Page 2 of Witness Security Breach

When he made his move, it had to be the right time and place. He didn’t want to be one of Charlie’s lovers who had the shelf life of bread. He wanted to be the love of her life.

“Leaving Mrs. Potter behind with a clean break isn’t our decision to make,” he said.

“Nevertheless, Tweedledee and Tweedledum outside have a point. This is taking too long. We agreed that we’d be in and out in ten minutes.”

Aiden didn’t need to check his watch to instinctively know they’d been inside for six. Already his gut agreed with Charlie. They’d been there too long.

“You still have that bad feeling?” she asked, her hand resting on the gun on her hip.

The moment they’d pulled up, it was as if a clammy finger had been dragged down his spine.

He wished he could chalk it up to nerves over keeping his big news from Charlie. Telling her that this might be their last assignment together if he accepted the coveted position as an SOG instructor at Camp Beauregard in Louisiana. It was a conversation he wanted to have about as much as he wanted to get a root canal without Novocain. But this wasn’t nerves.

Aiden stepped away, scrubbing a palm over his jaw. “Yeah, I still have it.”

“You might be in denial about your sixth sense, but I’m not. I’ve learned the hard way never to ignore your gift.”

Denial couldn’t be further from the truth. If experience was any indication, the prickly tingle warned that someone was going to die today.

Was it a gift to know when death was going to come calling? Felt more like a curse.

“We can’t wait for Eugene to pull it together.” Charlie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Crossed her arms over her chest. “We need to go.”

No bad feeling necessary to realize that was an understatement.

There was a high price on Eugene’s head. His personal information had been sold on the dark web. At least one hit man that they were aware of had been contracted, prompting the urgent relocation. It was possible others might come slithering out of the gutter to try to collect.

A toilet flushed and water ran.

Eugene stumbled out of the bathroom, looking peaked and more devastated than before. “I need to talk to Sharon, say goodbye at the very least. Tell her I’m sorry. I owe her that.”

Aiden threw Charlie an I-told-you-so look, which she returned with a conciliatory nod.

“Let me grab something first,” Eugene said, “and then we can go.”

“There’s no time for you to pack anything.” Aiden sidestepped, blocking his path. “All the essentials will be at the SSPC, just like last time.”

“It’ll only take a second. I won’t leave without it.” Eugene pivoted, scurrying around him to the open shelving beside the stove, which was lined with cookbooks, dishes and knickknacks. He took down a display of wine corks in a tall glass vase, dumped them onto the counter and fished out one from the pile. A relieved look washed over him. “Okay. Now we can g—”

The kitchen window shattered with a pop.

“Get down!” Aiden was already in motion as the words left his mouth.

He lunged for Eugene. At the same time, Charlie drew her 9 mm, taking a defensive posture.

Aiden shoved Eugene hard to the floor as the vase on the counter shattered, spraying glass over them. More bullets buzzed through the air and punched holes in the cabinets, sending jagged plywood shards in all directions.

They had one big problem. The rifle trained on them.

Covering his head with his hands, Eugene shrieked but had the sense to stay pinned in the chaos of the fusillade.

Aiden tightened his hold on him, ensuring Eugene was shielded. No bullet would reach Eugene unless it went through Aiden first.

Charlie? Her name was on his tongue when she came crawling around the kitchen island with her STI Staccato-P, locked and loaded, in hand. Only SOG carried the STI rather than the Glock 22 that rank-and-file marshals were issued. What elite operator didn’t want a gun that held twenty-one rounds, shot superfast and never failed in accuracy?

Another volley of gunfire tore through the room.

Distance. Aiden needed distance from the scene.