Page 2 of Long Past Deadly

“Yes. I didn’t see the weapon, but definitely a rifle.”

“Doesn’t sound like a standard issue. Sounds more like a Barrett MRAD. Will he follow, Doctor?” Who would know better than a profiler.

Alanna tipped her head, her cheeks flushed – whether pissed at him or the situation, it didn’t really matter. “Most likely. He’s invested now.”

More shots had them ducking.

He patted his pockets again. His fob. Car was four spots away. Glock in the glovebox.

“Move.” He grabbed her elbow and kept them below the shrub lines. Any half-trained moron could follow their route, but it was the only play.

“Where are we going? There’s no exit here.” Though she argued, she followed.

“My car. Three more spaces. Weapon, vehicle. Exit.”

“Why? Help is right there?” She pointed toward the front of the building.

Grinding his teeth, he struggled for a neutral tone and failed. “And how many civilians are in the building doing wedding cleanup, Williams? Do we want them in our crossfire?”

“No.” Her eyes were murderous, but, miraculously, she moved with him.

“Run,” he whispered harshly.

They sprinted for the vehicle. He hit the fob. Beep-beep.

Gunfire followed, hitting his car. Fuck. His red Alfa Romeo 4C was just out of the shop this morning.

Alanna returned fire. Quaid dove in. “Get in! Get in!”

He squeezed into the driver’s seat and swore. He needed his SUV.

She fired again – rapid rounds and loud, then she was inside and slamming the door.

He stomped on the gas, steered to the gate, and accelerated. A dark-suited man appeared, firing a Glock 19 this time. Even in the dark, Quaid would know that handgun anywhere. The man’s sniper rifle – the Barrett – hung from a strap on his back. He’d been prepared.

“He transitioned,” Alanna muttered.

“Switched when he lost the shot.” Quaid made a sharp turn and careened past him and into the street.

Alanna checked her weapon. “Four rounds left.” She twisted in her seat to search for the man. “He’s getting into a black sedan. We have to tell Mackey!”

“Agreed.” He skirted around other cars, speeding and watching the rearview. “Sorry. Something caught up with me.”

“Something caught up with you?” Alanna shifted in the seat to check the side mirror. “Let me out. I can make my way back.”

“No, he saw you, too. These guys don’t leave witnesses.”

“Weapon?”

“Glovebox.”

She pulled on the latch and the door popped open. “Ammunition?”

“Only what’s in the gun. I wasn’t planning on getting shot today.”

She kept her mouth shut and checked behind them again. “I wasn’t planning on an assassination either.” She slapped the dashboard. “This car might as well have a neon flashing light on it – bright, beautiful, and banged up. Where are we going?”

Quaid refused to look at her. What came next was non-negotiable. “Safe Harbor.”