No answer.
“Who is Dr. Hanson to you?”
Silence.
Rand needed to update his team. He hoped his phone was still connected. He’d dropped it after throwing the obsidian ball. He shouted to Kira. “Call 9-1-1. Tell them I’ve got the gunman pinned.”
He heard her muffled voice just as the door slammed open and SEALs in battle gear poured into the room. Men from his team—Collins, Kramer, Burns, and Meyers—were the first through the door. Relief swept through him, but he didn’t dare relax his grip on the blade at the man’s throat or ease the weight on his chest.
He hadn’t been able to pat the guy down. For all he knew, he had more weapons tucked away.
The feral eyes grew even wilder as the SEALs approached. Blood pooled beneath his head.
“Who are you?” Rand asked.
The guy bucked upward as the SEALs circled him. More men from other SEAL teams joined the party. At least a dozen armed men filled the aisle and the muzzles of no fewer than five rifles pointed at the man’s face. Slowly, Rand removed the blade from his throat and shifted his weight from the knee on his chest.
He patted him down, finding a pistol and a nasty hunting knife. He passed off the weapons to Collins in exchange for a pair of handcuffs, then rolled the guy onto his stomach to cuff him.
The pool of blood beneath the guy’s head was bigger than he’d expected. Rand studied the cut at the base of the guy’s skull.
The sharp edge of the obsidian paperweight must have landed like an axe blade.
“We need a medic. Now.”
Even as he said the words, the man on the floor started to twitch. He made a gagging sound, and Rand rolled him over again and ripped away the bandanna that covered the lower half of his face.
Foamy pink spittle poured from his mouth. His eyes rolled back as his body convulsed.
Chapter Six
Kira was chilled to her core. She sat alone in a room on base that she assumed housed Naval Special Warfare Command or base security. She and three others who’d been sheltering in the sea of cubicles had been brought here even as an ambulance was loaded with the gunman. She’d met Rand’s gaze as she was escorted away while he was being questioned.
Kira and the other civilians had given their accounts separately. One by one, the other three had been dismissed. Only she remained, but she understood why.
The man had been hunting her. He’d called her by name. Shot up her car.
Investigators were bound to have more questions to which she didn’t have answers.
She paced the small room, rubbing her arms as she waited on hold with the airline, once again changing her flight. The person at the call center was getting authorization to bump her to first class as that was the only seat available on the flight leaving later tomorrow. The shooting had made national news, and she explained to the airline employee that she was currently stuck on the base, having been directly involved.
After a lengthy wait, the airline associate came back on the line with the good news that their supervisor had approved the upgrade for only half the cost.
Kira swallowed and pulled out her credit card. Truth was, she’d have paid full price if she had to. She was getting the hell out of this country where men had a nasty habit of hunting her.
She was still flying tomorrow, but instead of leaving at five a.m., she would now depart at four p.m.
Nothing would stop her from catching that flight. Her car would probably be in impound, but she’d ask someone from Friday Morning Valkyries to have it towed to a repair shop when it was released. She would rent a car, drive back to DC, get her bags, then return the vehicle to the rental company at Dulles.
She had a plan. And a ticket.
The door opened. She turned to see Rand’s wide shoulders filling the opening. He gave her a weak smile, and she couldn’t stop herself—no matter how much she believed allowing herself to get close to him was a mistake—and flung herself into his arms.
He wrapped her in a tight hug. She buried her face against his hard chest. He was warm and comforting, and the shakes that had been plaguing her since she climbed under that desk finally faded.
Tears burned, but she forced them down. She would not fall apart in front of the strong man who’d faced down a machine gun with a rock and a pair of scissors.
The game Rock, Paper, Scissors came to mind, and she said, “Thank god you didn’t throw paper.”
It took him a moment, but then she felt his chest move with a silent laugh. “Sweetheart, I’m also deadly with paper.”
She snickered, but then his word choice sank in, and she raised her head to meet his gaze. “Did he die?”
He nodded.
She studied Rand’s face. She had no doubt he’d killed before. Probably many times. But that was different. He’d been on ops. Serving his country. Rescuing abductees. Taking out terrorists.
This guy was a terrorist too, but an unexpected one, attacking his military base. Still, he hadn’t been aiming to kill the man.
“I’m only sorry because it means it’ll take longer to get answers as to why he was hunting you.”
She nodded. “They haven’t told me anything. Did he…was anyone hit by all those bullets?”
He gave a sharp nod. “C’mon. Everyone’s gathered in the main conference room. They have more questions for you.”
“I don’t know anything.”
