“Hello?”Jasmine lifted herself up a tiny bit and peered over again.
“Jasmine?It’s Declan McBride.”
She fell back.Fuck my life.What else can go wrong?And it had to be wrong for a man who reviled her to call.“Is Caro okay?DJ?”She didn’t have the energy to tighten her core and peer over the edge while having this conversation, whatever it was supposed to be.
She and Declan hadn’t ever gotten along.She’d made his life hell and he’d never attempted to make her think he liked her in the slightest.But all that had changed when he’d married her twin.Jasmine did her best not to antagonize him.She’d just gotten her sister back and didn’t want to put her in the position where she had to choose.
“I’m supposed to tell you not to do anything foolish.”A grunt.“Now that that’s out of the way, I heard from our mutual friend and have been updated on the situation.I’ve made some calls and there are people on the way both to your current location and to the Jankovic house for his attempt on law enforcement’s life.”
“Why are you calling me?”Leveraging up on her elbow, she peered over the edge once more, frowning as Dusan’s son strolled into view.
“Believe me, not anything I care to do but—”
She hung up on him, needing to focus on the scene before her.Her twin was fine, her nephew was fine, and honestly that’s all she cared about.
Shit.I have to get down there.The father was bad enough, but when his son, his highly unstable son, showed up, this is when things went sideways.Crouched, she skimmed the edge, searching for the fire escape.The second she fired her first shot, they would have her location and she would have to get moving.
Another peek over the side and she palmed her sidearm.She didn’t have any way of hearing the conversation happening street level, but she would have to be blind to miss the escalating anger between the parties.
A low rumble rolled from her chest as Michel backhanded Mark, rocking his head on his shoulders.The man stumbled but held himself upright once more.Lifting his chin, he spat out a response.
She knew him well.He’d made his peace with whatever was going to happen to him.And she also knew him well enough to know he would sacrifice himself for her.Settling against the corner, she set her aim.
I’ve never wished more for a sniper rifle.
Her phone buzzed against her ass cheek but she didn’t move.She wasn’t aiming at Dusan, no, her bead was on Michel.The hot-headed young upstart who thought he couldn’t do any wrong.Thought his shit didn’t stink and he could get away with anything because of who his daddy was.
The firehose.Fuck, yes!Staying low, she crouch-waddled to the thick roll of firehose.Here’s hoping you’re fucking fifty meters and not thirty-six.SIG by her knee, she unrolled the heavy hose enough to loop it around her waist and give it the best knot she could finagle.
As she unlocked the roll so it would spin unincumbered, she went back to the edge and peered over.What the fuck is he doing there?
Lance walked into view, drawing the attention of both Dusan and Michel.Robert was bleeding, looked like from his gut and head.She recognized the head injury but the gut one…that was new.
Not a shred of sympathy for him.Bastard could bleed out for all she cared.Checking her magazine, she took a deep breath and sighted again.Lance was shaking his head and gesturing at Mark.Michel puffed out his unimpressive chest and stepped in front of Lance.
She snorted a laugh as Lance barely hesitated, just threw a punch, knocking him to the ground.
Good job.
Dusan’s men drew on him when he stepped toward their boss.All she could see was a lot of gesturing and Michel struggling to get back on his feet.No one helped him and when he finally managed to accomplish that, he drew his gun and aimed it at Lance.At the last second, he adjusted slightly and shot by Lance’s head and killed Mark.
She’d retaliated before her friend’s body even hit the ground.With a yell, she fired at Michel as she leaped over the edge and began running, just like she’d learned to do years ago when she’d learned Australian abseiling during one of her many courses.Yes, she was a sitting duck but it didn’t matter.They would pay.
She’d taken out two of their men before they’d realized what she was doing.Lance dove out of the way even as he glanced up at her as he rolled.She watched him mouth her name, then she focused again on Dusan and his men.As well as Michel’s men.
Two slugs tore into her left shoulder and side and she nearly dropped her gun before she could switch to her right.
“Jasmine!”
Everything happened at once, and yet, at the same time, it was like in slow motion.
She didn’t waste time yelling back, needing Lance to realize he had to focus on keeping himself alive.Dusan’s men were doing their best to protect their boss.Lance began firing.In her periphery she noticed Robert went down but her focus was on Mark and holding onto every shred of hope in the universe that her friend was still alive.
Her body jerked as the reel lurched forward.Yeah, this may not have been the smartest idea ever.Her back pocket began buzzing once again, pushing a bit of hysterical laughter from her.
I’m running down the side of a building, praying the fire hose knotted at my waist doesn’t give out before the reel it’s attached to careens over the edge, like I have time to pause in that and the firefight to answer my phone.
Another lurch forward and she figured they were firing at the hose now, trying to get it to tear and plummet her.Two stories left.Ejecting the empty magazine, she pulled out another and slammed it home and began firing once more.
