Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
This was an opportunity. One she hadn’t counted on so soon, but she knew how to adapt. With Wayne down, she was unencumbered. Free to finish what she’d started. But not yet. The shooter was still coming. He wouldn’t expect her to fight back. Probably.
She crouched and plucked Wayne’s Glock from the forest floor, finding the weapon to be both cool and familiar in her grip. Then she turned, remaining fluid and calm. Rain slashed down, hindering her vision.
The assailant saw her and hesitated. Just for a second.
It was enough.
Abigail raised the gun, aimed cleanly, and fired.
The first shot missed, embedding itself in a tree trunk. The second found its mark, striking the assailant’s leg. A guttural cry escaped him as he stumbled backward, retreating toward his vehicle.
Abigail advanced, not feeling anything. She could hear Wayne behind her, grunting as he must’ve stood, crashing through branches.
She fired again, and the bullet grazed the attacker’s shoulder. He ran faster and so did she, firing again. Missing. She could barely see through the branches and punishing rain. He scrambled into the truck, and the engine roared to life. The tires spun, kicking up mud and debris as he sped away, disappearing into the murk.
Silence enveloped the forest once more, broken only by Wayne’s labored breathing. Abigail turned to see him falling onto his back, the rain pummeling him, his eyes closed. She observed his pallor, the sheen of sweat on his brow.
She walked to him slowly. Deliberately. Stood over him. She could leave and let the mud soak him in. Let the bullet do the job.
But not now. Sighing, she strode back to his hissing truck and fetched his radio. Then she clicked the button and shoved the right kind of panic into her voice. “Help! Agent down! FBI Agent Wayne Norrs is down. We need medevac and backup now. I don’t know if the shooter’s still in the area. Just get someone out here, please!”
Static crackled, then a voice replied, sharp and immediate. “Copy that. Agent down. Transmit location. Stay put.”
She returned into the trees and planted her hands over Wayne’s chest to stem the blood. Was he still alive? He couldn’t die yet. She might still need his visible support at the trial, if she had one.
If he died, she’d have to come up with another plan.
Chapter 34
Laurel pushed through the hospital’s automatic doors as rain slid off her jacket. The fluorescent lights were nearly blinding after the murky day outside. Abigail sat in a plastic chair with dried blood smeared on her hands. Wet strands of hair curled just slightly where they clung to her collarbone, and she appeared pale beneath the fluorescent lights.
Laurel reached her quickly. “How is he?”
Abigail looked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed, not from crying. Laurel had seen that look before. It was adrenaline tapering off a high. “He’s in surgery. Penetrating trauma to the right hemithorax. Entry wound just medial to the midclavicular line. The projectile missed the heart but collapsed the lung. They’re concerned about internal hemorrhaging and vascular involvement.”
Laurel sat beside her. The chair squeaked, cheap vinyl protesting her presence. She liked Agent Norrs. He appeared to be a trustworthy and conscientious agent. “What happened?”
Abigail arched a brow. “Why are you here without bodyguards? There’s a shooter out there.”
“I have two on the outside door right now.” Laurel couldn’t shake them. “Now talk, please.”
Abigail took a deep breath. “Are you taking my official statement?” Her eyeliner had bled slightly beneath her eyes. Not perfect. That was new.
“Yes. Everyone else is still searching for Viv. You’ll give a formal statement later, but I want your raw account. Now.”
Abigail flicked her hand like she was batting away something unworthy of her time. “We went to pick up pizzas for the joint task force at Fish and Wildlife. Just a favor run. A truck came out of nowhere and T-boned us hard.”
Laurel cut her a look. “You have an eidetic memory. I want detail for detail.”
Abigail’s nod was sharp. “He was masked and his movements were surprisingly graceful. He fired first and followed us into the trees. His shots were aimed at center mass, and he maintained a textbook tactical stance. He seemed genuinely surprised when I grabbed Wayne’s Glock from the ground and returned fire.”
“You sure you hit him?”
“Positive. Twice. Lower extremity—right thigh—and lateral aspect of the upper arm. He flinched both times. But he kept moving.”
Laurel nodded once, her mind already ten steps ahead of the moment. “We’ve issued BOLOs and then called clinics, hospitals, and even veterinary offices within two hours of here to provide warning. They’ll call us if he seeks help.”
Abigail leaned back, eyes calculating. “I barely slowed him down.”
Laurel resisted the urge to pat Abigail’s hand. “Yes, but he’s hurt.” She thought through the scenario. “Are you certain he aimed for Wayne and not you?”