Collateral Damage

Honor didn’t have a clear view from her position in her CO’s office. She caught only a glimpse of Andrews as he stormed in, his gaze cutting back and forth as he visually swept the room, holding what appeared to be a rifle in his hands. Ipman shut the door and stepped in front of him, cutting off her line of sight.

“Could’ve used that about ten minutes ago,” Ipman said to him, gesturing to the weapon. He turned and headed back toward the office they were in. Andrews’s face appeared over his shoulder and in that heartbeat his gaze co

A frisson of alarm streaked through Honor at the odd, fixed way he stared at her. Ipman turned and froze, his half-smile faltering as he watched Andrews uncertainly. “What are you…” He trailed off, his expression transforming into horror as Andrews raised the rifle and turned it on him.

Honor drew breath to scream a warning but it was too late. Andrews pulled the trigger, sending a burst of fire into Ipman’s chest. The bullets went through him and buried themselves in the wall at his back. The specialist fell against the wall, blood pouring from the lethal wounds in his chest, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

No! The scream locked in Honor’s throat and she recoiled, instinctively moving away as her brain struggled to process what she’d just seen.

“The fuck are you doing, man?” Smithers shouted, shoving Honor backward behind him and reaching out one leg to kick the interior door shut with his boot. Honor scrambled to her elbows as Andrews swung the weapon toward them. Smithers dove forward to twist the lock then threw himself backward as Andrews’s chilling voice rang out.

“Girard, I’m coming for you, bitch!”

What? He was after her?

With terrible clarity, she realized he had to be the insider officials had been worried about.

Honor lunged for her sergeant, intent on pulling him behind cover. Her fingers closed around the shoulder of his T-shirt. She hauled him backward, behind the steel desk set in the center of the room. “Smithy—” Her words cut off when Andrews opened fire on the door. Rounds punched through the heavy metal, pinging off the walls and the desk that now served as their only cover.

Honor gasped and hit the ground, flipping to her belly to avoid the deadly hail of bullets. “The back! Get out the back!” she ordered Smithers and the civilian.

Wide-eyed, face pale, the man turned and crawled as fast as he could for the door on the opposite side of the office. It was the only way out and they had to get through it before Andrews got in here or ran around the outside and beat them to the exit on the far end of the building.

As she crawled after the civilian Honor’s gaze locked on the cabinet holding the gun safe. There was no way they’d all be able to get out before Andrews blew through that door. She had to get a weapon and take him out, or at least hold him off until the others could escape. Maybe she’d get lucky and get off a shot quick enough to incapacitate him. She’d have only milliseconds to take him down. Time for only one shot if she was fast.

She could not miss.

More rounds punched through the door, spraying bits of metal and glass everywhere. Her hand gripped the cabinet handle. She yanked it open, frantically turned the dial and prayed she remembered the combination. Her heart was in her throat as she opened it.

Empty.

She had only a split second to absorb it, for her stomach to plummet toward her feet, when Andrews kicked through the ruined lock. The door flew open.

Her world went into slow motion.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Andrews standing there. He paused a moment, locked on her and began to raise his weapon. Honor drew on all the strength in her body and dove for the far doorway.

A burst of gunfire filled the room. Bullets slammed into the wall above her, their heat searing her right arm a moment before she landed in the hallway on her belly and rolled out of the line of fire.

She scrambled to her knees, then her feet, her heart about to burst from raw terror. She could hear Andrews yelling at her, heavy male footsteps coming at a dead run behind her. Chasing her.

Andrews was hunting her. Wanted her dead.

Honor kept her gaze pi

Her boots pounded on the linoleum, her feet racing along with her heartbeat. Too slow. She was too fucking slow.

More shouts behind her. Another burst of rounds exploded into the hall. Smithers grunted behind her. He’d been hit.

Honor automatically stopped, the need to help ingrained deep within her. She wouldn’t leave him. Took a lunging step toward him.

Smithers was lying on his side, struggling to drag himself into the hallway. She could hear Andrews crashing through the office behind him. Coming closer.

In that moment Smithers turned his head toward her, the faint light from down the hallway illuminating his pained grimace. “No,” he yelled, face rigid. “Run!”

She ignored him, already halfway to him. She had to grab him, drag him to safety and—

“Dammit, run!” he snarled, one hand clutching his belly just as Andrews burst into the hallway. Honor skidded to a halt and ducked, choking on the fear. The barrel of his weapon swung toward her.

Staying to help Smithers now was a death sentence for both of them. She whirled and tore back the way she’d come, leading Andrews away from Smithers. If she escaped she could send help. It was the only way either of them would survive.

As she veered left, a short volley of shots blasted into the hallway, peppering the floor and wall mere feet behind her.

Andrews cursed and she realized he was out of ammo.

The doorway stood open before her like a gateway to safety. Twenty feet away.

She had to get through it before he reloaded.

Behind her she could hear Andrews loading a fresh magazine.

Her thighs burned. Her lungs labored. A crawling sensation tingled up her spine as terror forked through her. Andrews would kill her with his next sweep.

Her boots flew over the linoleum.

Ten feet.

Five.

The ominous sounds of Andrews reloading stopped. Her time was up.

Putting on a last burst of speed she kicked off hard with both feet, launching herself into the air in a desperate long jump, intent on getting through that door. She cleared the doorway, sailed outside into the cool night air.

The toe of her boot snagged on the edge of a stair.

A barrage of shots rang out. A searing pain cut across her left upper arm as she pitched forward and plunged headlong toward the ground.

Chapter Twenty-One

Liam’s boots pounded on the asphalt as he raced for the building where Honor was trapped, just thirty yards ahead. Up ahead in the distance he heard a burst of automatic fire and his gut dropped.

Hang on, baby, just hang on for me. I’m coming. Another minute was all he needed to catch up and end this. Please, baby…

“I got your six,” the MP yelled at him, several paces behind.

Liam didn’t respond. His body flooded with adrenaline, he leaped up the five concrete steps with a single stride and smashed his boot into the door lock with all his might. The metal snapped, gave. One more solid kick, and the door swung open. Weapon up and trained into the darkness beyond, Liam sca