Mission: Marriage. Karen Whiddon

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grenade exploded. Sean yanked Natalie into his chest, ducking his own head. Fire flashed and roared and the dilapidated building shook.

      Dust and smoke and cement rained down on them.

      Sean’s mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear for the ringing in her ears.

      More gunfire. This, she could hear. The shooter—or shooters—were moving in, hoping the grenade had done the job.

      Natalie looked at Sean. They didn’t need sound to know what the other was thinking.

      “One, two, three … go.” Moving low and fast, they sprinted for the door. As they slipped through the unstable metal, bullets sliced into it where they’d been.

      “Come on.” They took off running, guns at the ready.

      “Something’s wrong.” Natalie didn’t like the way the pounding of their feet echoed off the alley walls.

      “Too quiet.”

      Then, into the silence, they heard another sound. The unmistakable click of the grenade launcher firing.

      “Down,” Sean shouted, in the split second before the grenade hit to the left of them. It exploded on impact.

      Natalie was thrown to the ground. Sean was lost somewhere in the smoke. Damn it, she thought as she struggled to stand up. It would be a crying shame for Sean to come back from the dead only to be killed on his first mission after. If anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be her.

      At the exact instant she stood, squinting in the smoke and fire and dust, head pounding, ears ringing, looking for Sean, the concrete wall above her came tumbling down.

       Chapter 2

      “Natalie?” Sean couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. He inhaled, struggling for air. Concrete dust filled his lungs, making him double over in a racking cough. He should be grateful—at least this proved he was still alive.

      What about Natalie?

      He called her again, his voice barely rising above a croak.

      “Sean?”

      Alive! Muttering a quick prayer to the powers that be, Sean attempted to push himself up. Though he tried to harness the energy of the relief that had flooded through him at the sound of her voice, he couldn’t move. Blinded, disoriented and confused, he wasn’t sure why.

      “Sean?”

      “Over here.”

      A volley of gunshots erupted. Those damned AK-47s, blasting a path toward them. Evidently, their pursuers had garnered reinforcements and were on their way to finish off what the grenades hadn’t.

      He cursed again, struggling to lift himself off the concrete.

      “Sean, come on. We don’t have much time.” Natalie appeared out of the swirling cloud of dust, voice frantic. “Get up. We need to go. Now.”

      “I know.” Struggling to push himself up, Sean frowned. He still couldn’t move. Rubbing his eyes, he tried once more. No luck.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “I can’t—” Heart pumping overtime, he cursed when he saw the problem. The concrete wall had come down on his left foot, pinning him beneath it.

      Funny how wounds don’t hurt until you see them. True to form, the second he noticed, his foot began to throb.

      “I’m trapped.”

      “Oh, God.” Natalie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t waste time on small talk. “If I lift, can you try to wiggle out?”

      He clenched his teeth. “No way you can lift this. Even if you could, my foot’s probably broken. I couldn’t go far.”

      She shook her head. “No is not an option. I want you to try.”

      Team-leader words. He pondered this for half a second before giving her a cursory nod. “Go for it. If you can manage to lift the pillar, I can certainly manage to move.”

      Straining, she grabbed the concrete and gave it her best shot.

      Nothing. Not even a minute bit of movement.

      “Damn it all to hell.”

      Natalie continued to strain, pushing at the concrete. “Stop,” he ordered. “You need to go. Save yourself.”

      “I’m not leaving you.” Her fierceness surprised him. Where was the timid mouse he remembered?

      “You have to. If you stay, they’ll kill us both.”

      “If I go, they’ll kill you. That’s not acceptable.”

      He put all his frustration into the look he gave her. “Listen to me—”

      “No!” She threw herself against the concrete again. This time, he could swear the damn thing moved, even if only a fraction of an inch.

      “Nat—”

      “You’ve got to help me!” Eyes bright, she shoved again. Another infinitesimal movement.

      Not enough.

      “I can’t.”

      “Do you want to die for real?” She shoved her face close to his, nose to nose. “Is that it?”

      “No.” He ground out the word, surprised to realize he spoke the truth. Even the dark secret he’d been carrying since before he’d met her wasn’t enough to make him want to give up his life. Especially not since they were together again.

      “Then help me!”

      Pushing himself to a sitting position, he tried. Bracing his arms against the cement, he used every bit of his strength.

      “Bingo.”

      The gunfire came again, louder. Closer.

      “One more time,” she urged. “You can do it.”

      “Rah, rah, rah,” he muttered. Still, he was willing to try.

      One more shove did the trick. Together, both their efforts succeeded in moving the concrete off his foot.

      “Can you stand?”

      “I don’t know.”

      She held out her hand. “You have to. Come on.”

      Grimacing, he ignored her outstretched fingers and tried to get up on his own.

      Though already swollen, it seemed his foot would support him. For now.

      Standing, he tried to flash a triumphant smile but ruined the effect the moment

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