CHAPTER 7
DON’T REACT, CAIT. But Glenn’s mouth slipped into a sickly smile of triumph. She’d given away the truth.
A shiver chased down her spine.
“I wasn’t one hundred percent sure,” he said, “but how many white, female pilots can there be in the Caribbean?”
“So now you’re going to…what?” she asked. “You think people don’t know where we are tonight? Or why?”
He insolentlylifted a shoulder. “Things happen in the jungle.”
Her stomach turned hollow. But if he planned to kill them and make it look like an accident, he wouldn’t want to shoot them now, right? Maybe they could work with that. She glanced at Kurt, who stood rigid at her side with his gaze on Glenn’s backup gunman. Was he thinking the same thing?
It was her fault for getting him into this mess. She hadn’tknown Glenn was onto her, and she shuddered to think how he’d figured it out. Right now, though, she had to get herself and Kurt out of this alive.
This was what all that Krav Maga training she’d taken had been for. She’d practiced disarming maneuvers for hours at a time. But even if she could execute the move effectively, what about Kurt? He was too far from the other guy to use the same tactic.
Her throat tightened. She’d have to trust him to get out of harm’s way.
She counted to three.Come on, muscle memory.
With a deep breath, she exploded into action.
Head to the side.
Hand up to the trigger guard.
Redirect the weapon and turn.
Snap and twist the gun out of his hand.
Step back.
Holy shit, it worked! The whole action had taken a second, if that.
Glenn blinked and stared athis Glock, now in her hands. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t move.” Her pulse drummed in her ears as she aimed the gun at his chest, positioning herself out of reach.
Behind Glenn, his backup man was on the floor, unconscious. Kurt had figured out how to turn the tables on the guy despite the distance between them. Undoubtedly, he had skills and training far beyond hers. He hadn’t just been a PJ, he’dalso been part of a special tactics squadron, which was a whole other level of elite.
“What are you going to do?” Glenn taunted, his wary eyes belying his bluster. “Shoot me?”
Good question. “I’d rather not, but don’t test me.” The magazine was in, the trigger was forward, so at the very least there was a round in the chamber, ready to fire. And Glocks had their safety built into the trigger.
She had no desire to shoot him, but he’d be a fool to make a move.
He had the gall to smirk.
“Got any idea what to do with them now?” she asked Kurt, who was using his belt to restrain the man on the floor.
Upstairs, a floorboard squeaked, drawing Caitlyn’s attention.
Glenn rushed her. Something flashed in his hand at the corner of her vision.
She pressed the trigger.
The gun kicked.
