I scan the room, pen poised over the ballot.
“Sergio is directly on your six now,” Zephyr says.
“Jimmy? Tell me you’re in position.” I can’t make a move until I know there’s at least a chance Domina will live through this.
“Waiting for your signal,” Austin says. “Superman?”
“Third man in the room is an idiot. He’s begging for two between the eyes.”
This is it. In under three minutes, I’ll know if Dax is as good as Trevor claims he is. And whether I have a future with the woman I love.
The lights in the building flicker—Zephyr’s doing—but no one seems to notice. Except for the suited IPS agent next to Cortez’s booth. His gaze swings from one end of the room to the other until it lands on me.
My watch counts down, and when it hits sixty seconds, I flick the switch on the timer, then reach into my jacket pocket for the small flash-bang grenade.
Shuffling slowly from the booth, I wait until my watch starts buzzing for the last ten seconds of the countdown before I pick up the pace.
Shit. An older woman halfway across the room makes a beeline for the vacant space. Now or never.
The flash-bang sails all the way to the back wall. My lenses turn opaque, and I jam my palms over my ears. The percussive blast disorients me for a split second, but I whip off the glasses, then grab the elderly woman and shield her with my body before the explosion turns the booth into nothing but splinters and burning paperboard.
Cortez is flat on the ground, three agents lying on top of him, shielding him with their bodies. The fourth—the one watching me—draws his weapon. His eyes blaze, and he takes aim.
“Jimmy!” I hiss. “Go. Go now!”
“Three seconds, Superman,” Austin says. “Get ready to burn the whole fucking thing to the ground.”
* * *
Domina
My thighs shake, the muscles ready to give out. Until several loud bangs—so much louder than I thought they would be—echo through the streets. “No!” I scream.
Charles tightens his grip on my arm. Behind the toolbox, Pinzon jabs his phone screen. “I can’t reach Sergio. The call won’t go through.” I do not dare turn my head to look at him. If I move, I will fall. But the anger in his voice… “Something’s wrong. Gustavo. Toss me your phone.”
A strange sound pierces the air. Not a whistle. Almost a whisper. Then another.
Screams come from the church. Leo…I will never see him again. My sobs turn into a wail.
I’m flying. Unable to draw a breath. The impact drives the air from my lungs. Twisting, rolling. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see the ground rushing up to meet me.
A heavy weight presses down on me. Is this what death is?
Four quick shots—so close they hurt my ears—shock me enough to risk opening my eyes. I’m on the floor of the unfinished apartment. Under…
“Austin?” I gasp. “How…?”
He smiles, still shielding me with his body. “Target secure. Hostiles neutralized.”
It’s only then I notice the rope stretching out the window and up. I must be hallucinating. Am I dying? If this were real, Leo would be here. Wouldn’t he?
“You’re going to be okay now,” he says as he rolls off of me. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I start to shake—or maybe I never stopped—and black spots float in front of my eyes. I blink hard, and he’s still here. Helping me sit up. Cutting the ties from my wrists.
Pinzon and Charles are dead. Blood pools under their bodies. I twist, desperate to see the third man.
“Hey,” Austin says, his voice gentle. “Don’t look. It’s not pretty. He’s dead, and none of these assholes will ever hurt you again.”
