Page 40 of Kent's Honor
“Boss put me in charge, so do what I say, or I’ll tell him about how you fucked up the surveillance in the first place.”
Blue Eyes narrowed his eyes. “That wasn’t all my fault.”
Dixie helped Elle to her feet while Blue Eyes stomped out of the house.
Tissue Man looked over his shoulder several times and then raced to her side.
She pushed Elle behind her back.
“I’m not going to hurt you. We have only a few minutes. I’m an undercover federal agent, and I’m waiting to hear from my handler so that I can?—”
Bang!
Elle screamed.
Tissue Man’s eyes widened as he arched his back, falling to his knees.
“Knew there was something wrong with you.” Blue Eyes raised the gun at Dixie.
Her body trembled as her gaze went from the man groaning on the ground and the other man inching his way forward with a sinister smile.
Think. Think.
What would Kent do? What would her father have done in a situation like this?
Kent bolted from the car the second he heard the gunshot, followed by an ear-piercing scream. His heart nearly stopped, picturing Elle lying on the ground with a bullet in her body.
Or Dixie.
Or both.
“Kent,” Arthur yelled.
“Nothing you can say or do that will stop me from charging in.” Kent glanced over his shoulder.
“Didn’t expect you to, but I’m not letting you go alone or unarmed.” Arthur’s feet hit the pavement as he carried two weapons in his hand. “I’ll take the front; you go around back.”
“I’ve got the north side,” Rex yelled as he ran past.
Kent did his best to push all negative thoughts from his mind. He tried to calm his pulse to something close to a normal combat situation, though he was more used to running into a burning building with a hose, not a hostile situation with a gun.
Not that he hadn’t done it a time or two with the Aegis Network.
He pressed his back to the side of the house, peering into the backyard. An old door, barely hanging on the hinges, swayed, making a creaking noise. The noise would help. He peeked into the window, and his heart sank to the pit of his gut.
Elle stood behind Dixie, her face buried in her back, while Dixie stared down the wrong end of a pistol. The undercover agent was on the floor, bleeding, trying to move but couldn’t. Kent couldn’t tell where he’d been hit, but the look on his face, and the way his legs remained still while he withered his upper body, told Kent it wasn’t good.
The man with the scar, which they now knew went by the name Dune Dog, grabbed Dixie by the neck, pressing the gun against her temple, and licked her cheek.
Kent swallowed the bile that smacked the back of his throat. If he had a clear shot, he’d take it, but it was too risky. That motherfucker was going to get hurt for doing that. Kent ducked down, inching toward the back door, trying not to make a sound, sidestepping a few twigs. He’d be able to get in undetected, but based on the angle of the kitchen, he’d be seen the second he approached the table.
There was no way either of his buddies could enter through the front door without being seen, so hopefully one of them had found access through a window somewhere.
Gently, he stepped through the door, weapon on the ready.
“You’re a pretty little thing,” Dune Dog said.
The way his voice cooed made Kent want to vomit.
