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“Get him away from this guy. Go!” Ford barked.
All of them surrounded their jumper and shuffled him back through the restaurant. Brian saw that Dana had blocked Max Wright from coming through the door they’d used. A few more feet, and their heavy boots were making fast tracks through the kitchen. Marlow, Chef John, and several of his staff watched with fascination as Duke and his team of hunters moved in sync like one massive man.
Duke ran forward to get the transport doors open. Their time was dwindling. Quick and Ford held their jumper while Brian and Dana brought up their six. By the time security found out which way they’d gone… they’d be gone.
Brian turned and looked at Dana, then behind them.
“He went back through the lobby,” Dana answered, knowing who Brian was scoping for.
“We’re outta here! Move it,” Duke barked from the driver’s seat.
Dana ran around to their own vehicle and started it up, Brian lingered at the restaurant’s service door, ensuring no one tried to come through the same way. Ford stood at the tailgate of the transport truck with Quick, as he stooped, trying to attach the leg restraints on Clarkson. The man wasn’t being cooperative or making it easy; crying and blowing snot all over the damn place as they ignored his repeated attempts to buy them off. The hairs on Brian’s neck tingled. He swiveled his head around but saw nothing at the door they’d exited.
Brian spun in the other direction and that was when he saw the dark figure in a crumpled suit approaching determinedly around the other side. Max Wright had his own plans. He’d circled around on them and had hid in the shadows. Where Brian lived…Max was in his motherfucking house. A man couldn’t seek sanctuary there, he’d find him each time. Brian knew he was going to have to tase this guy. Then as the man’s face became illuminated by the parking lot’s light, Brian saw what he’d prayed he’d never, ever see again. Yet, there it was; coming towards him. Terrorism. A man with one mission… to kill and destroy. That look in another man’s eyes made Brian’s world tilt, and his mind tug at him, as if it wanted him to go back to that time. Brian clenched his fists and remembered his years and years of breathing and took a deep inhale.
He felt as if he was in a movie, running in slow motion. Brian watched an unstable man recognize his last chance for vengeance slipping through his fingers. Brian’s body tried to lock with fear. He saw his brother was completely defenseless… and so was Quick.
His boss was still in a crouched position and Ford was holding their jumper still. None of them watching to the fucking right! Brian saw the danger… and couldn’t call out to them. Searing dread sparked in his spine, but he stayed ramrod straight. He had to do something. Anxiety and panic gripped him in his gut.
Brian stared at the face of a man who had nothing left. Nothing to lose. Brian screamed in his head when he saw Max reach behind his back. He had to get to him, stop him, but he knew he wouldn’t have time. Not when he saw Max make the decision that it was now or never. He took off towards him anyway, his heavy boots hitting the asphalt, but no one heard him. Their jumper’s loud mouth and wild, bucking kicks as they loaded him had his team completely distracted. Brian’s mouth moved, his throat flexed, but no one looked his way. He wasn’t making any sounds. He was moving fast but it just didn’t feel fast enough. Just a few more feet and…
His legs almost buckled. Max Wright didn’t just have a measly .22, he had a damn justice bringer pointed at Clarkson. But, unless the man was a sniper, he wasn’t going to hit him. He’d hit the man standing directly behind Clarkson. Ford. Hit his only brother with a weapon that was made solely to put a man six feet under. Its .480’s devastating speed and power would blow his brother’s chest wide open. No! God, no! Brian dug in harder. Running, Brian realized he only had a couple of seconds to make something happen. Or he’d live with the consequences of what his silence caused. Brian shook his head violently. His brother was about to get shot in the back. Never once had Ford not shown up for him when he needed him… brotherhood went both ways… it was his turn to finally show up. Everything in Brian screamed, ‘do something!’ He opened his mouth again, adrenaline and terror driving him towards the enemy. He filled his belly with as much air as he could while running and pulled from a place as deep down inside himself as he could go. Pulled from a place where he felt the strongest love for his brother. Vibration rattled in Brian’s chest.
