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“It’s not a normal vehicle, no. It’s an Iniquus vehicle equipped for me with hand controls per the law, but that doesn’t affect the pedal control. There are a number of vehicles in the Iniquus pool that can be driven with hand controls. Our operators can get banged up on the job, and it just makes sense to have vehicles available while they recover. Or for me. Besides those controls, Iniquus does special modifications on all of its fleet, so none of the vehicles are what you might call normal.”
“Like what?” Olivia asked, curiosity painting her voice.
“Run-flat tires, for example.”
Beowolf was on his feet, a low warning rumble in his chest. Nutsbe followed his line of sight. “What have you got, buddy?”
Beowolf stomped his foot.
“I don’t see it, boy.” Nutsbe slowed his breath as he methodically scanned, and sure as shit, a flash of reflecting light winked at him.
See that once, and it locked into the brain as a death signal.
Sniper.
Nutsbe spread his arms protectively as Beowolf bit into Olivia’s sleeve, dragging her down to the ground.
Nutsbe threw himself on top of them, shielding the two with his body.
As they hit the ground, a man behind them screamed with horror-filled surprise.
Chapter Sixteen
Nutsbe
Twisting to peer over his shoulder, Nutsbe found an elderly man seated on the ground just within view. His legs stretched out in front of him. He bent, his hands gripping around his thigh. Blood gushed through his fingers.
“Stay here. Stay down,” he ordered. “Beowolf, stay!”
An arterial spurt. If Nutsbe took the time to drag the guy, he’d bleed out before they reached cover.
Nutsbe whipped his go-bag forward, yanking a tourniquet from the front pocket. Holding it between his teeth, Nutsbe rested his weight on his hip and did a side crawl that kept his head as close to the ground as possible, pulling his thighs toward his chest, then lifting and thrusting.
The man turned gray as his blood pressure dropped. Nutsbe pressed him to lie down lest he pass out, adding a concussion to the emergency. With practiced hands, Nutsbe secured the tourniquet above the wound, then tightened it hard until he could see that the blood had stopped flowing.
Looking down to tell the man they needed to move fast, Nutsbe found him out cold. It had to be from the sudden blood loss.
There was nothing that Nutsbe was willing to do about that now.
He scrambled around behind the man, assessing. Five foot ten, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds? He wasn’t small, that was for sure. Nutsbe hadn’t trained to drag this much weight and didn’t want to try it from standing when his head would present a clear target. Nutsbe decided he’d continue his side crawl, a move he had developed from the SEAL combat swimming sidestroke. He could do it with some efficiency, but would it work here?
Nutsbe caught the guy by his shirt collar and made the first pull. They gained mere inches. Putting the back of his hand under the man’s nostrils to see if he was breathing, no whisper of air tickled his skin.
Nutsbe saw three choices.
He could risk it and try CPR here.
He could keep dragging and hope for the best.
He could consider the rescue a lost cause, give up, and seek safety.
Nutsbe pressed and dragged again, getting the same limited results.
“Argh!” Olivia yelled. And Nutsbe shot a look her way. She was in a bear crawl with her ass in the air, Beowolf had his mouth around her arm, and he was dragging her toward Nutsbe.
There was a splintering crack that jerked Nutsbe’s head up. The rear window of the car beside Olivia’s shattered, and then a bullet hit the passenger’s side window where she’d been crouched.
Nutsbe’s heart gripped.
