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James froze, looking to the level below. The walkway was constructed of glass cinder blocks which obscured how well he could see through to the lower level but he could make out a shadow, and he knew in his gut that bullet had been aimed at him. She wouldn’t be able to shoot through the blocks, but she’d tried nonetheless.
Lisa wasn’t going to play nice.
She might think he’d been feeding her lies, or she might believe it but still want him dead—she had been hunting him long before Fred’s death.
James sprinted to the other end, noting the shadow below, keeping pace directly beneath him.
He ran past the arched windows, past the elevator, and to the stairs. He raised his weapon, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted her alive, but it if came down to survival, he’d ensure his own before hers.
A bullet hit the wall behind his head.
“Lisa, don’t do this! I’m not your enemy!” James called out as he pressed his back against the wall, stepping down the stairs quickly but carefully.
“I don’t believe you!” she called out.
It was the first time he’d heard her voice and his breath caught in his throat. For so many years he’d felt like he was hunting a ghost—one that continued to escape him. But Lisa was real and she was dangerously close. He would not be her next victim—he had a wife and a daughter to go home to.
“I know, and I don’t blame you for that! But your brother trusted me, he brought me in to the CIA and enlisted me as his successor. Why would he do that if he didn’t trust me? He’d worked so hard to clean out the corruption.” James continued talking as he inched toward the railing.
“You played him. You’re the best at what you do,” she said but James didn’t think it was a compliment.
“No, she’s been the one playing you. Playing us all,” James said.
“No,” Black Widow responded, resolute.
James peered over the edge, pulling back quickly when he saw her pistol. She fired two shots, one of the bullets so close he swore he heard it pass his ear.
But he didn’t return fire. If he did that, he’d prove her right.
He knew what he needed to do, but that involved getting close to Black Widow.
“James, we’ve been kicked out of the system. I’m working on a fix, but if I can’t get back in, I figure you’ve got ten minutes at most before the trains start again,”Samuel said quickly.
Lachlan was still on the track and if he had to move Jenna, anything could go wrong.
James needed to finish this.
He inched back toward the staircase, pulling a grenade from his pocket. It was a dummy grenade and couldn’t be activated, but it would serve its purpose.
He lobbed it over the staircase, waited for the echo as it hit the ground, then he launched over the staircase praying Lisa had been stunned he’d thrown a grenade—stunned enough to buy him a few seconds.
He landed on the steps next to her but she recovered fast.
She slashed a knife at his face, narrowly missing his cheek.
“Don’t do this,” he said through gritted teeth as he brought this hand up, blocking another blow.
He struck his leg out, aiming for her shin.
She blocked him. She raised her arm and he wasn’t quick enough to block her return. Her knife slashed his forearm and he grunted, jerking it back.
“Don’t do this!” James repeated, every passing minute like a ticking bomb in his mind. “I’m not your enemy,” he repeated as she escaped his grasp, backing up against the wall. She was cornered, but she wasn’t giving up. He saw it in her darting eyes as she searched for an escape.
But James saw the moment she decided on her next move, and he wasn’t prepared for it.
She reached around her back and then flung her arms forward. James felt like he was stung by a thousand bees. It was enough to steal the air from his lungs and the moment it took him to get his breath back was the only moment she needed.
She lunged for him, knocking him off balance. He tripped on his feet, his vision beginning to blur as he fell backward down the stairs, still struggling to comprehend what was happening.
