Page 51 of Nothing to Fear

The guy ducked out of full view but raised a fist. Universal hand signal to halt. Sure enough, the hail of gunfire stopped. Debris and hot brass littered the floor. The merc peeked back around the doorframe, getting the lay of the apartment, not exposing much of his body.

Let that head slip another inch, for two seconds, and Gideon would nail him.

Come on. One inch.

Willow peered out of the adjacent room at the end of the hall. The timing. The luck. All bad. Murphy’s fucking law bad.

The merc in the next room caught a glimpse of her. Gideon squeezed off rounds. The guy ducked back into the room, taking cover.

Willow’s eyes widened, meeting his for a nanosecond before she disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door. The lock clicked into place.

Bullets popped from the hall off the kitchen, battering what was left of the sofa.

If he didn’t force the game to change, they were screwed. “Ken, on my mark.”

“I’m with you.”

Gideon rolled out from behind the sofa, his body flat and low to the ground, aimed and shot each man in the ankle. Gunfire lashed up to the ceiling as one roared in pain. The other hit the floor, and Gideon put a hot slug in his brainpan.

Ken stepped out and pulled the hammer of the shotgun, pumping four shells into the injured guy still standing. “That’s for my sister.”

“Get out of here,” Gideon said to Ken.

“Good luck, man.” Ken dashed to the master suite.

Boom! The front door blew off, ripping out the reinforced frame along with it. Steel smacked the stairs in a resounding clank and went clattering down the steps.

Smoke and dust punched into the apartment, filling Gideon’s throat with chalky residue and obstructing his vision.

Whack! Wood cracked behind him as the merc from the adjacent bedroom kicked in Willow’s door.

Gideon sprang up from the floor, sprinted through the living room to help her, and barreled into yet another merc who’d gotten in.

Grabbing the fucker’s gun arm, Gideon slammed his wrist against the doorjamb and knocked the weapon from his hand. The gun clattered to the floor out of sight. He whipped his elbow up into the merc’s jaw. The man stumbled, his head thrown back, then he drew a blade and lunged faster than expected.

A searing slash ripped across Gideon’s side.

* * *

Willow searched through the cabinet under the bathroom sink for a possible weapon. Toilet paper. Plunger. Disinfectant wipes. Plastic caddy of hair products.

What was she going to do, mousse the guy to death?

Gideon had taken both the 9mm and tactical blade from the go bag earlier, but she wasn’t comfortable using either anyway. Her weapons were computers and source code. She ripped open the backpack, pushing aside the purse that she’d stuffed inside, and rifled through the contents.

The cold stainless steel of the cigarette lighter passed through her fingers, and she clenched it in her palm. If she could find something flammable, she might stand a chance.

Her gaze flickered to the bathroom door. The lock wouldn’t hold him off for long.

Delving back in the cabinet, she scanned the contents for anything she could use. Blood pounded in her ears as she searched the tackle box. Conditioner. Hair spray.

Yes. That was flammable. Her gaze flickered back to the door. She grabbed the aerosol can and shook it.

The bedroom door smashed open as if kicked in, wood smacking against drywall. Her throat closed around a knot of panic, and she broke out in a sweat.

Footsteps pounded across the carpet.

Jumping into position by the wall, she pressed her thumb on the spark wheel of the lighter. The bathroom door handle rattled, sending her heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.