Page 23 of Silent Target

Good.

I’m not.

My left shoulder burns where a piece of brick struck it, but the joint still moves. Nothing feels broken.

That’s all I need.

Another burst of rifle fire rips through the smoke.

The kitchen cabinets explode behind us.

“They’re walking their fire,” I say.

“They’re doing what?”

“Pushing us toward the back door.”

Understanding flashes across her face. “Where another team is waiting.”

I nod.

“They want us alive.”

“How do you know?”

“If they wanted us dead…”

A bullet punches through the wall six inches above my head.

“…they wouldn’t be missing.”

Her eyes widen. “You say the most comforting things.”

Despite the pain in my shoulder, I almost smile.

Almost.

I crawl toward the broken kitchen window.

Only far enough to see.

Never far enough to be seen.

One glance.

That’s all I need.

Three black SUVs.

Nine men.

Suppressors.

Night optics.

Military spacing.

One man stands behind the engine block of the lead vehicle, giving silent hand signals.