Page 91 of Turn the Tide
Berlin, Germany
Sunday, March 6, 12:45 p.m. CET
Ashley bolted off the elevator and dashed outside onto the landing of the stone steps. The freezing wind snapped at her face, and she drew in a lungful of crisp air.
Six men and women in suits and earpieces with the government trademark white coil cord attached trained their drawn weapons on her. The real BfV.
She raised her hands, clinging to the thumb drive. It would’ve taken ten minutes,zehn minuten, to complete the download. They got some of the files in the short time the drive had been connected to the computer, but not all of them. She’d glimpsed the toolbar showing that 30 percent of the data had been uploaded and transmitted via a link somewhere.
The rest of the data might’ve been erased from the USB device, but if it hadn’t, she wasn’t letting the drive go.
Two of her captors, who had ridden in the van with her, opened fire from behind the German officers. But there were two more lurking somewhere.
Ducking out of the line of gunfire, Ashley spotted Mike aiming at her assailants.
She dove behind a massive concrete pillar, taking cover. Her face throbbed with pain, and a vicious ache pulsed in her left hand. Once they made it through this—and she was making it out alive with Logan—she needed a tetanus shot.
Glasses dashed through the front doors. Without hesitation, he shot at the BfV. His gaze flickered to hers, and he took aim, but security guards burst outside, seizing his attention.
She dashed to the next column while he was distracted pumping ammo into the guards.
Her heart was a hammer. Her nerves overworked. Determination was the only thing powering her. She hugged the cold pillar. Being out in the open—close, too damn close to Glasses—was no good. Five feet to the next column. If she hurried, she’d reach it.
She scrambled to put more distance between her and Glasses. A fusillade of bullets raked the ground near her feet and smacked the stone beside her head.
Risking a glance over her shoulder, she spotted Glasses on the move in her direction.
Something heavy sideswiped her, bringing her down to the hard ground. Her head slammed against the pavement with a crack, and her ears rang.
The man who’d tackled her—one of her previous captors—stood in front of her. Glasses emerged in her blurry vision, towering over her beside the other guy.
He stomped on her hand with his boot heel.
Agony exploded. She screamed, the sound washed out in the thunder of gunfire. Her other hand opened on reflex.
The thumb drive clattered to the ground, and the second man picked it up.
Glasses aimed his gun at her head.
Her heart locked.Please, please, no. Don’t let it end like this.After running, fighting for what’s right, reuniting with Logan, she didn’t want to die.
But Glasses was going to kill her.
Her final prayer wasn’tHail Mary, full of grace. It was for Logan, that her death not cause him any more pain, that he not blame himself. He deserved peace and happiness.
Glasses gave a ghost of a smile, a triumphant gleam in his eyes, and squeezed the trigger.
Click!The hammer struck the firing pin.
His gun was empty.
Something electric snapped through Ashley like the crack of a whip. She drew in both legs, leaning back for added power, and kicked him. The best defense when you were down on the ground.
He stumbled backward, his arms windmilling.
A bullet whizzed overhead and clipped Glasses. He scrambled out of the trajectory of rifle fire, holding the side of his neck.
Another hot slug slammed into the other man’s temple. The USB device skittered onto the concrete. Eyes frozen open and mouth gaping, he dropped to the ground.
