Then he heard a high-pitched cry of pain and Sam forgot every ounce of training, every second of experience he’d had as a soldier. It had been drilled into his hard head by men with equally hard heads, over and over again, that you do not go blind into a battle situation. Ever. Any instructor would have had his ass if he’d done in training what he now did.
If he’d been able to use his brain to think instead of being instantly filled with terror at the nightmarish image of Nicole being hurt, he’d have gone back into his office, where he had a shitload of weapons in his gun locker, picked up his Glock 19, checked to see the load, get a pair of restraints in case he didn’t kill the fucker, used his thermal imager so he’d know where Nicole was, and make a dynamic entry.
He’d have taken a few seconds to run through the scenario in his mind and it would have gone smooth as shit through a goose, something he’d done a thousand times before, though never on his own, without a team by his side.
There’d been only one male voice, and Sam would pit himself against any man alive in combat.
Training said to wait and to go in prepared and with the right gear.
But the hell with training. No one knew better than Sam how much damage an angry man could do to a woman in just a minute. Broken arms, broken jaws, a punch so hard it reduced the liver to pulp…he’d seen it all in his childhood.
He’d touched every inch of Nicole last night and though she was toned and sleek, she didn’t have the muscles of someone who knew self-defense. She was helpless.
Nicole cried out in pain again and Sam operated out of pure, wrenching terror, picking the lock in a second and launching himself into the room and, oh Christ, it was his worst nightmare.
A man in tactical gear, holding a gun against Nicole’s head, one arm around her throat. They both turned, and Sam would never, ever forget the look on Nicole’s face. She’d been struggling in despair and when she saw him her face simply lit up, with joy and hope. Blood dripped from where the muzzle broke the skin of her temple.
“Sam!” she choked and moved instinctively toward him, only to be caught up short by the man holding her.
“Oh no, you don’t,” the man growled, tightening his arm. “Stop right there,” he said to Sam and Sam stopped. Fuck fuckfuck! They were against the wall, with Nicole’s desk between them. There was no way Sam could rush him. The man was holding a Kimber 1911, safety off, finger in the trigger guard. He looked like he knew how to use the gun. And he looked like he would use it in a heartbeat.
“Who the fuck are you?” The man tightened his left arm even more around Nicole’s throat, caught inside his elbow. Sam could hear her struggling for breath. It was a hold he knew and he tried not to let panic overwhelm him because it was a hold a trained man could use to snap her neck in a second. A lift of the forearm, a push to the left from the gun hand and the delicate bones in the neck would snap. It was a hold Sam had used. On men who dropped lifelessly to the ground.
Terror iced his veins. This was no casual thief he could maybe trick. This was an operator. Sam circled to the left, but the man kept something between them—the desk, a client chair.
The man shook Nicole. “I said, who are you? Tell me or her brain will be decorating this pretty desk.”
Jesus. Sam knew exactly what a bullet through the head looked like. He had to exercise all his self-control not to visualize Nicole, red mist where her head used to be, collapsing to the floor.
Time. She needed time. He held his hands up.Look, no weapons. Christ, it was true. Not even a fucking knife. “Sam Reston,” he said.
“Reston, huh.” He shook Nicole a little. “Stay still, bitch.” The man’s dark gaze sharpened. “The guy with the office across the way?”
Sam nodded, eyes never leaving his. Nicole was fixed on him, eyes pleading, but Sam didn’t dare even look at her. Every cell in his body was focused on the man, watching his every movement. All Sam needed was the barest chance, even a second’s drop in attention.
But this guy was good. He moved carefully, completely unmindful of the fact that he held a desperately wriggling woman in his arms. He was circling toward the door, dragging Nicole.
Her chest was bellowing in a useless attempt to pull in air. Her lips were turning blue.
“You’re choking her.” Sam kept his voice low and even, watching the man’s eyes. “Ease up a little.”
The man didn’t even answer. He jerked his head toward the back wall. “Get over there behind the desk. Sit down and put your hands on the desk.”
Sam hesitated. Nicole’s eyes were starting to roll up in her head. Maybe he should just launch himself at the fucker, see what happened. Nicole was going to be dead in a few minutes, anyway, if he continued choking her. Maybe the fuckhead would switch the gun to the big guy rushing him and away from the woman. If he didn’t get off a head shot, maybe Sam could take the bullet and live long enough to snap the fucker’s neck…
“Now!”
Except maybe the intruder would go for a head shot. The guy could drop him in a second and then Nicole would be at his mercy. As long as Sam was alive, she had a chance. He moved to the chair and sat.
“Hands on the desk. Palms down, fingers spread.”
Jesus. Sam didn’t even have a knife. He was good with a knife, almost better than with a gun. He could have his K-bar through this guy’s eye and into his cortex in a half second, dropping him dead so fast that the instruction to his trigger finger to fire a bullet into Nicole’s head would never make it past the first synapse.
But he was weaponless. His hands and feet were weapons but he had to get to the man first and right now, that was impossible.
The intruder was moving toward the door, dragging Nicole with him. Her wheezes sounded painfully loud in the silence of the room. Her feet scrabbled for purchase, heels drumming against the guy’s ankles. He didn’t even flinch. Sam dropped his eyes to the man’s feet. He was wearing combat boots. Nicole was trying to kick him, hurt him, and he wasn’t even feeling it.
Nice try, honey. She was nearly passed out from lack of oxygen and she was still fighting.
