Christmas Captive. Liz Johnson

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Christmas Captive - Liz  Johnson Men of Valor

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away from these men, who had clearly been watching Elaina.

      “We don’t know where she is. She’s not back at her room yet,” said the guy who’d announced he was going to call the boss.

      The undeniable crackle of a walkie-talkie bounced down the hallway, but Amy couldn’t understand what had been said.

      “Sure. We’ll get her before they arrive.” Shoving his friend, he said, “Start looking.”

      Who was they? And what exactly did they want with Elaina Torres?

      Whatever it was wasn’t good. And Amy couldn’t wait around to find out.

      The deep voices dropped low, and then their footsteps stopped for a long moment before one took off in the other direction. Her heart kicked into overdrive. This was their chance to make a break for it.

      Leaning down, she whispered to Elaina, “Hold my hand and don’t let go.”

      “Are we going to find my dad?”

      They were going to find safety and get help. No matter what.

       TWO

      Amy held Elaina’s hand so tightly that their fingers shook. Or maybe that was the rest of them. Still, she pulled the girl in her wake, keeping her steps as silent and swift as possible. The halls were nearly deserted, most guests enjoying the entertainment on deck.

      Her rough breathing echoed so loudly in her own head that she couldn’t hear if either of the men had spotted them. And if they did, would they recognize Elaina as their mark?

      “Hey!” The booming voice behind them seemed to rattle the cabin doors. “Stop!”

      They’d been spotted. And apparently recognized.

      Elaina slowed down, trying to look over her shoulder, pulling on Amy’s arm.

      “Keep running,” Amy ordered. “Stay with me. Don’t look back.”

      The little girl nodded, but her shorter legs stumbled as she tried to keep up.

      There wasn’t time to stop and boost Elaina onto her back, but neither could the girl’s smaller feet keep up on her own. Amy pulled her close and swung her into her arms, the additional weight making every step twice as hard.

      Another hallway crossed in front of them. One that would lead to the stairwell that would take them back to the deck. Then they’d be in the open. And maybe near security.

      Please, God, let there be a security guard on the deck.

      Feet slapping the carpet, she held every muscle in check as they approached the turn, leaning to counterbalance the weight in her arms.

      “Stop right there!”

      She hunched her shoulders against the anticipated gunshot, then remembered she was on a cruise ship, not in the field. She expected the possibility of being shot at on a DEA assignment. She wanted to believe that she wouldn’t have to deal with that here, on the ship where no one was legally permitted to carry weapons, but she couldn’t be sure.

      The problem was that she didn’t know what to expect here. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the men talking about Elaina. There was no intel to identify their motive, their usual methods of attack or a list of their weapons.

      If she’d been in the field, alone or with her partner, she’d have looked for a strategic place to make a stand. She’d have turned and fought. She’d have disarmed first and asked questions later.

      But right now there was no place to stash Elaina where she would be safe. And the girl’s protection was all that mattered for the moment. Making a stand would put the girl at risk, so it wasn’t an option.

      As they rounded the corner, Amy caught sight of the man chasing them. She couldn’t make out his features at this speed, but his wide shoulders stretched out the same black suit she’d only glimpsed before. And he charged after them, his big feet eating up the passageway as if he were an angry bull. There was something in his hand, something big and deadly stretched out in their direction.

      He did have a gun.

      Speed was still crucial, but she also concentrated on remembering to dodge and weave. She swooped to the left then returned to hugging the wall.

      Anything to keep him off center and ensure that if he shot, his bullet would miss.

      Dodge and weave.

      Her mantra matched the speed of her footsteps as she flew down the hall.

      They just had to keep running faster than the man behind them until they lost him. Or found someone who could help.

      But the corridor seemed to be deserted, every cabin door shut tight.

      Suddenly Elaina’s whole body jerked, her grip around Amy’s shoulders nearly breaking as she cried loudly. Amy swallowed the scream that rose in her throat as the shift in balance nearly tripped her, forcing her to come to a momentary stop. Tears filled Elaina’s eyes, and between trembling gasps she said, “My hand slipped. Sorry.”

      Amy dismissed the apology with a wave, hoisting the girl higher on her hip and holding on tighter. But in the moments it took to get moving again, Amy glanced back at their pursuer. He’d stopped, planting his feet shoulder-width apart and raising his gun at arm’s length.

      Her heart leaped to her throat, and she stumbled as she flew toward the end of the hall and a glowing red exit sign, always keeping herself between Elaina and the gun.

      Please. Please. If they could just make it through that door, they might find help.

      Amy crashed against the metal handle, shoving it open and tumbling against Elaina as the telltale whistle of a bullet fired through a silencer zipped toward her back.

      “Go. Go. Go.” She cheered herself on, forcing herself to watch her feet and cling to the banister with her free hand.

      Her shoes clanged loudly down the metal stairs. But there was no time to worry about silencing them.

      That man was willing to take a shot when one of the cabin doors might have opened up at any moment. He either knew something she didn’t that made him believe he wouldn’t get caught, or he had nothing to lose.

      Or both.

      Probably both.

      Her head spun as they sailed around a turn and another set of clanging footsteps joined hers.

      He was gaining on them. He’d reach them long before she could get Elaina to safety.

      Dear God, help us. It was the only prayer she could manage as her heart kept up a steady tattoo. Go. Go. Go.

      And then another whistle, so high-pitched that she felt rather than heard it, sailed past. The shot splintered the corner of the door frame as they barreled through it. Elaina screamed.

      Good.

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