of the day, on a crowded street.
Unable to stand by while people were being attacked, Declan shrugged out of his rucksack and shoved it toward the woman he’d pushed to the ground. “Watch this,” he commanded. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The woman lay with her cheek to the ground, her eyes wide, a frown marring her pretty features. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t just stand by and do nothing.” He bunched his legs beneath himself and pushed to a low crouch.
A hand reached up to capture his arm. “Don’t. They’ll kill you.”
“If nobody does anything, they’ll kill everyone in that limousine and the security detail that was supposed to protect them.”
“But you’re only one man.” She stared up at him with soft gray eyes.
“Just watch my ruck. Everything I own is in that bag. And stay down.” He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he ran to the side of a Lincoln Town Car that had stopped short of the vans and SUVs caught in the crossfire.
The driver lay sideways in his seat, the front windshield having been peppered with bullet holes. He wasn’t moving, his eyes open, unseeing.
Declan moved on, keeping the body of the sedan between him and the men wielding submachine guns. He waited for the shooter closest to him to turn away before he pounced, throwing the man off-balance and pushing him to the ground. With a combination of surprise and strength, he took the man down and jerked his head back with a decided snap.
The man hadn’t even fired another round. He lay still, unmoving at Declan’s feet.
Declan retrieved the attacker’s submachine gun and moved to the next man closest to him. Again, his attention focused on the limousine and the crowd lying crouched against the concrete sidewalks.
Moving silently, Declan eased up behind the next guy.
A scuffle with another security guard in the limousine generated more shouting and an eruption of gunfire.
Under the resulting confusion, Declan made his move and took out the next attacker, bringing him to the road surface with barely a whimper before he snapped his neck.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
One of the attackers yanked a dead security guard out of the back seat of the limousine and reached in to grab someone.
“Let go!” a voice inside yelled.
The attacker yanked a woman out of the limousine. She had gray hair and wore a dark gray suit and sensible pumps. “Don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt anyone else.”
He pulled her against him and pointed the handgun against her temple.
Declan cursed silently beneath his breath. A hostage meant the attackers had more than the upper hand. No matter how many bad guys he took out, he couldn’t get to the one who held the bargaining chip. Unless...
He’d worked his way closer to the white van blocking the front of the limousine. A couple of bad guys stood at the front of the vehicle and one guarded the rear.
Declan rolled beneath a long black sedan parked several feet away from the van. If he could just make it to the van the kidnapper was edging toward, he might be able to...
A police car rounded the corner two blocks away, lights flashing, siren screaming. It ground to a halt. The two officers inside flung open their doors and leaped out, using the doors as shields.
“Time to go,” the kidnapper shouted. Holding his victim with the gun to her head, he hurried toward the van closest to Declan.
If the kidnapper made it inside, the police would not be able to stop him without potential injury to the woman.
The van door slid open. A man inside grabbed the kidnapper’s arm and the woman’s and yanked them both inside.
The rest of the attackers backed toward the other van, still providing cover but unaware of Declan standing near the rear of the kidnapper’s vehicle.
As the sliding door started to close, Declan reached for the back door of the van. The handle turned, the door swung open and Declan leaped in as the sliding side door slammed shut.
Four bad guys filled the interior. The kidnapper had released his charge and was in the process of shoving the woman to the floor of the van.
When she collapsed to her knees, Declan had a clear shot.
He braced himself and pulled the trigger on the submachine gun as the driver shifted the gear into Reverse.
The kidnapper and the man who’d helped him into the vehicle dropped on top of the woman and lay still.
“Stop the vehicle,” Declan yelled. “Or I’ll shoot.”
The man in the passenger seat swiveled, a handgun in the palm of his hand.
Declan didn’t hesitate—he fired several shots at the man, the bullets hitting him in the arm and penetrating the back of the seat. The man slumped forward, the pistol falling from his hand.
The driver hit the accelerator, with the vehicle still in reverse, and he pulled hard on the steering wheel.
Centrifugal force flung Declan across the bed of the van. He hit the other side with his right shoulder, losing his hold on the submachine gun. The weapon clattered to the floor and skittered beyond his fingertips, out of Declan’s reach.
As he righted himself, the driver shifted into Drive and gunned the engine.
Barely reclaiming his equilibrium, Declan staggered backward, caught himself and lunged for the driver, ready to end the rodeo. He grabbed the back of the driver’s seat to brace himself and then wrapped his arm around the driver’s throat and pulled up hard. “Park it. Now!” he yelled.
The driver clutched at the arm with one hand and steered with the other, directing the van toward a heavily populated sidewalk and the corner of a brick building beyond.
With a quick twist, Declan snapped the man’s neck, shoved him to the side, leaned over the back of the seat and steered the van away from the crowded sidewalk and back into the street crowded with other vehicles.
Though dead, the driver’s foot remained on the accelerator.
Declan held on tightly as the vehicle plowed into a delivery truck, rocking it on its wheels. The van crunched to a full stop, slinging Declan forward.
Because he held on to the back of the driver’s seat, he wasn’t thrown through the window; instead he flipped over the back of the seat, hit his head on the steering wheel and landed headfirst into the driver’s seat.
He lay stunned for a moment, a dull pain throbbing in his head where he’d hit the steering wheel, but he was alive. He pushed backward over the seat, sat down hard on the floor of the van and surveyed the carnage.
A moan sounded from beneath the two men who’d hauled the woman inside.
Declan
