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He glanced over his shoulder. Dorian sped up and reached for the blonde woman’s shoulder. She spun around and gasped. Thin lips pursed in a snarl as she proceeded to yell at him.
Not Tempest.
He started running toward the other building and tapped his comm. “This is Hunter One. Wrong call on the blonde at ground level. Shooter on the—”
Weapon fire sounded. Screams broke out.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” Hahn shouted.
“Where?! Give me a position,” Dorian snapped.
“We have multiple shooters,” Kjar snarled, “Niehl’s down. I report Niehl’s down.”
A secondary shooter? Had Tempest recruited outside help? It didn’t match her previous m.o.
“Is he dead?” Rook asked as he kicked in the door of the building where he’d seen the glint and charged up the stairs.
“He’s definitely dead. Bastard’s missing half his face.”
Damn you, Tempest. Rook hit the next steps, his boots thudding up the metal stairs.
“Hunter Three has eyes on target fleeing on foot.” Hahn was out of breath as he informed them.
“Hunter Four moving in to assist,” came Dorian’s clipped response.
“Medics on scene. Hunter Two moving out. Where are you, Hunter One?” Kjar asked.
Every beat of his heart pounded in Rook’s ears. Doing something he’d never done before, he raised his hand and muted his comm on his end as he rounded the bend to the next level of stairs and failed to respond.
His boots thudded up one flight of stairs after another. Adrenaline flooded his veins and he ran faster, praying he’d been mistaken but knowing he wasn’t.
There were two shooters. One on the roof, the other in the crowd. Which one had killed Niehl?
Two more floors until he reached the door for the rooftop room. Above him, a door opened and slammed closed. The rattle of metal sounded. Rook slowed down and withdrew his weapon to hold double fisted as he put his back to the wall of the stairwell and eased around the landing to the next flight. He reached the top on quiet steps and paused at the last closed door.
Hand extended, he carefully turned the latch and threw it open. Rook crouched and peered around the corner inside. An empty room with a metal ladder running from an opening in the ceiling. The hatch to the roof.
His gaze took in the rest of the dimly lit space. Dust on the flooring, stale air and a few bugs fluttered about. He entered slowly, his laser held up and made his way to the ladder. One handed he climbed steadily.
On the rooftop, he walked to the edge and gazed down at the crowd surging and scrambling in a panic. The shouts from below were muted but he could imagine the chaos.
“Hunter One, report,”Kjar barked in his ear.
Ignoring his teammate, he eyed his surroundings and found what he was looking for. Dropping to one knee, he fingered the scuff marks. Three short streaks of black. Boots or the scrape from legs on a bracer used to prop a sniper laser.
Weapon at the ready, he stood and gazed into the distance. Perfect view to the balcony of the Assembly Hall.
With one final look around, Rook cursed. No one was here but they had been.
Clang!
He spun around at the sound from below. Fuck! Realization struck and Rook ran back to the ladder.
