealed against asphalt as the vehicle wrenched into a sharp turn up the ramp. As the car straightened out with the winding of the engine, I steadied my aim and fired again, the muzzle flash briefly illuminating the darkness.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

“Shit!”

“The SUV just left the parking garage,” Seth said moments before muffled gunshots echoed outside.

Given the lack of all clear, Seth’s last-ditch efforts failed to stop Vosch, too.

Worse, the bomb lay on its side, several feet from where I left it, and as I drew closer, something sinister caught my eye:

Numbers on a small screen, flashing one at a time.

73.

72.

---