Page 19 of Edge of Danger

The gunfire intensified into a deafening cacophony, like a firing range full of machine guns. Ian dodged to the left into a recessed storefront and she careened after him, almost losing her balance when he turned so abruptly in front of her.

“Get down!” he ordered.

She crouched beside him.

“Get inside this store. Quietly if you can. I’ll cover you.” He glided forward, toward the front of the dark cave of plywood that used to be display windows.

He was trusting her with a real job? Cool. Of course, now she had to come through and deliver or else lose his respect in the last two minutes before they both lost their lives. They weretrapped in this doorway unless she could open the door at their backs.

She moved in for a closer look. An iron grille covered its outside, a plywood sheet its inside. Locked, of course. She didn’t have her lock picks with her, and besides, she wasn’t very fast with picks. She pulled out her pistol, aimed carefully, and waited until a loud burst of gunfire erupted nearby. She sent a bullet into the lock. The sound echoed around in the confined space twice as loud as a regular gunshot.

“What the hell are you doing?” McCloud bit out. “I said quietly. Are youtryingto get us killed?”

“I’mtryingto get us an escape route out of the dead end you led us into.”

She gave the door a tug. The lock was damaged but not quite destroyed.

“Get it opennow…here come about eight guys.” Double taps started reverberating from immediately behind her as Ian commenced picking off the incoming hostiles.

One. Two.Morbidly, she counted them in her head as she whipped out her Tavor for a sustained burst of lead.

Three. Four.She held down her finger long enough to send a half-dozen rounds into the door.

Five.It was a horrendous waste of her limited ammo. But they were going to die if that door didn’t fly off the hinges in the next few seconds.Six.

“Got it,” she called out over the sounds of the seventh cluster of shots. Damn, Ian was a good shot.

“Fall back. Get inside!” he ordered.

Well, obviously.

She ducked inside a cavernous, utterly black space. Warehouse, maybe. Squinting in the darkness and unable to make out a thing, she crouched against the wall beside the door.A large shape barreled through the opening beside her.Ian. She felt him more than saw him.

“Go right!” she called over the barrage of gunfire nipping at his heels.

While Ian dived and rolled to the right on command, she spun into the doorway and fired a spray out into the street. Two figures flew backward. Neither moved. She yanked her weapon up and spun to the left side of the doorway.

Ian jumped back into the opening, his MP-7 at the ready. He reached forward and yanked the remains of the door shut. Complete blackness enveloped them. A momentary lull in the shooting settled around them.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “Kill anyone who tries to come through that door. He fumbled around for a moment, but she couldn’t identify what he was doing by the sound of it. Then he moved off quickly into the void. Great. The bastard was leaving her to guard his retreat while he got away.

Except as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she dismissed it. He was a natural-born hero. He would never leave the woman behind. It was a sexist attitude on his part, but tonight she wasn’t going to pick a fight with him over his subtle misogyny.

In the faint hint of light seeping past the splintered plywood, she made out Ian coming back to her side. He shoved a long something, a piece of wood maybe, through the front door handles. The wood caught on each side of the door frame. It wouldn’t keep anyone really motivated from shooting their way through the door, but it would slow down a hostile for a few moments.

She made out something else. A bulky block protruding from the middle of Ian’s forehead and covering his eyes. Night optical devices. Her first reaction should have been relief. But honestly,it was chagrin. She didn’t have NOD’s, dammit. A prepared operative would have brought some.

“Grab my belt,” he muttered.

Great. Just what she needed. To be led around in the dark, blind and helpless, completely dependent on him for her life. Resigned to his smugness when they got out of this mess, she did as he bid. He moved out fast. She stumbled along like a drunk, her fist clenching his belt like a damned lifeline.

And then, all of a sudden, his belt dropped toward the floor, all but wrenching her arm out of the socket as she was yanked down with him. Off balance, she fell on top of him. Ian rolled on top of her fast.

She lost her grip on his belt—not that it mattered. She knew precisely where he was located from her collarbones to the tip of her toes. Every hard, heavy, muscular inch of him.

A hand clapped over her mouth. She started to fight but then realized from the angle that it was Ian’s hand.

He breathed, “Still got that cloth wrap thing Mala gave you?”

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