Page 9 of Flint's Battle

“Police. Drop the weapon and keep your hands where I can see them.”

The man jumped, jerking his head toward her, his weapon not quite pointing in the right direction. The kind of opportunity Flint would have capitalized on to take the fucker out, especially when he knew they might not get another one.

But this wasn’t a covert mission, and Emery had different procedures she had to follow. Which meant, Flint was adapting to her lead. Had that asshole in his sights. Was ready to drop the guy if he so much as twitched. All the while maintaining a vigil in case his buddies showed up. Tried to ambush them.

Emery stood her ground, trusting Flint to have her back. “Drop the weapon, or I’ll drop you.”

The guy glared at her then moved, training his weapon on her. The kind of firepower that could eat right through her vest. Not that he got a chance to fire before she had him flying backwards into the wall, blood seeping out from a shot to his shoulder, just outside his vest. The kind of accuracy he’d only witnessed inside the Teams.

Another two seconds, and she was racing inside the room — had those frat boys up and running. They reached the doorway just as three more heavily armed tangos appeared at the end of the hallway. All wearing that same body armor.

Flint grabbed the students, all but tossing them inside the room across the hall before tackling Emery to the ground. Covering her as a barrage of bullets blanketed the corridor. He got off a few trigger pulls — hitting those fuckers square in the chest and knocking them down — then yanked her up and into that same room, ushering everyone to the back.

He ran his flashlight along the inner wall, focusing on where part of the drywall had rotted away. A few steps back then he wasbarreling toward it, bracing the impact with his shoulder before carrying on through the wall and into the next area. Landing in a heap on the floor. Dust billowed through the air, chunks of drywall and wood spraying out across the concrete. Pain sparked through his torso, but it beat being trapped.

Emery was at his side a second later, mumbling something about him being insane, as she helped him up. She looked over her shoulder when footsteps echoed down the hall, the men obviously recovered from the hits to their armor. “Stairs. Go!”

The kids took off, sprinting faster than Flint had anticipated as Emery followed after them, popping out from around the corner to fire down the hallway. Someone grunted, her shot obviously hitting home before she was back at his side, matching his strides. They took the stairs two at a time, reaching the main level just as the far doors opened. Two more tangos bustling through from the section they hadn’t been able to clear wasn’t what Flint had been hoping for. Had him adapting, again.

A couple quick steps, and he got in front of Emery and the kids — took a hit to his vest before getting off two shots. One tango dropped, but the other merely jerked backwards, the bullet blocked by his damn armor. But it was enough to get them to the exit and outside.

Emery ushered the kids to the hatchback, covering the entrance as the boys jumped in. “Nearest police station. Now.”

The one kid nodded then took off, spinning his tires and shooting gravel across the road as the car fishtailed out of the driveway and onto the main road. Flint moved in beside her, covering her ass as she retrieved her phone — called dispatch.

“Delta Sierra Two requesting backup. Multiple armed suspects. I need a chopper, the K-9 unit. Hell, send tactical if you can. And I needed them here five minutes ago.”

That guy — Barry — shouted something, but Emery shoved the phone back in her pocket. Had her gun at the ready, again.

Flint gave her a quick once-over. “You hit?”

“Nope. But I see you managed to take one to the vest keeping us clear. Please tell me it held?”

“I’ll be bruised but nothing major. We bugging out?”

“And let those assholes escape? I don’t?—”

An engine revving in the distance drowned out whatever else she was going to say, followed by the squealing of tires.

Flint didn’t wait for Emery to direct him, simply grabbed her arm and took off for the Jeep. His head on a swivel. His gun at the ready. Emery jumped in the passenger side, motioning for him to punch it when a white panel van shot out from the far corner of the building, blowing past them going some insane speed.

Flint leaned over and shoved her beneath the dash when one of the assholes fired at them from the rear of the van, cracking the windshield. Two of the bullets hit the seats, tuffs of fabric billowing through the cabin. What would have caught her in the shoulder if they’d been sitting there, staring.

Two seconds for the gunman to get out of range, then Flint was up and shoving the Jeep into reverse. He flew out of the parking lot, spun the vehicle a full one-eighty, popped it into gear then surged forward, quickly working through the gears.

Emery had the lights and siren on, was updating dispatch on their pursuit. Less than a minute, and they’d closed in on that van, following it as it raced along the highway. The rear doors opened, that same tango aiming at them.

Flint dodged the Jeep off to the right, weaving back and forth as Emery rolled down her window — hung halfway out. Flint yelled at her to get back inside, but she stayed put, firing off a few rounds. The first two hit the bumper, but she managed to catch a tire with the third, careening the vehicle off to the right. It jumped through some wire fencing then down a steep embankment, disappearing from sight onto the rocks below.

Flint pulled the Wrangler over, scrambling out and meeting Emery on her side. But she was already racing for the cliff, following the track the van had taken.

He did his best to shadow her, hoping the van had rolled or was at least stuck. Anything to prevent the perps from staging another assault.

She slowed once they reached the bottom, clearing each direction on what appeared to be some kind of bike path, then continued over to the other side. The van was wedged against some rocks along a stretch of beach, the rear doors still open. Steam poured out of the hood, with pieces of glass and metal scattered across the sand.

Flint pulled in beside her, making a few hand signals. He’d go left as she went right.

Emery nodded, veering off once they reached the rocky section — disappearing around the other side of the van.

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