Mistaken Target. Sharon Dunn

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Mistaken Target - Sharon Dunn Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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that confidential and protected information from the FBI—would go a long way to finding out who had blown his cover.

      “Yes... I suppose. It was only for a quick second.” Her voice sounded far away, as if she couldn’t accept the reality of what she’d experienced. “I’m not sure how well I could describe him, but if I saw him again, I’d recognize him.”

      “We’ll get back to the mainland. I’ll fix this,” he said. He meant it. His lack of forethought had dragged her into this mess. That meant that it was his responsibility to keep her safe.

      “Will you?” Disbelief colored her voice. She whirled around and trudged forward.

      Her words were like a knife through his heart. He was a man of his word. Why would she doubt that? He shook off his frustration. Fine, he’d have to prove himself to her. He surveyed the dark shoreline. He knew from the landmarks along the beach where to find the boat. “Over here.”

      The boat was pulled halfway up the shore. He moved to the back of the boat to start the motor. The cold water of the bay suctioned around his feet.

      “Once I get the motor started, I’ll need your help pushing it out to deeper water.”

      She nodded and then turned back toward the tree line. She was smart enough to watch for their attacker without being told. For a girl from the burbs, she had solid survival instincts.

      After twisting the throttle, he yanked the rip cord once. The motor sputtered but didn’t ignite to life. He tried again, exerting more force. Still no results. He tried a third time. The engine sparked and then caught.

      “He’s here. I see him.” Her voice reverberated with terror.

      Diego glanced up, not seeing anything distinct. The shooter must still be close to the trees. “Let’s go. We can make it. Jump in to steer. I’ll push off.”

      As he pushed the boat off the sand, the first gunshot came so close to his head his ear stung with pain. Samantha flattened herself in the boat with her hand still on the rudder. He jumped in. More shots were fired as the assassin made his way toward the water.

      The motor clattered and then stopped altogether.

      “We can restart it,” Samantha said.

      The shooter was too close. They weren’t going to make it out of the inlet in time. “We’ve gotta bail.”

      He dived into the water and prayed that Samantha would do the same. He swam parallel to the beach, toward a rock formation that would shield them. He pulled himself up on the hard, rough stone.

      A moment later, Samantha’s head bobbed to the surface. He pulled her up. Both of them were shivering. He peered around the rocks. “He’s trying to save the boat. Now’s our chance to get away.”

      He slipped back into the icy water, swimming toward the beach but putting distance between himself and the man struggling to push the malfunctioning boat back to shore. The attacker would be as wet and cold as they were by the time he rescued that boat.

      They hurried back toward the camp, running across the rocky shore and then into the trees.

      A gunshot exploded behind them. Samantha stuttered in her step, releasing a scream that was almost a gasp. “Keep moving,” he commanded. Gripping Samantha’s hand, Diego sprinted into the shelter of the forest.

      He zigzagged through the evergreens. The sound of the assailant close on their heels, footsteps and branches breaking, spurred him to run faster. Though they were shrouded in darkness, Diego managed to steer them back to the camp.

      Several minutes passed without any additional gunfire. They slowed their pace, both of them out of breath and glancing over their shoulders.

      “He can’t be far behind.” Diego resumed a jog.

      Samantha ran beside him. “We have to get help. There must be some way to communicate with the mainland in case of emergencies. Let’s see if there’s a radio in the community room.”

      She was right—but it still wasn’t a great option. It would take hours for help to arrive. Hours they’d have to spend dodging their attacker and trying to find a way to warn and protect the caretaker before morning came and he left the safety of his cabin. “That’s where we go, then.”

      He turned and started running. She followed behind him.

      Moonlight reflected off the metal roof of the community room. He surveyed the area around them. No sign of their assassin. Had they shaken him or did he have another trick up his sleeve?

      They entered the community room. Samantha wandered around the small space opening doors and slamming them, searching for anything useful. She tossed a blanket in his direction after grabbing one for herself. “Where would a radio be?”

      They were both shivering and wet. She drew the blanket tighter around her. Diego continued to search for the radio. “We should go back to the cabins and get dry clothes,” she said.

      He came up beside her. “He might be searching the cabins. That would explain why he didn’t come here first.”

      He looked around. The room was maybe twelve by sixteen feet. There weren’t that many places to put a radio.

      He walked over to a small cupboard and opened it. Shook his head in disbelief. “No.”

      She turned toward him, voice filled with worry. “What is it?”

      “The radio is here, but it’s been disabled.” That must be why the assassin was delayed in getting down to them at the bay. He must have seen them heading toward the boat but estimated he had time to destroy any chance of getting help before coming after them. The guy had to be a pro. Not some teenage gangbanger trying to earn his stripes. And how had he known to look in the community room? He must have had intel ahead of time.

      Samantha couldn’t conceal the fear in her voice. “What do we do now?” She lifted her gaze toward him, eyes filled with expectation.

      He glanced out the dusty window, feeling the heaviness of what they were up against. “He’s out there watching us. I feel it.”

      * * *

      Feeling a chill, she pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. “We’re sitting ducks in here.”

      “We’re sitting ducks anywhere on this island. We have to get off it. I still say that’s our best option.” Diego paced the perimeter of the cabin, peering through each window. “There must be an emergency raft or something. Did you see anything like that?”

      She shook her head. “The caretaker would know and maybe he has some way other than the radio that he uses to communicate with the mainland. Do you think we have time to get over to his cabin before the man with the gun finds us?”

      “We might have to do that. George is going to come out of that cabin in a couple of hours and start wandering around anyway.” Diego’s expression made it clear he didn’t like that option. He let the blanket fall to the floor. His hand went to his waistband, brushing over a gun his sweater had covered.

      She took a step back, wondering if the greater danger wasn’t in the room with her.

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