She froze, her whole body seizing as adrenaline surged.

No. This can’t be happening.

It’s outside. I’m safe here. With Rand.

He grabbed her shoulders and nudged her toward the nearest cubicle. They were past the point of wasting time in hopes of finding the perfect hiding place. Any cover would do now.

He pushed her, pointing to the gap under the desk. She did what he wanted and crouched down, crawling backward so she faced out.

He bent down. His lips brushed the scar on her forehead, the lightest touch, then he wrangled a low, horizontal file cabinet out a few inches, providing a small gap for her to hide behind.

He pushed a wheeled chair in front of her, then she was alone.

The only sound in the vast room was the rapid, heavy pounding of her heart.

Rand grabbed a pair of scissors from a desk and snapped them in half. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He scanned the room for the best place to position himself.

His gut said the guy was coming.

The gunfire was close. Too close.

The room had four entrances, one near each corner. If the guy entered this building, which way would he come from?

His phone offered a description of the shooter and listed the buildings in the vicinity where he was last spotted. In the parking lot outside this building.

White lone gunman. Wearing a Navy Working Uniform—NWU—Type III. Hair color unknown due to the utility cover worn with the uniform.

No reports of injuries yet. Just shots fired.

The most recent shots had been fired at a vehicle. No word on if the hatchback was occupied. The alert was updated with the vehicle’s make and model. Rand’s heart would have seized if he didn’t have years of training under his belt.

He’d parked next to that car on purpose.

He’d first seen it last December, and later, he’d spotted it outside Morgan and Pax’s house when he left their baby shower with Staci. Dr. Kira Hanson’s nearly twenty-year-old blue Toyota Prius.

Why shoot at Kira’s car?

Why target this office building after hours? Kira’s final class had ended fifteen minutes before the alert sounded. The building had emptied out quickly, with the exception of stragglers waiting for a private chat with the instructor. Rand had outwaited them all because he’d wanted privacy.

Kira’s name and the details of her class had been all over the base chats. But it was also possible Diana was the target—no one expected Kira to step in today, and Diana’s class had been listed for weeks.

Diana didn’t have enemies within the military, but several terrorist groups had reason to want her dead. Likewise, Kira would be testifying when her abductors were put on trial in a few months.

Was Kira still in danger? The guy who’d hired henchmen to abduct her was wealthy and connected. He could easily contract a hit from jail—where he was currently residing while awaiting trial because he’d been denied bail. He might not care if he got Diana or Kira. Or he might want to take out both women. He would spend the rest of his life in prison even without Kira’s or Diana’s testimony, but he was a vindictive SOB.

Rand sent a text to his team, giving his and Kira’s position and alerting them that the shooter had targeted her vehicle. From the texts he’d received, he knew the guys on his team who were still on base at this hour were mobilizing. That included new team members Burns and Collins, along with old-timers Meyers and Kramer.

This was their turf. SEAL teams 2, 4, 10, and 18 were based here. Did the gunman really think he would escape? Or was this a suicide mission?

Plan set, Rand moved toward the door that was nearest the parking lot where Kira had parked.

If this guy was coming for Kira, he was in for a surprise.

The familiar roar of machine gun fire caused the windows to rattle. This time, the sound came from inside the building.

Chapter Five

Kira had been this terrified exactly once in her life, and what followed then had been as bad as she’d feared—abducted, drugged, beaten.

The only thing she hadn’t suffered was rape, and that was because Lieutenant Commander Randall Fallon had rescued her before she was handed over to the man who’d orchestrated her abduction.

Her terror was compounded this time. She wasn’t just scared for herself. Rand intended to take on a man armed with a freaking machine gun. Sure, he was a SEAL, but he wasn’t wearing body armor, and he didn’t have a gun.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could help him, but she felt cowardly hiding under a desk while he was exposed.

Another burst of gunfire sounded from below. Was anyone else in the building? Was he hunting someone in particular, or just seeking random victims?

For all she knew, there were other people hiding in nearby cubicles.

Her original flight to Malta would have landed an hour ago. Right now, she’d be at baggage claim, or maybe stuck in the passport control line.

Her precious passport. A document she’d wanted since she was eight years old and her father took off on yet another trip to Europe, leaving her and her mother behind.

When she was sixteen, she’d asked her mother if her dad had another family—and she didn’t mean the relatives who lived in a reunified Berlin that he’d supposedly visited.

Her mom had assured her that her father was faithful, making the statement with complete conviction. It had surprised Kira when she found her dad’s collection of passport books. He had nearly as many stamps for Malta as he did Germany. Maybe his other family was in Malta.

With both parents now dead, learning the truth wouldn’t hurt anyone except herself. The other papers she found didn’t confirm or deny the existence of another family. But they raised other questions.

Would she make it to Malta and learn her father’s secrets? Or was she destined to die in violence after all?

Would Rand, a man who must have been sent on dozens of ops as commander of a SEAL team, die here too? After all his years of service, would he end up the random victim of a homegrown terrorist?

The tango was in the hallway, just outside the door. His steps were slow and deliberate. He wanted to be heard. Wanted to be feared.

That’s what the bursts of machine gun fire were about. Attention.

Rand wouldn’t be surprised if the guy wasn’t military at all. A civilian playing dress-up. If he had a civilian Navy ID, he’d have base access and could pass through security no problem, then change into a borrowed uniform. They only randomly searched vehicles.

The door swung open, and the muzzle of an M4 carbine poked through. A singsong voice rang out, and Rand’s entire body went cold.

“Kiiiirrraa. Oh, Kiiirrrrra. Come out come out wherever you are…”