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Youwilldo this,she told herself fiercely.You’re Leilah freaking Khan.
She shook out her hands, rolled her neck, and began to rise to her feet.
“Looking for me?”
Ryan. At the sound of his voice, she froze for a fraction of a second. What was he doing?
While the three men in front of her were distracted by his sudden appearance, she stood up. She squinted into the dimly lit alleyway. He was swinging something in his hand. A rope? No, a chain.
At least it’s not a gun.
And from Marielle and Olivia’s mini-lectures on weaponry, she knew that a chain, like a knife, would make Ryan an unpredictable opponent. The men wouldn’t be able to anticipate the chain’s trajectory.
They also wouldn’t anticipate an attack from the rear flank. She sprang up, vaulted the short railing, and jumped on the man with the phone. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to his back. With her left hand, she jerked his head up and back by his short, spiky hair. She used the side of her right hand to chop at his exposed throat, aiming for his Adam’s apple.
Ryan whipped the chain at the man who’d checked the restaurant for them. He directed the whizzing length of metal at the guy’s knees.
“What the bloody hell?” The man roared, stumbling back.
Leilah’s guy clawed at her, trying to dislodge her from her perch on his back. She turned her attention away from his throat long enough to stick her fingers in his right eye. He bucked and yelled.
“Enough!” the man who was in charge boomed, raising his hands.
This is it,Leilah thought.He’s pulling a gun.
But his hands were empty. The gesture was one of appeasement, not aggression.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding,” he continued in a calm, firm voice. “Stand down,” he ordered his men.
“Stand down? We’re the ones under attack,” the restaurant guy said, clutching his leg and backing away from Ryan’s still-swinging chain.
“They’re civilians,” the leader reminded him. “And our orders were not to harm them. Remember?”
The chain’s arc slowed but didn’t stop, and Ryan narrowed his eyes. “You’re under orders not to hurt us?” He demanded.
“Indeed.”
“Tampering with the brakes so we’d crash into a steel barrier in the road, then swarming our disabled car with assault rifles is an interesting interpretation of that instruction,” Ryan spat.
The man shook his head. “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Call Jake,” Ryan said to Leilah without taking his eyes off the three men.
She slid off the guy’s back, and he backed away from her cautiously. Then she pulled out the burner phone. The moment the call connected, she began to explain the situation to Jake. As the words poured from her mouth at record speed, Ryan herded the three men against the wall.
She flipped the phone closed with a satisfying click. “They’re only about twelve minutes away. When Chelsea said they were hot on the trail, she meant it.”
“You really need to talk to Mr. Ahmadi,” the leader said in a defeated voice.
“First you’re going to talk to us,” Ryan told him.
Leilah caught Ryan’s eye and smiled. It was funny, she thought. Ryan had always given her a cerebral Clark Kent vibe. But, at this moment, he was screaming Superman. No, she corrected herself, not funny. Hot.
He gave her a steady look in return, and then, as if he’d read her mind, he winked at her.
13
Omar’sblack Suburban sped into the alley.
