The team all stiffened.
“Contact Nat and Kinsey,” Lachlan said. “Tell them to evacuate the convention center.”
Brooks swiped on the screen. “I can’t get through. No comms.”
“Fuck.” Lachlan punched his prosthetic hand into the wall, leaving a large hole.
Callie moved close to Brooks. “Brooks and I will go there. It’s not too far away. We’ll evacuate the kids while you guys stop Holder.”
Lachlan’s intense, gold gaze whipped around to look at her, then Brooks. He nodded. “Do it.”
Callie grabbed Brooks’ hand and tugged him down the hall. She hit the door marked “Stairs” and they started downward.
“Callie, there’s a shitload of bad weather between us and the convention center.”
She met his gaze. “We’ll make it, Brooks.”
They had to.
* * *
Brooks was breathing hard by the time they hit the bottom of the stairs. They raced across the now empty lobby and out to the SUVs.
The wind tore at his clothes and whipped his hair around, stinging his eyes. It belatedly occurred to him that he needed a haircut.
Halfway to the vehicle, the rain started, pelting down on them in sheets. Brooks and Callie were both soaked in an instant.
Callie climbed into the driver’s seat, and he dived into the passenger seat and slammed the door. She gunned the engine and peered through the windshield, her face tight.
Rain splattered hard, drumming on the roof. Her hands flexed on the wheel.
“Cal?”
She pulled in a deep breath. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.”
They pulled out onto the road. Water was running like rivers down the curbs. There were no other cars driving, and the road was turning into a small lake.
The rain intensified, and he felt the tension throbbing off Callie. He realized that this had to be a nightmare for her, reminding her of the day she’d lost her sister and father.
Damn, he didn’t know what to do to help her. Then he heard her suck in a breath. He looked forward and spotted the huge tornado.
A rock dropped into his gut. It was fucking huge, like something out of a horror movie. His throat went tight.
It was moving slowly, picking up cars and anything else loose in its path.
They had to save those kids.
“Dammit,” Callie cursed.
“What?”
She was staring into the rearview mirror. “We have two cars speeding up behind us.”
Brooks looked back and saw the dark vehicles. Crap. Suddenly, bullets peppered the back window. The glass was bulletproof, but a spider web of cracks appeared.
They both ducked down and Callie sped up.
She was concentrating on dodging abandoned cars and other debris that had been blown into the street. Then she whipped the wheel, turning onto a side street with a screech of tires.
“Here.” She shoved a Glock into his palm.
Brooks juggled his tablet down beside him, then checked the pistol. Then he lowered his window. With the wind pummeling him, he leaned out, aimed, and fired.
One car swerved, sideswiping a parked car. It then pulled back and hit a large pool of water, sending plumes spraying up everywhere.
The other car gunned its engine and sped closer.
“Callie, they’re going to—”
The car rammed into the back of them.
Brooks was tossed forward, and with a curse, slid back inside. “Fuckers.”
“Brooks!” The sound of Nat’s voice made him reach for the tablet. Her beautiful face appeared on the screen, her expression stressed.
“Nat! The others are going after Holder. Callie and I are headed to the convention center.” Callie swerved around some debris and he was tossed to the side. He looked forward, gaze snagging on the huge tornado ahead. “There’s a fucking giant tornado headed toward the convention center. The place is packed full of kids.”
“Oh, God.” Nat muttered a curse worthy of a sailor. “I’ve been busy helping coordinate emergency responders to a school that was hit by lightning strikes. I’ll contact the convention center to warn them and start the evacuation. Stay safe.”
“Nat’s going to try and evacuate the convention center,” he told Callie.
“Good.” Callie wrenched the wheel and they zoomed down another street, rain pelting against the car. Brooks was thrown against his seat.
Then he looked at the tablet and froze.
“The storm’s changing.”
She glanced at him. “What?”
“The tornado is still headed toward the convention center, but the eye of the storm has changed.”
“Where is it?”
“Our location.”
Callie stiffened. Brooks looked back, peering at the car that was still in pursuit. He spotted a blonde head in the passenger seat. Damn.
“Amy Holder is in the car behind us.”
“That bitch is going down,” Callie muttered.
He grinned. “I like it when you’re bloodthirsty.”
That earned him a faint smile.
“Actually, I like everything about you, Callie.”
He saw her mouth drop open, then more bullets hit the back of the SUV. This time, the window shattered.
Callie swerved. “Get down!”
He ducked. The car rammed into them again.
Then their tires skidded on the wet road and they started to slide. Callie fought to get control of the SUV.
“Callie, look out!” Brooks yelled.
A parked truck blocked the road in front of them.
She slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel. The SUV slid, the rear end sliding sideways.
They rushed closer to the truck and Brooks’ heart lodged in his throat. He threw out a hand, grabbing Callie’s fingers.
Their SUV smashed into the truck and flipped.
Then there was only breaking glass, the sound of ripping metal, and pain.
Chapter Nineteen
Blood was dripping in her eye.
With a groan, Callie swiped it away and tried to clear her throbbing head.
She blinked a few times and opened her eyes. Twisted metal and smashed glass filled her vision. Rain was pelting in through the broken windshield, splashing her face.
For a second, she was back at another crash. The rain, the stench of gasoline and blood, it was all the same, plunging her back in time.
Then she heard someone let out a deep groan of pain.
Brooks.
Struggling with her belt, she managed to unclip it and sit up. The SUV was bent and smashed, but it was right-side up, thankfully.
“Brooks?
“I’m…okay.”
He didn’t sound okay. Throat tight, Callie turned to him.
He was slumped in the seat, covered in blood. Again, her head fogged, and she saw a blood-covered, crying Bec begging for help.
“Callie.”
Brooks’ voice snapped her back to reality.
“Brooks.” She crawled over the cracked center console and sucked in a breath. A huge shard of glass was embedded in his shoulder.
There was a squeal of tires and, when she looked up, she saw Holder’s car screech to a stop beside them.
No. She needed to help Brooks.
“Brooks.” This time her voice was a harsh whisper.
“Cal.” He lifted his arm and handed her the Glock. “Go do your thing.”
She closed a hand around the butt of the pistol. Whatever it took, she’d protect him. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt him anymore.
Swiveling, she elbowed the rest of the broken glass out of the windshield. Then she pulled herself up and pushed out onto the hood.
The rain intensified, but through the gloom, she spotted three armed men heading in their direction.
Oh no, you don’t.
She took aim and fired. Bang.
One went down, while the other two dived for cover. She slithered out the window
and crouched beside the ruined SUV. Movement caught her eye and she shifted her weapon.
Bang.
A man’s cry was sucked away by the wind. She didn’t think she’d done more than wing him.
Callie crept around the vehicle, and gunshots cracked through the storm. The assholes were firing at her car. At Brooks.
Screw this. Anger exploded inside her. It twisted with her fear and pain. The image of a bloodied, hurt Brooks made her leap to her feet.
She strode toward where the men were crouched. She kept her weapon up and aimed.
A man rose and saw her, his eyes widening.
Bang.
The headshot took him down. She heard another gunshot and felt a sting across her arm. Ignoring the burn, she pivoted.
A big body tackled her from the side, the heavy weight driving her onto the wet road.
Callie and her attacker skidded on the slick pavement. Then she jammed her elbow up, smacking him in the jaw. Immediately, she rammed her knee up, hitting him between the legs.
She turned into a whirlwind of hits. Her attacker let out a strangled groan, his hold slackening.
With a giant shove, she pushed him off. Then she kicked him and watched him curl up on the ground.
Then she dropped down on top of him and pressed her arm to his neck. She pushed hard, watching his eyes bulge. Her anger still driving her, she didn’t let up. The man choked and finally slumped into unconsciousness.
She slammed the butt of the gun into his head, then snatched up his weapon. She checked it and shoved it in the waistband of her trousers.
Then she rose. Rain continued to pour down on her, and pain was slamming through her body with every beat of her heart. Her left arm was bleeding. That bullet had left a shallow graze, and she couldn’t lift it.
Locking down the pain, she started back to Brooks.
Then she heard footsteps and raised her head.
Amy Holder stepped into view. She had a pistol aimed at Callie.
“It’s over, Holder,” Callie said. “We won’t give up until we stop you.”
The woman shook her head, her rain-drenched hair slick against her skull. “I’ll never give up. This is what I was born to do.”
“Kill innocent people? Destroy the lives of kids?”
Holder shrugged. “The worthy aren’t here, gambling, drinking, and fornicating in Las Vegas. The loss of sinners will make the world a better place.”
“You’re cracked. You don’t get to decide who’s worthy and who’s not.”
“I will finish what I started.” Holder fired.
Callie ducked and when she looked up, she saw Holder run into the construction site beside them. A new casino was being built, and the main building was only about half a dozen floors high and ringed by scaffold. A bright-yellow construction crane loomed overhead.
Shit. Callie wanted to follow her. Wanted to end this.
But Brooks needed her.
Limping, she turned back to the SUV. It was so mangled, and she felt a lump in her stomach. Please be okay, Brooks.
She got to the passenger side and saw him slumped in the seat.
There was so much blood. It covered his neck and his clothes were soaked. The huge shard of glass embedded in his skin mocked her.
He turned his head and lifted a bloodstained hand. “Callie.”
Callie couldn’t fight the memories. She was thrust back into her past, sitting beside another ruined car, rain pelting down on her, a terrified Bec lifting her blood-covered hand to Callie.
* * *
Fuck, he hurt. So damn much.
He saw Callie crouched beside him, frozen. She had a streak of blood on her cheek, and her left arm dangled by her side.
But she was alive, thank God.
“Oh, Brooks.” She pulled a knife off her belt, reached over him, and cut his seatbelt off.
Her hands were shaking.
“There’s so much blood.”
Her voice was strangely blank, and he worried she was going into shock. “Hey.”
“The rain. If only it didn’t rain.” Her voice hitched.
Brooks realized that she was trapped in the past. Trapped in a nightmare that she couldn’t break free of.
“Callie, we’re right here. Together.”
“You’re hurt, and I can’t help you.”
“You can. You’re the best damn medic I know.” He put as much steel into his voice as he could.
Large, gray eyes met his. “I couldn’t help them.”
“Because back then, you were a sixteen-year-old girl. Now you’re a fully trained, combat medic.”
She was breathing too fast, close to hyperventilating.
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, but damn, it took a lot of energy to move. “You can do this. You are the strongest, most incredible woman I know. You took a tragedy and used it to become something amazing. You gave your dad and your sister’s lives meaning. When there’s danger, you run into it, without hesitation, to save others. Your father and sister would be so damn proud.”
Her gaze locked with his, and he saw something flicker in them.
“They’d want you to let them go, to be free.”
She pressed a hand over his.
“You’re amazing, Cal. It’s no wonder that I love you.”
She jolted.
“Now, patch me up and get me out of this wreck. We’ve got a bad guy—or rather, a bad woman—to catch.”
He watched Callie click back in. Her face hardened, and she pulled out her first aid kit. He watched her morph into the steady combat medic she was.
The first thing she did was give him a painkiller.
Then she stared at his injury. “This is going to hurt.”
“You can kiss it better later,” he said.
She gripped the glass shard and, without any hesitation or warning, pulled it out. He groaned at the pain, but then she was busy, applying pressure and probing the wound.
Nausea rushed into his throat.
“It’s okay, Brooks,” she murmured. “Look at me.”
He did. He’d never tire of looking at her high cheekbones and beautiful gray eyes. He tried to slow his breathing.
She pressed something else to his wound and then started bandaging him.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
He blinked, and realized the pain was fading. “Better.”
“I gave you Ty’s super mix.” She stroked his arm. “But you’ve lost a lot of blood, so you need to take it easy.”
Stepping back, she shoved the bent door out of the way. Then she helped him swing his legs out. He sat up. Everything still hurt, but at least he wasn’t going to pass out.
She leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me. For talking me down.”
“You would have gotten there yourself.”
A wild flash and a loud crack of thunder made them both jolt. The lightning had struck close by, sending sparks showering through the air.
They both looked up.
“Oh, shit,” Brooks said.
Above them, the clouds were churning fast.
“Holder,” Callie said. “She’s making it worse.”
“Where is she?”
Callie jerked her head. “She ran into the construction site.”
Brooks scanned the open floors and scaffold. The tower was only partly constructed. On the top floor, he caught a blur of movement. “There!”
Callie spotted the woman and she tensed, her body almost vibrating.
“Go,” he told her.
She looked back at him. “No, I’m not leaving you here.”
“I’m fine. Go take that woman down.”
Callie hesitated.
“Go,” he said again. “Show her that she messed with the wrong city and the wrong team.”
She gave him a quick kiss. Then she rose, turned, and sprinted into the construction site.
Brooks blew out a breath a
nd gingerly fumbled around. He found his tablet, noting that the screen was cracked. But when he touched it, it flared to life. Thank God. He tried to contact the others.
Come on. He hated that Callie was up there alone, facing off with a woman armed with a terrible, powerful artifact.
Suddenly, there was a burst of static in his ear. Lachlan’s voice.
“Lachlan?”
“Brooks! Where are you guys?”
“We’re about halfway to the convention center. Holder came after us and we crashed.” He rattled off their location.
“Okay, sit tight,” Lachlan said.
“Holder is here. She’s in some half-constructed casino, and Callie’s gone after her.”
“We’re on the way.”
Thank fuck. Brooks looked up, trying to see through the rain. He saw another flash of movement and spotted Callie on the rooftop. She was sneaking up on Holder.
But then the older woman turned.
Lightning hit the rooftop, and Callie’s body flew through the air.
No.
His heart stopped, then it leaped into his throat, choking him.
He had to help her.
With panic making his hands slick, he tried to rise. Pain drove him back into the seat. Shit. Damn. Fuck. He couldn’t even stand. His panic grew. He couldn’t get up there to help her.
Think, Brooks. Otherwise, the woman you love will die.
He sucked in a deep breath and blinked. His gaze fell on his tablet.
He’d help her the best way he could.
Chapter Twenty
Callie slammed into the concrete, her cheek scraping against the rough surface. Pushing up to her hands and knees, she shook her head to clear it.
Moving into a crouch, she stared across the rooftop at Holder.
The woman was holding the wind jewel in her hand, looking up at the monstrous storm clouds.
Callie needed to take her down.
Dammit, she’d lost her gun. She slowly rose, the wind howling around them.
“I will cleanse the Earth!” Holder shouted into the storm. “The good and righteous will rejoice!”
Callie rolled her eyes. Not today, lady.
But as Callie neared, another bolt of lightning speared down. It cracked the concrete near her feet, and she leaped back.
Mission: Her Freedom: Team 52 #6 Page 15