“Our CI is not to be harmed,” Nic reminded him.Abigail Monroe was their confidential informant inside the crew.
“Roger that,” Cam replied.“On my count...”
Cam got as far as “two” before a hail of gunfire erupted.
Everywhere.
Inside the target apartment, on the floor below, and outside the surveillance van.Shots pinged the metal grill and raced up the hood toward the windshield.
And inside Nic, fear and worry exploded—heat everywhere—before his military training kicked in and his emotions morphed into action.He was fine, he wasn’t in the desert, he’d been trained in urban combat, and fuck it, he needed to protect his position.Once that was done, he’d help Cam whether the bullheaded ASAC wanted him to or not.
“Go, go, go!”Cam shouted, dispensing with quiet.
In Nic’s ear, heavy boots pounded up metal stairs, doors slammed open, and gunfire continued to pop, shattering what sounded like wood and glass.Nic’s balance wavered, whether from the strangled shouts in his ear, a similar clenching of his chest, or the sway of the van under assault, he couldn’t say.
Lauren’s shout of “Command under fire!”snapped him out of it.
And back to the on-monitor view from Cam’s helmet cam, which abruptly wobbled, the agent’s step faltering.
“Boston, go!”Nic yelled.“I got this.”
“Beta, secure Command.Charlie, intercept third party, back up Alpha.Go!”Cam said, before charging out of the stairwell with his team.
Nic tore his gaze from Cam’s feed and focused on the others, searching for the shooter who had paused firing on the van.“Sweep the area,” he told Lauren as he mentally rewound and counted the previous shots.He needed to know how long the next barrage would go on before he could make a move.
Her glittery nails flew across the keyboard, new angles and views of the surrounding Financial District blocks appearing on the monitors.
A bright glare on one screen nearly blinded him.“Stop there!”
Early morning sunlight bounced off glass—a sniper’s scope—on the second story of the under-construction building across the street.
Nic reached for his sidearm, then, thinking better of it, grabbed a rifle and scope out of the van’s cage.Darting to the front, he crouched between the seats, behind the dash, as bullets slammed again into the windshield.Cracks snaked across the outside but the reinforced glass continued to hold.Assured of its strength, Nic lifted his head and peered through the scope, spying the shooter’s nest.“Hall!”he shouted back into the van as he attached the scope to the rifle.“Tell Beta team to lay down cover.”
Lauren relayed the order, and suppressive fire sprayed from the roof of the apartment building.Nic shoved open the driver-side door and rolled out of the van, using the door as a shield.Shots pinged the outside while Beta team’s answering fire whizzed overhead.He counted the sniper’s shots as he lowered the window.
Reload in three, two, one...Another break in the fire.
Fist raised, he signaled Beta team to hold and rose, bracing his rifle on the window ledge and lining up his shot.At the first glimmer of sunlight on the shooter’s scope, Nic fired, unleashing a full mag into the nest.
Weapon emptied, he crouched behind the door and waited.No return fire came.
“You’re clear,” Lauren confirmed after several seconds.“No sign of movement.”
Standing, Nic tossed the rifle on the driver’s seat and drew his pistol.“I’m going after the shooter.”
He was halfway across the street when “Alpha team.Agent down!Civilian down!”echoed through the van’s open window.“Radio for EMS!”
Cam.
Nic’s already racing heart sped with another burst of fear-soaked adrenaline.He hung a U-turn and sprinted for the apartment building.
“Get someone in that other building,” he shouted to Lauren as he passed the van.Inside the building, he yanked open the stairwell door and took the steps three at a time, racing toward Cam and the scene.Weapon at the ready, he exited onto the penthouse hallway.
And into eerie quiet.No gunfire.No shouts.Until an anguished cry broke the silence.
Nic ran the last few feet to the target apartment, heart in his bone-dry throat, and skidded inside across the slick marble foyer.The place looked like a disaster area.Sunlight reflected off broken glass, splintered furniture littered the space, and blood stained the walls and floor.
Nic half scrambled, half tiptoed around the cavernous apartment, seeking the source of the blood while trying not to destroy evidence, heart climbing his throat with each step.Past the foyer, he saw the crew’s ringleader handcuffed to the dining bar’s footrest, and next to him, similarly restrained, their breaking and entering specialist.The former’s right arm was covered in blood, but the graze on his outer shoulder didn’t look life-threatening.
