by CW Browning
Alina stared into his deep blue eyes. He was asking her to wait until he got back.
“I'll try,” she agreed, surprising herself.
Damon nodded slowly.
“That's all I can ask,” he said softly.
Alina caught her breath as he lowered his head slowly toward hers. His eyes were mesmerizing, dark pools of blue, and the room seemed to melt away. All that existed was the faint scent of his body wash and the heat coming from his solid strength. Damon watched her lips part slightly and he turned his head to whisper in her ear.
“Be careful, Viper.”
He brushed his lips against her temple and straightened up, turning to leave.
Alina blinked, forcing the over-whelming feeling of disappointment away as she turned on the chair to watch him go. At the door, Hawk paused with his hand on the handle and turned to look at her. She was leaning back against the bar, watching him with dark, unreadable eyes.
He smiled slightly, lowered one eyelid in a slow, sexy wink, and was gone.
Alina moved along the crowded city street quickly. The city buildings rose imposingly above her to the left, blocking the sun and leaving the impression of a cement curtain. Traffic streamed by on her right, just inches from the curb, throwing up noise and exhaust and adding controlled chaos to the hectic lunchtime rush hour. She was on her way to meet Stephanie, and Alina frowned as she moved past a group of men in suits that had stopped on the sidewalk, clustered around a smartphone.
Ever since emerging from the parking garage a block away, the hair on the back of her neck had been crawling. Viper felt eyes watching her, but she couldn't see them. She knew she was being followed, could sense it, but couldn't detect anyone on the crowded city streets. Alina berated herself for the hundredth time for coming out into the open like this. She knew better than this, but she had allowed herself to agree to Stephanie's lunch demand. Now all her instincts were screaming at her. What had she been thinking?!
Alina glanced up at the street sign as she came to a stop at a crowded corner, waiting with a throng of people for the light to change. The crowd was a mix of office workers hurrying back from lunch and tourists trying to find their way through the city. Viper moved seamlessly into the center of the crowd, giving herself as much protection as possible. Stephanie's office building was on the next block, and she moved forward thankfully with the crowd as the light changed. She felt exposed out on the street and anxiety was beginning to gnaw at her control. Her heart rate increased and her gut trembled deep inside her. Alina glanced around as she gained the pavement on the other side of the street. Half of her protective shield turned left and the other half continued straight, carrying Viper along with them. She still couldn't see anyone, but she knew he was out there.
Watching.
The FBI building took up half the block and, because this block was a no-parking zone, Alina didn't have the protection of parked cars along the street. She took a deep breath, flexing the fingers of her right hand. Her knife was nestled at her ankle, concealed by her heeled boots and black linen pants, and her .45 was under the matching loose jacket, but Viper was not comforted by their presence. Every instinct inside her was screaming to get out of the open and into a building. She watched Stephanie step out from glass doors ahead and forced herself to take another deep and steadying breath. She was almost there.
Stephanie looked both ways after stepping out of the building. Alina had called to tell her she was leaving the parking garage and to meet her out front because she didn't want to go into the building. Stephanie didn't blame her. It took forever just to get past the front desk, with all the security and metal detectors. Stephanie paused just short of the flow of human traffic and looked to her right. She saw Alina, a few feet away, dressed in a casual black linen suit. She smiled and turned towards her.
“Hi!” she exclaimed. “Thank God you're on time. I'm starving!”
Alina smiled.
“Good,” she replied, stepping out of the flow of people and into the concealing shadow of the alcove. “So am I! Where are we going?”
“A restaurant a few blocks from here,” Steph answered. “They make a Cobb salad that's amazing.”
Alina nodded, glancing around. Her heart was still pounding and she just wanted to get moving.
“Which way?” she forced a big smile.
Stephanie jerked her head in the direction that Alina had been heading.
“This way,” she said, turning to the left.
A sudden commotion behind them made both women pause and Alina instinctively moved to protect Stephanie as she sensed someone running up behind them. In an instant, the premonition and unease were gone. Alina inhaled as she turned quickly and calmly to face the threat, placing one hand on the side of Stephanie's shoulder, ready to push her out of the path of whatever might be coming.
The crowd on the sidewalk had shifted, making way for a figure in a beige trench coat and brown bowler hat, rushing through the crowd. Alina instantly registered the fact that the absurd figure was too short and slight to be The Engineer and her shoulders relaxed slightly. Then the figure stumbled suddenly, flying unceremoniously towards her. The ridiculous hat slipped to the side and Alina recognized Angela's face as her body came hurtling forward, her arms grasping at air. Surprise replaced the defensiveness as Alina quickly reached out to try to catch her friend.
Viper sensed, rather than heard, the shot.
It propelled Angela into her arms with more force than she had originally been traveling. She caught Angela with a gasp and her heart leapt into her throat as panic erupted on the sidewalk. The crowd of people around them instantly seemed to ebb away as someone screamed. Alina absorbed the noise of panic and commotion even as her mind reflexively tuned it out. Angela's face had a stunned look on it before her eyes slid shut and her body became a dead weight in Alina's arms.
Alina eased herself to the pavement quickly with Angela in her arms, face down across her lap. Her eyes shot up to the rooftops diagonal from them. Blood was starting to spread across Angela's back, and Viper followed the trajectory path with her eyes just in time to see the damning flash of sunlight against glass on a rooftop across the street, two blocks down.
Anger coursed through Viper, fury so strong that it almost blinded her. She sensed men running out of the building behind them and Stephanie yelling orders as she tried to keep the crowds back and away from Alina and her unconscious charge. Blood was flowing more rapidly now, soaking through the fabric of the coat, and Alina pulled her knife from her boot, using it to swiftly slice the back of the ridiculous trench coat open. The bowler hat was still hanging precariously on her head, concealing her face, and Alina tossed it aside impatiently.
“Oh my God! Angela!” Stephanie cried, dropping to her knees as Alina quickly ripped the coat apart, looking for the entry wound.
“Thank God,” she breathed, locating the oozing crater in the center of Angela's right shoulder.
She had a chance.
Alina looked up as Stephanie tore off her jacket. She grabbed it from her, folding it and pressing it into the wound. Motioning Stephanie closer, Alina gently eased Angela onto her lap. Then she took Stephanie's hands and pressed them down hard on the folded jacket.
“She's still breathing. Put all your weight on it,” Viper instructed harshly, replacing her knife in her boot and jumping to her feet in one motion.
Stephanie looked up at her, pressing her hands against Angela's shoulder blade, her face pale.
“Where are you going?” she demanded, taking in the blood on Alina's clothes and the grim look of fury on her face.
“Keep your phone on!” Alina replied evasively, turning and taking off into the crowd.
Stephanie watched her dart into the road and heard tires screeching and horns blaring as Alina ran through the traffic to the other side, where she disappeared into the crowd. Stephanie turned her attention back to Angela. Blood was already seeping through her jacket and onto her hands.
; “Where are those medics?!” she yelled to one of the guards, fear making her voice sharper than she intended.
He lifted his hand-held radio and barked into it as the glass doors flew open behind him. John appeared, his tie blown over his shoulder from running.
“What the hell happened?!” he yelled, taking in the inanimate figure in Stephanie's lap and all the blood.
The distress on her face made him catch his breath, and his eyes went back to the body almost fearfully. Stephanie saw the sudden look of horror and apprehension and understood instantly what he was thinking.
“It's not her!” she said quickly. “It's not Lina.”
“You were meeting her for lunch,” John spoke as if he hadn't heard her, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood soaking through the jacket under Stephanie's hands. Sirens sounded in the distance, loud and insistent.
“Yes, and this isn't Lina!” Stephanie's voice broke through the haze in his ears. “This is Angela.”
John stared at Stephanie.
“Where's...” he began, but Stephanie cut him off as an ambulance came careening around the corner.
“That way.” Stephanie motioned with her head. “GO!” she yelled when he hesitated.
John pushed through the crowds that were growing around the two women, breaking into the street as the ambulance lurched to a stop. Using the momentary pause in traffic to run across to the other side, he reached the sidewalk and glanced back to see medics running up to Stephanie and Angela. John paused and looked around helplessly. Where was he supposed to go? Where had she gone?
His heart pounding, John forced himself to stop and focus. He looked back at the front of his building and pictured Stephanie with a body in her lap, covered in blood. A body face down.
His head snapped around and he started running along the sidewalk, looking up at the rooftops. He crossed a side road and slowed down, glancing back again to the crowd in front of his building, and then up again. He started running again to the next block, glancing back once more. Slowing down, he looked up again before darting into the building a few feet away.
John labored up the multiple flights of stairs in the stairwell, headed for the roof. By the time he reached halfway, he was gasping for air. Pushing to keep going, he fought through the screaming objections of his respiratory system. He had no idea what he would find on the roof, if anything, but John knew that he had to get up there as quickly as possible. An invisible force was pushing him upward and a few minutes later, he erupted onto the roof, his gun in his hands.
The sun was shining brightly above the city and a fierce wind whipped across the roof. John blinked in the sudden glare of light, shielding his eyes with one hand as he glanced around. A lone figure was standing at the front of the building, looking out over the edge, toward the FBI building down the street. John glanced around the rest of the roof before turning his attention back to the still figure.
“Lina?” he called breathlessly.
Alina turned her head to glance back at him, her eyes dropping to the gun.
“You can put that away,” she called back. “He's long gone.”
John holstered his weapon and walked forward to stand beside her, breathing heavily.
Alina had her hands clenched at her sides, tension making her shoulders tight. She had just missed the bastard. When she came onto the roof, she caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared over the edge of the back of the building. By the time she reached the edge, The Engineer had vanished.
“He?” John asked, joining her.
He followed her gaze and watched as the ambulance came to life. They were too high up and too far away to hear the siren, but he watched as the lights came alive and the emergency vehicle slowly eased into the traffic.
“The sniper that shot Angela.”
Alina's voice was void of emotion and John glanced at her. The wind whipped her hair back from her head as she watched the ambulance, her face impassive. He knew she had to be feeling something, yet she looked as if she were simply discussing the weather. Her shirt was covered in blood, and there were smears on her jaw and her hands. John wondered if she was even aware of the blood.
“Why would a sniper shoot Angela?” John asked, looking back over the roof. “And why here?”
“He wasn't trying to hit Angela.”
The statement hung heavily in the air. John looked at Alina and watched as she turned away from the edge of the building tiredly. The ambulance had turned the corner and disappeared. She brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“She tripped and got in the way,” Alina added as she ran her eyes over the roof, knowing she wouldn't find anything left behind, but looking anyway out of habit.
“So who was he aiming for?” John demanded. Viper's cold brown eyes looked at him and he suddenly understood. “Stephanie,” he said shortly.
Alina glanced back the street and nodded.
“He was waiting for her,” she said, almost to herself. “Angela got in the way.”
Alina paused, frowning, and turned back to the roof edge.
“What is it?” John asked, watching as she moved forward slowly and crouched down near the edge.
“Why did he miss?” Alina asked.
John stood behind her.
“You said it yourself,” he answered. “He was aiming for Stephanie and Angela tripped and got in the way.”
Alina stared down the street at the FBI building. The flags in front of the building were barely moving, yet the wind up here was whipping her hair around her face. She continued to frown. He wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake and miscalculated the wind. No. The Engineer had missed Stephanie by a good three feet. Why?
“I wouldn't have missed,” Viper murmured softly, still staring at the front of the building.
“What are you thinking?” John prompted, staring down at the back of her head.
He hadn't heard her soft whisper and Alina didn't answer for a long time. She finally stood up slowly and when she turned to face John, he found himself staring at a stranger. This cold-eyed and methodical woman was someone he had never seen before.
“I want to know why he missed,” Alina repeated. “That was a straight shot.”
“Maybe the sun...” John looked over her shoulder down the street, his voice trailing off. Alina was already shaking her head.
“This man is an ex-military, Israeli-trained assassin,” she told him. “They don't miss.”
John looked at her, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“How do you know he's Israeli-trained?” he asked sharply.
“I know who he is,” Alina answered, moving around him and starting to head toward the stairwell door.
John reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” he said. Alina stopped and looked at him, “How do you know?”
“I...” Alina sighed. “He's known as The Engineer. I found out this morning,” she added before John could ask. “I was going to warn Stephanie at lunch.”
“You and Damon have been busy,” John remarked. “He was at our office this morning. He had the name of our corpse, and he seemed to think that you would have the name of the bomber by nightfall.”
Alina's lips curved slightly.
“We don't waste time,” she answered softly.
“Your resources seem to be extensive,” John said, watching her.
Alina met his gaze.
“They are,” she answered shortly. “And don't look any further than that,” she advised.
John grinned reluctantly.
“I doubt I would get very far, even if I did.”
That made her smile, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
“Not likely, no,” Alina agreed.
“Damon asked me to keep an eye on you. He seemed to think you might need it,” John told her, his voice low. “Why?”
Alina stared at him for a minute before gently pulling her arm away from him.
“You take care of your partner,” she said quietly. “She n
eeds you more than I do.”
“Damon didn't seem to think so,” John replied.
Alina raised an eyebrow and turned away toward the stairwell again.
“He didn't know she was going to become a target,” she tossed over her shoulder.
John pressed his lips together and glanced back at the roof edge before following her thoughtfully.
Chapter Fourteen
Stephanie looked up from where she was ensconced in a chair in the corner of the hospital room, her eyes going straight to the monitors next to the bed. The figure in the bed had stirred. She set aside her laptop and stood, stretching her arms above her head. The sun was setting outside and the gathering gloom was starting to penetrate the room through the double glazed windows. She walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at Angela. She was still sleeping, her face void of any color and her long lashes resting on her cheeks. Stephanie turned away from the bed and switched on the lamp on the bedside table. She went to the window and pulled the heavy, serviceable rust-colored curtains closed and then returned to her chair.
Angela was rushed straight into surgery when they arrived in the ER. Stephanie waited for three hours in the waiting room until the doctor finally came and told her that Angela had been moved to a private room in the critical care unit. The bullet went straight through her shoulder, surprisingly doing minimal damage. It shattered the scapula and grazed a rib before exiting cleanly through the front, above her right breast. None of the bone fragments had pierced her lungs, and the nerve damage appeared to be minimal. The doctor said frankly that it was a miracle the bullet hadn't taken a more destructive path. He warned that the risk of infection was the biggest concern right now and left her, still shaking his head in amazement.
Stephanie stared unseeingly at the bed. John stopped by earlier, bringing the news that their agents were canvassing the neighborhood. So far, they had found nothing to lead them to the shooter. That was over two hours ago. She hadn't heard from Alina at all. Stephanie had kept her phone on, waiting for a phone call, but none had come. Where was she? Was she safe? Angela had clearly tripped and gotten in the way of the bullet. John said Alina believed the shooter had been shooting at her. But why?