there was a small handle. He rose to his feet, nice and slow, while waiting for a new round of shooting to start. When that didn’t happen, he went the rest of the way. He lifted his hand and felt nothing but air. On the second try, he jumped and his fingers brushed the handle. Grabbing it, he brought the door down.
Before she could argue, he took her by the waist and lifted. Her feet left the floor and she let out a half yelp before clamping her mouth shut again.
With only the rustling of clothing as noise, her body and then her legs disappeared into the dark hole above. A second later her face popped into the space. “Be careful.”
He shut the door before she could say anything else. Now to bury the obvious entry. After a short mental countdown, he jumped, using the wall as leverage, and grabbed the handle. The yank pressed the hard metal into his palm but didn’t come off. He only managed to knock the handle loose.
The second lunge cut his palm but did the trick. With a crack the handle fell off. He stuffed it into his pocket and hoped the shadowed hallway would do the rest to provide cover.
Then he moved. The corner at the end of the hall qualified as the perfect place. He could squat down and wait for the inevitable. Problem was, Julia sat right above. A stray bullet could ricochet and hit her, and he couldn’t let that happen. That meant moving into the open, being more vulnerable, but he’d take the chance.
The kitchen worked as an alternative. He pivoted around the edge of the small island and hunkered down by the stove. Now began the game to see who would flinch first.
These guys didn’t disappoint. One kicked in the front door and another stormed in the back. With the size of the house, they could have run right into each other if they hadn’t stopped their momentum. They whispered and traded theories on his location. Cam heard it all.
Not seeing them, he had to concentrate on the voices and the footsteps to plot their positions. He had two in the small family room and one unaccounted for. Close enough.
When one came within range of the kitchen, Cam still held his position. Not moving. The preference was to take them alive. Much easier to question a breathing man than a dead one. Then the one who acted like the sidekick almost stepped on Cam’s hand.
He sprang to his feet with an arm wrapped around the guy’s throat as he faced down the one dressed as the police chief. The one who had all the facts and who’d sat in the office, pretending to be the police chief, which raised a lot of questions.
“Put the gun down.” Cam issued the order as he backed his hostage into the family room and away from the hallway where Julia hid above.
The fake chief wore a smile that could only be described as feral. “You have been a problem.”
No kidding. That was exactly what Cam got paid to handle. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“Lower the weapon and we’ll let the woman live.” One gave the orders while the other tightened his hold on Cam’s arm to keep from being choked.
They’d seen her or guessed. Either way, them knowing limited Cam’s options even further. Pretty soon he’d be down to about one.
Still, there was no reason to make it easy for them. “What woman?”
“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Roth.” That sick smile widened. “Yes, I know your real name.”
That wasn’t good at all. That wasn’t the name he’d given as cover for the witness pickup. If the guy knew who he really was, he likely knew that the Corcoran Team was on the island. The mission could be blown. The same mission that was supposed to be exploratory only and not combat.
Just what they needed—more danger.
Cam’s heel hit the back of the sofa and he stopped. “Where’s the real police chief?”
“You need to stop asking questions and listen.” The guy used a man-to-man tone, as if they were having a chat about everyday things. “You have five seconds before me and my men tear this place apart and grab the woman. Then we’ll see how fast you talk.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing that.” The third man stepped in from a room in the back.
Cam guessed he had found a window. Didn’t really matter how he got there. Problem was, the odds had just switched to three against one. Not impossible but not his favorite. It meant he’d have to kill two and take his chances with the third.
He had to stop the chief first. “One more step and I snap your man’s neck.”
“You think I care?” He brought up his gun and fired.
The shot exploded in front of Cam. He felt a jerk and then the man he was holding fell at full weight against Cam’s chest. He dropped him with a thud to the floor and came up firing. He nailed the one in the hallway in the shoulder and knocked him back. The chief dived to the side and Cam dropped down as he scrambled around the couch.
The scene moved in slow motion, but Cam knew it took only a few deafening seconds. As shots continued to ring out, he blocked the hammering of adrenaline through his body and the grunts and heavy breathing filling the room.
He turned to get off a covering shot and took a quick inventory: one dead guy on the floor and the chief missing. The wounded shooter stood in that back room and fired random shots into the family room that kept Cam ducking. He was about to take a diving shot when he saw the crawl-space door drop. Not the whole way but enough to be noticed if anyone was looking.
The creak of the hinges had the shooter looking up. It was the distraction Cam needed. The guy shifted just enough to aim his gun into the dark hole, and Cam fired. Nailed him in the head this time and sent him crashing into the wall and then sprawling to the floor.
Cam jumped to his feet and searched the family room and kitchen. The place looked like a war zone. Shot-up walls and broken glass. A shredded curtain and papers scattered everywhere. He didn’t even know where half the stuff came from.
But a clear inside didn’t mean they were safe. He checked the porch and scanned the front of the property for any signs of the fake chief fleeing into the woods but didn’t see anything, including the truck that had been out there a few minutes ago.
“Julia?” He didn’t bother whispering or covering. The men knew she was there and now all but the fake chief lay dead on her floor. “Talk to me.”
When she didn’t say anything he stalked to the end of the hall and looked up. The gun appeared first, then her face. “That was pretty awful.”
Her voice shook, but she wasn’t throwing up, so he took that as a good sign. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
The shaking grew stronger and he worried about shock. “Any chance you could be more definitive?”
“My legs are never going to hold me to come down again. Maybe I’ll just live up here.” She glanced down at the guy lying below her, and her eyes widened. “Did you... Is he dead?”
“Very.” And Cam didn’t want her staring at the guy. Nothing good could come out of that. He tucked his gun into his waistband and picked a position that had her looking at him and away from the still body.
