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“No time to argue,” she remained bent over.
Ahmadi stepped into her hands.
Kyla straightened.
Ahmadi pulled himself up to the top of the wall and reached down to give her a hand up.
She shook her head. “Go!”
He slipped over the wall and dropped to the ground on the other side.
Doors slammed open inside the house as the man in the black ski mask worked his way through the rooms. It wouldn’t take him long. The house wasn’t that big.
Kyla got a short, running start, scaled the wall and slung her leg over.
As she slipped over the top, she glanced back. The man in the black ski mask had just reached the back door and flung it open. Before he could see her, she dropped to the other side.
Her turban caught on a crack in the wall. Unable to stop and free it, she let it go, the ponytail she’d wound around her head shaking loose. She didn’t have time to retrieve her thobe. It didn’t matter. Without the turban, the disguise was useless. All she could do was run. She raced after Ahmadi and his wife.
They ran for several city blocks. The couple wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace for long.
Kyla glanced over her shoulder. The man in black rounded a corner and sprinted toward them.
“Turn left,” Kyla yelled to the couple. They did, and Kyla followed. “Keep going and find a safe place to hide. I’ll take care of him.” She stopped running and waited for the assassin to catch up.
Ahmadi and his wife turned another corner, zigzagging through the streets.
Kyla waited, her gun poised and ready. When the man didn’t burst around the corner as she expected, she eased her head around.
Several yards away, the man was climbing into the van’s passenger side. Once he was in, the van leaped forward, headed for her corner.
Kyla aimed at the driver’s windshield and fired.
Her bullet pierced the window.
The van swerved and then straightened, coming straight for her position on the corner.
She fired again.
This time the van swerved and slid sideways into a building.
The man in the ski mask jumped out of the passenger side and, using the door for cover, aimed his rifle at Kyla.
Knowing her pistol didn’t have the range or accuracy of the shooter’s rifle, she backed away from the corner and ran. She had to get to a better position to defend herself or get the hell away.
She was halfway to the next corner when tires squealed behind her.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed…the van was back in action and barreling toward her.
In front of her, headlights flashed as a small sedan turned onto the street. A man leaned out of the passenger window with a rifle and fired at her.
Fuck.
The bullets hit the pavement beside her. Kyla turned right onto the street nearest her and ducked behind the first home she came to. She circled the house, leaping over piles of stones and brick, and hid in the shadows near the rear of the home as the sedan turned onto the street. The van was slowing as it approached the corner.
As the van turned, Kyla aimed at the front tire of the van and popped off a round. The tire blew and sent the van veering toward the front of the house behind which she hid and crashed into the front entrance.
Kyla didn’t wait for the driver to recover. She backtracked and ran back in the direction from which she’d come, zigzagging between houses, hugging the shadows as she went. Several times, she was certain she glimpsed the sedan.
