Page 115 of Long Past Deadly

Fortunately, Mac agreed. Whit’s voice cut off.

“He has him,” Harrison confirmed.

Alanna’s heart seized and she couldn’t speak.

You decide if you’re steady enough to do it. You.

Mac’s words resonated.

She moved like she was the breacher, yet going straight to where Mercer couldn’t miss her. Quaid and Mackey stayed with her every step of the way.

The objectives formed a list in her head, solution simple. Make the man talk. Get Whit free. Kill Mercer.

She took Ryker’s opinion on Mercer’s motives to heart. When the two were in sight, struggling for footing with each other and knives drawn, she shouted. “You want to keep playing with him or have what you came for?”

“No, girl,” Whit yelled. But she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a professional, the hunter, the one who solved these things.

Quaid hissed, but stayed solid behind her and went silent.

Mercer trapped Whit in a chokehold with the knife at his throat. “Well, well. There she is. Finally. Why don’t you ditch your friends, and we’ll play?”

“FBI, pal. I don’t play, but I will admit you have me confused.”

He snorted out a laugh and twisted Whit’s neck until he groaned. “You know how I found out you were a cop studying the likes of me?”

She moved forward, gun pointed, with a head shot sighted.

“You tracked me.”

“Used this fool to do it.”

She took her eyes off Mercer for a split second and checked Whit. Angry frustration was in the set of his mouth. He didn’t care if Mercer killed him, and that was something she was going to take up with the old man later.

“I would have thought you had better things to obsess about.”

“Obsession? No, darling. It’s a calling. I’ve made some mistakes, I admit. Poor little thing, your friend. I should never have chosen her. You. You were the pinnacle.”

Her stomach rolled. “Why?”

“You fought back.” The knife pricked Whit’s throat and he hissed.

“What happened to my friend?”

Mercer sighed, an almost sexual completion in the tone. “Oh, she’s gone to the angels. It was marvelous.”

He couldn’t shake her with the confession. Deep in her heart she’d known.

“Send these people away. Let’s finish this, sweet honey.”

Hunt’s had shifted right in her peripheral vision and a shot rang out.

Whit sagged. His leg collapsed. The weight shift forced Mercer to let go. Whit hit the ground and rolled out of her shot.

Sound painfully echoed in her ear, but she didn’t flinch.

Time slowed, rolling like sluggish heatwaves coming off hot pavement.

Her target clear, she knew where the round would land. She pulled the trigger.