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“No!” Jessica screamed right before the gun went off.
Friday. Meeting Site, New York City, NY.
Daar dashed out into the alley following the sounds of a fight.
Yes, Robin had betrayed him but she was family. When it really mattered, they stuck together. He would make her see. Together they could build something great.
Movement to his right caught his attention, and he turned toward Peter as he fired at Robin and her friend. Peter bellowed something and fired again. Directly at Robin.
Everything Daar had built, his entire reason for going to such great lengths—gone.
She’d been his last hope, the person he could see carrying on the family legacy in some capacity. And now she was gone.
Rage boiled over in Daar. He lifted his gun and fired, screaming as he did so.
The first shot winged Peter, and he staggered to the side. He turned his head, staring at Daar with wide eyes.
The second shot hit Peter in the ribs. He lurched sideways and went to a knee.
Daar closed the distance and planted his foot against Peter’s face, kicking him.
“May God take your soul,” Daar snarled and emptied the rest of his bullets as he stared down at the man who’d been his right hand for fifteen years.
Friday. Office Building, New York City, NY.
A woman’s scream beckoned Harper forward. His feet skidded over gravel as he burst out of the office building into the alley behind.
Daar stood over two women and a man, his weapon clicking.
No more bullets.
Harper’s stomach clenched as he took in the blood and bodies.
Of course, that bastard had killed his family. Harper was too fucking late. This time the risk was too great.
He sprinted forward. “Daar, you monster!”
Daar whirled, tripping over the body of the other man, and went to his knees. Harper was almost on him when Daar jerked up a second weapon.
The dead man’s gun.
“Harper!” Robin cried out, her voice shrill and full of fear.
His heart beat against his ribs. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see what he couldn’t before. Robin sat with Jessica half on her lap. Robin’s hands were pressed to wounds. Blood stained their clothes and pooled on the ground.
“You’re a fucking fed?” Daar snarled. He spat curses in Arabic. “You son of a dog. You shoe licker. Eat shit.”
Jessica needed help. Now. Not in a few minutes. At least one of Jessica’s wounds was a central mass shot judging from where Robin’s hands were. A person could die in seconds if a bullet clipped an artery or the heart, not to mention the lungs and other vital organs.
Tucker’s voice echoed off the brick. “Wright? What the…”
Harper ignored Tucker and spoke to Daar, using his native language. “It’s over, Daar. Put the gun down. It’s time to stop.”
Daar’s face darkened. “You’ve been playing us the whole time?”
“What’s he saying?” Tucker asked in a low voice Harper mostly heard through the headset.
It was a monumental effort, but Harper spoke the words as calmly as if they were sitting down to dinner. “Put the gun down and we can talk.”
