a screwup with the guy covering for me at the UN.”
Alec grimaced. “Speaking of screwups, I hate to tell you this, but the trial won’t actually start until tomorrow—I just found out or I’d have called you. The jury was supposed to be seated this morning, and the trial was going to open with the big guns—Caterina Mateja’s testimony—but it’s been put off for a day. Last-minute pretrial motions. Sorry I got you down here a day too soon.”
Liam shrugged. “Not a problem. I didn’t have any other plans.”
“So you’re really on vacation? For three whole weeks? How’d you wangle that?”
“Three whole weeks,” Liam agreed, then affected a pious air. “Clean living.”
“Yeah right,” his brother scoffed.
“Well, it might have something to do with the fact that I haven’t taken any vacation at all so far this year, and my boss would like me to use up some of it before he sends me out of the country.”
“That’s sounds more like it.”
Liam grinned. “So are we on for dinner tonight? Or do you have to rush back to your blushing bride?” He made a sound like a squawking hen, devilishly teasing his brother the way they’d done to each other since they were kids.
Alec cursed him genially, fake-punched his shoulder, then grinned, too, and said, “Angel’s given me the night off—she’s having dinner with her cousin.” He tilted his head in Caterina Mateja’s direction. “I’m off-limits there. I’m not supposed to have any contact with her—the trial judge was quite clear about that. But the restriction doesn’t include Angel since she’s not a witness in this trial. And Caterina will need her moral support.”
He shook his head regretfully. “The defense attorneys will rip her to shreds if they can. They’ll paint her as black as the judge will let them get away with. A vengeful prostitute is what they’ll call her, out to get her former lover—so they’ll say—any way she can for dumping her. Even lying to convict him.”
“Any truth to that?”
Alec bent a hard stare on his brother. “I’m going to pretend you never asked me that question.”
Liam shook his head. “Look I know she’s your wife’s cousin and all that, but—”
“But nothing,” Alec said in a steely voice. “You don’t know what Caterina’s been through. If you had any idea...if you knew the courage it’s taking for her to face these men—especially Aleksandrov Vishenko—and testify in open court, you wouldn’t—”
The chatter of submachine gunfire and screams from civilians echoing through the cavernous rotunda interrupted whatever Alec had intended to say next. Both brothers spun toward the gunfire, reaching simultaneously for their SIG SAUERs. And both brothers saw immediately they were shielded from the gunmen’s sight by the marble pillar they were standing behind.
How the hell did they get Uzis past the metal detectors? Past the guards at the door? were Liam’s first thoughts, but he didn’t waste more than a couple of seconds on those questions. His gaze swung toward the woman he was pretty sure was the intended target. The marshals had her down on the floor, covering her body with theirs as they tried to return fire. Both prosecutors were also down—but not voluntarily. One was obviously dead, a grim sight. The other was still alive, but for how long was anyone’s guess. And the marshals weren’t faring much better. One was wounded in the thigh, the other had taken a spray of bullets to his nonshooting arm and shoulder. Both were doing their damnedest to shield Caterina, but they were caught out in the open with only the bench for shelter and no warning. And semiautomatics were a pitiful defense against submachine guns.
“Cover me,” Alec said, darting to his right, not even waiting for acknowledgment. Liam switched his gun to his left hand—thank God I’m ambidextrous, he thought—operating on instinct and training that was second nature after so many years, not to mention a lifelong knowledge of his brother. He peered around the marble column, took careful aim and fired a volley of shots at the men with the submachine guns to distract them from Alec circling around behind to get the drop on them. Liam had the savage satisfaction of hearing a scream of pain as one of his shots found its target.
One down, he thought, still on autopilot. One to go. He switched his gun back to his right hand, moved in the other direction and fired again from the other side of the column, emptying the clip. His spare clip, which he carried in his jacket pocket, was already in his left hand. Seconds was all it took to eject the empty clip and slam the full one home. Seconds he didn’t really have, because one of the Uzis was still firing.
But then he recognized the sound of Alec’s SIG SAUER, followed by an agonized scream—not Alec’s voice. When he slid cautiously out from behind the pillar he saw Alec kicking the Uzis away from both downed gunmen, and he started running toward his brother. But Alec had other ideas.
“They’re dead,” he shouted to Liam across the rotunda. “Get Caterina the hell out of here. She dies, this case dies, too.”
Liam hesitated for only a second. Then he turned in the direction of Caterina and the US Marshals shielding her. “Diplomatic Security Service,” he announced quickly, displaying his badge before the men could draw a bead on him. “That’s my brother over there with the gunmen. He’s DSS, too.”
Both marshals were bleeding heavily, but they were still conscious. “Your brother’s right,” one man gasped. “It might be just those two, but who the hell knows? Get her to safety.” He rolled off Caterina as he said this, and Liam—still carrying his gun in his right hand—reached down with his left hand to help her to her feet. Blood had dripped from the wounded men onto the dress she was wearing, and there was blood on her arm, but Liam was glad to see she appeared to be unhurt. Shocked. Dazed. But physically untouched.
He grasped her arm as a courtroom door down the hallway opened and a dozen spectators spilled out, along with the deputy assigned to that courtroom. “Come on,” he urged, pulling Caterina behind him, shielding her with his body just as the marshals had done.
It took no time at all for Liam to decide going out the front door was too risky. He didn’t know what other exits there were in the building, but he did know there was a garage downstairs. A garage where he’d parked this morning, not knowing that spending the few extra dollars to park beneath the courthouse instead of a couple of blocks away would be a lifesaver.
He hustled Caterina to the nearest stairwell—he knew better than to try for an elevator that could become a death trap—never letting go of her arm. He’d just thrust her through the doorway when he caught sight of two men moving purposely toward them. But the men were on the other side of the rotunda, too far away to catch them if they didn’t dawdle.
Time seemed to stretch out in that odd way it does when adrenaline is pumping, and Liam’s thoughts raced ahead of his body as they clattered down the stairs. Garage. SUV. Police station? No, too many unknowns. Uzis in the courthouse. Conspiracy? Those two men. Good guys or bad? No way to tell. Need a bolt-hole. Safe house. Who to trust?
Alec, of course, but Alec couldn’t be a part of this. Not now.
Liam practically threw Caterina into the backseat of his SUV. “Get down on the floor,” he ordered brusquely. He grabbed a blanket out of the emergency pack he kept in the rear, and spread it lengthwise over Caterina’s body. “Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. I don’t want anyone to
