With a couple inches of height on Jason, and slightly longer arms, the redhead was able to sneak inside Jason’s guard and get in a few hits of his own. But he was no match. Jason found his opening and kicked the guy in the balls, followed by a knee to the chin.
The redhead slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Breathing hard, Jason grabbed the man’s gun as the elevator settled on the ground floor. As soon as the doors opened, he pressed the emergency stop button and bolted into the lobby. High on adrenaline, he felt no pain as he dashed into the stairwell and raced to the third floor, flinging open the door to the landing with a sense of déjà vu.
Down the hall, muffled voices came from inside unit 303.
Bang!
A woman screamed.
No!Jason sprinted for the door handle, but it was locked. He lifted his right leg and kicked to the side of the deadbolt, but the door was solid and didn’t even crack. “Emma!”
Goddammit. He fumbled for his phone and started to dial the emergency number.
Something slammed into the door with a loudthunk, followed by another gunshot.
He dove to the side and rolled.
The door opened and Emma peeked out, her face stricken. “Jason?”
His body shuddered with relief. “Are you okay? What the fuck is happening?”
“Please help me,” she pleaded, tears in her eyes, a Beretta dangling from her right hand. “Natalie’s been shot.”
Jesus. He rose and followed her into the condo. The redhead’s partner from the elevator lay on the entry’s tiled floor with a chest full of bullet holes, a gun lying at his side. Holy shit, had Emma done that? He was poised to ask one of the fifty questions hammering at his brain while she locked the door behind him, but then he saw Nat slumped against the kitchen cabinets, her pink top soaked in blood.
“I left his buddy in the elevator, but he’s alive.” He gestured to the dead guy. “Be ready if he comes back.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Are you okay?”
He nodded reflexively. “Fine.” But the buzz was already starting to wear off. His left leg had begun to hurt in earnest, and other complaints were making themselves known across his body. If he’d learned nothing else from his training, it was how to work through the pain. Right now, Emma’s friend needed his attention.
“Call one-one-two,” he said to Emma as he wiped down the redhead’s gun with his shirt, setting it on the counter before washing his hands. Then, he crouched in front of her friend. “Natalie? My name’s Jason. Can I take a look at what we’re dealing with here?”
Her blue eyes opened. “Hot Stuff,” she whispered, nodding. “Not how I imagined this.”
Um, okay then. “Do you have a first aid kit?” he called to Emma as he carefully ripped open Natalie’s shirt to reveal a ragged hole in her upper right chest.
She was bleeding, but the wound wasn’t gushing like it would if the bullet had struck an artery. He didn’t see any signs of a pneumothorax either. Thank God.
“You have to get out of here,” Natalie whispered.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Kneeling next to Jason with a small bundle of first aid supplies, Emma shook her head. “We can’t leave you.”
“Call it in,” Natalie wheezed, giving Emma heavy eye contact. “Then, give me my phone.”
Emma blinked and took a deep breath, and then nodded as she stood.
Putting his questions on the back burner, Jason cleaned around the wound and applied a bandage, keeping pressure on the area. “I’m going to roll you,” he said, “to check for any other injuries, okay?”
At Natalie’s nod, he gently turned her body, tugging down the shirt to reveal her pale back. Finding no exit wound, he slowly returned her to her original position, trying hard to control his expression.
With luck, the lack of exit wound meant the bullet was smaller caliber and hadn’t done too much damage to her insides. Worst case would be a soft- or hollow-point round that expanded on impact to create maximum internal destruction.
He mostly tuned out Emma’s conversation since he didn’t understand enough German to follow along, and he was busy trying to keep her friend from bleeding out. “You’re going to be okay,” he told Natalie, infusing his voice with belief. “Medics are on the way.”
