Page 4 of Declan

“Tone down the attitude.” Declan’s reddish-brown eyes narrowed on me and I fought not to shrink back. He was scary as hell when he was pissed. “And while you’re at it, remember who the fuck you’re talking to. I know you can handle yourself. I have a file three inches thick that proves you’re resourceful. But what you aren’t is smart. You’re stubborn as fuck.”

“Screw off.”

Before I could step away, Declan had me pinned to the wall, his big, bulky frame a wall of muscle that I had no chance of getting around.

“Stubborn and stupid. You know better. If you wanna take down the rest of Omni, you better start playing it smart. This isn’t a one-woman show anymore. You have firepower at your back, use it. Madeleine Strotherby’s not stupid, Autumn, she’s built an army. She will not blink to protect her empire.”

“You don’t think I know that. She’s here, in the area.”

“And she’ll have protection. What’d you think, you were gonna walk right up to her and—” Declan abruptly stopped and touched his wrist. “Copy that. We’re on the move.” Then back to me. “We have company.”

Thank God. I’d take a battalion of insurgents over arguing with Declan.

Chapter 2

Autumn didn’t bat a single pretty eyelash, not even a crease of worry marred her face. Nothing changed when I told her we had company. The woman was both crazy and brave as fuck.

Insanely brave—the four-inch scar across my throat a reminder she’d also saved my life.

My time in the Marines taught me the value of teamwork. In contrast, the years I’d worked with the CIA taught me to be a loner. Zane Lewis had expended a fair amount of effort reminding me teamwork trumps solitude. Something that Autumn needed to learn. But arguing in an alley with the enemy closing in wasn’t the time or the place.

“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and started to move back to the street.

“This way.” Autumn gestured farther down the alley.

“Dead end.”

“There’s a clinic across the street with over a dozen pregnant women. We can’t go that way. The back door to the market is at the end.”

Without waiting, Autumn took off, no discussion, no plan—yeah, she needed a lesson on teamwork.

“You got three unfriendlies at the mouth of the alley. Move.” Brooks came over my earpiece.

“Double-time it,” I told Autumn.

She released my hand and sprinted the last hundred yards, reaching the door before I did. She slowly opened it and ducked in, holding it open for me. Autumn had her hand on her holster but hadn’t drawn. Not feeling as diplomatic, I pulled my Sig and followed her through the empty back room.

“Ready?” she whispered.

I nodded and she pushed open the curtain. We were met by the shop owner who immediately started shouting in Pashto, garnering too much attention. The market wasn’t wall-to-wall people but there were enough that we were outnumbered, by a lot.

Autumn didn’t need to be told to move. She took off like a shot, weaving through the patrons who weren’t already scrambling to get away from the two Americans running at them. The locals understood what that meant and clamored to safety.

“My hotel or you got someplace closer?” she asked once we exited the front door.

“Hotel.”

Autumn didn’t bother with the busy sidewalk. No, the crazy woman ran straight into traffic. The congestion did nothing to slow her down. She dodged between cars, narrowly missing getting hit by a motorcyclist. It wasn’t until she rounded the corner and we hit an outdoor bazaar that she finally fucking slowed. Immediately we were swallowed by the crowd milling about the stalls and carts.

Fortunately, she’d defied death and hadn’t been run over, but now she was gaining attention.

“Here.” I unwound my keffiyeh from around my neck and handed it to her. “At least cover your hair.”

Christ, she was certifiably insane. A blonde woman walking around alone in Afghanistan was enough to get her killed.

We’d be talking about that, too, when we made our way to her hotel.

Was she trying to get killed, or just draw unneeded attention to herself? Neither answer boded well.