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“Movement from behind the trees directly across from room eleven,” Gary said. “Should I call the police?”
“Yes.” Room eleven was Harper’s room. Where the disk was located. They were currently in room twelve, which was the last room in the row, partially hidden behind the staircase.
Before he could say anything more, there was a loud crack as the window of Harper’s motel room shattered. Instantly, smoke began to fill the air.
A smoke bomb designed the flush them outside and directly into the line of fire.
“Shut the connecting door!” He lifted the window enough to poke the barrel of his gun through and fired off a warning round. Harper coughed as she shut the door.
“My eyes are burning,” she whispered. “I hope the smoke doesn’t harm the baby.”
“Grab the sheets from the bed, jam them along the bottom of the door. Then come kneel behind me.” He kept his gaze focused outside. Where was Brock’s SUV? He didn’t know how far away Brock and Joe had gotten. But based on the shooter being outside, there wasn’t a second to spare.
They needed backup now!
He found himself praying the Brookland cops would show up before the shooter began peppering the hotel room windows.
Seeing movement within the trees across the parking lot, he fired off another warning round. He hoped the shooter didn’t know they had connecting rooms.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a bullet penetrated the glass above his head.
Harper cried out in fear, cowering behind him. He fired two more rounds in the direction where he’d last seen movement.
Harper began softly praying, begging God to keep her baby safe from harm. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by her fear. He’d been in worse situations than this. He only needed to hold the shooter off long enough for Brock to get there.
Piece of cake.
“Hold your fire,” Brock’s voice crackled through the radio. “I’m coming in on foot.”
“Roger, but shooter is stationed directly across from our rooms. Watch your six.”
“I see him.” He figured Brock had binoculars trained on the wooded area. He and Brock were both very familiar with the area. “I’m going to draw his fire. When I do that, I want you and Harper to get out of there.”
“No, we can’t,” Harper whispered. “He’ll see us!”
“Are you sure there’s not more than one shooter out there?” Steele asked.
“Joe is moving along the back of the motel. He hasn’t reported seeing anyone else,” Brock said. “He’ll meet you on the side closest to the staircase.”
“Okay, we’ll get ready to run.” He turned to look at Harper. “We only need to get outside and around the corner where Joe will be waiting. I’ll go first, you stay behind me.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Her red eyes were swollen, and tears streaked down her cheeks. How much was from the smoke or from their current dicey situation, he wasn’t sure.
Another bullet pierced the glass to his right.
“We can’t stay here. Just trust me, okay?” He turned to watch through the window. He couldn’t see Brock getting into position but imagined he’d station himself near the lobby.
“Now!” Brock said, and opened fire.
Steele jumped up and wrenched open the door. Despite her protests, Harper followed right behind him, clutching the back of his bullet-resistant vest. He fired toward the trees, too, then quickly shifted so that Harper could get around the corner safely. Then he quickly ducked and followed.
“This way,” Joe urged. Steele didn’t argue, following his boss’s lead as they ran along the back of the building. He didn’t see an SUV. Brock and Joe must have hidden it somewhere nearby.
The sound of gunfire didn’t let up. Steele knew Brock was doing his best to keep the shooter busy, enabling them to escape.
Then there was nothing but silence. Joe finally stopped and looked at him. “The Finnegan homestead is about ten to twelve blocks away. Take Harper there and wait for us. I’m going back to help Brock.”
He didn’t like leaving his teammates behind. But he didn’t have a choice. He watched Joe jog back the way they’d come, then forced himself to keep going.
