Page 66 of Dublin Debacle

Another man in black appeared at Emily’s side.

“Stop that car!” Emily shouted.

The man didn’t stop the car. He flung Emily over his shoulder and ran toward the limousine.

The back door opened, Emily was tossed into the vehicle, and the door closed behind her. Before she could rise, a man pointed a gun at her face.

“If you move, he’ll shoot you,” Orla said, seated on the leather upholstery.

Emily glared at the woman. “You’re the Flamethrower.”

The woman stared down her nose at Emily. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It wasn’t your brother. It was you,” Emily said. “You hired the mercenaries. You had them kill the leaders of the Radicals and the Travellers. You were the one sending the hate messages.”

The woman’s mouth quirked on the corners. “Yes, and my brother will take all the blame.”

CHAPTER15

Jack had just hitthe mercenary in the back of his neck with the stun gun when he heard Emily’s voice screaming in his ear, “Stop her! She’s the one! She hired the mercenaries!”

The mercenary reacted to the electronic jolt going through him and dropped to the ground. The people around him jumped back.

“He’s one of the mercenaries, like Rory said,” Jack said. “Hold him down. He’s probably armed.”

When no one moved, Jack whipped off his belt, dragged the man’s arms behind his back and wrapped the belt around them, pulling it snug so that he couldn’t get loose. Then he turned to the man beside him as one of the Garda started toward them. “Hold him for the Garda. You don’t want him to get up. He’s dangerous.”

“Stop that car!” Emily shouted in Jack’s ear again.

He pushed his way through the crowd, heading back the way he’d come. Emily wasn’t where he’d left her. On the edge of the crowd, he saw a man dressed like a Garda carrying a woman with blond hair toward a limousine.

Jack’s heart leaped into his throat.

That blonde was Emily.

He knew it like he knew the sky was blue.

As he burst through the crowd's edge, the limousine moved slowly through the people still gathering.

Jack ran, dodging people left and right.

The limousine moved faster, pulling away from Jack.

“No, no, no!”

“What’s happening?” one of his Brotherhood said into his ear.

“Limousine. Getting away. With Emily.” He pushed harder. “Need backup.”

A barricade of Garda vehicles blocked the road ahead, giving the limousine only one direction to turn. As it slowed to make that turn, Jack picked up speed, cut across the sidewalk and leaped onto the front of the limousine, landing on the windshield in front of the driver.

The limousine swerved. Jack held on, his legs sliding to the left. The limousine swerved back the other direction and slammed into something.

Jack was launched off the hood, landing flat on his back on the sidewalk, the wind knocked from his lungs.

For a fraction of a second, he lay stunned, unable to pull air into his body. Then he gasped, rolled to his feet and ran for the vehicle.

The driver lay slumped over the wheel. The back door opened, and the woman who’d been standing behind Cormac Faherty at the rally crawled out. She looked up at Jack and pointed into the limousine. “That man has a gun!” she cried. “He tried to kidnap us.” The woman scrambled to her feet and ran.

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