Aimee Thurlo - Undercover Warrior

Just to be sure, Kyle took a quick glance around the back, and, as he’d guessed, nobody was there anymore. He stepped closer, placing himself between Erin and the front, his M4 in position to take out anyone stupid enough to look around the corner.

“They’ve got Hank!” she whispered, reaching for the pistol on the ground. She pulled back the slide just enough to verify a round was in the chamber, then checked the safety.

Surprised, he looked directly at her. “You know how to use that?”

“I was born and raised in rural New Mexico. Of course I do.”

He gave her a quick grin. Beautiful and gutsy. He liked her already. “Okay. Watch yourself,” he said, never taking his eyes off the corner as he stepped forward.

Crouching low, he inched around and aimed his weapon at the two men holding Hank between them. Both were looking away, one at the far corner, the other at the street.

Silently, he moved across the gravel and managed to outflank them, placing himself in a position to cut them off if they ran for the street exit. “Put down your weapons or I’ll drop you!” he yelled.

Both spun around and fired, one shot shattering an office window behind him, the other tugging at Kyle’s left shoulder, ripping fabric not flesh.

The sudden distraction gave Hank Leland a chance. He broke free and ran for his life toward the street.

Hearing screeching tires as a gray van raced into the parking lot, Kyle hit the ground and rolled. “Hank, watch out!” he yelled seconds too late.

The van’s passenger-side front end suddenly struck Leland head-on, throwing him up into the air. Hank landed with a thud on the asphalt fifteen feet away, right in front of the fleeing gunmen.

As the van skidded to a stop, Kyle rose to one knee, weapon up. That’s when he saw the assault-rifle barrel poking from the driver’s-side window. He only had one quick look at the face but it was a woman, and she looked pissed.

He dove behind a whiskey-barrel planter to his left as a flurry of rounds dug into the ground where he’d been only a few seconds ago.

Prone, Kyle brought his M4 around and aimed it at the van. The men had stopped long enough to grab Hank by the arms and were dragging his inert form toward the van.

Kyle fired two quick rounds, aiming high, not wanting to hit Hank, but hoping to force them to let him go.

It worked. They dropped him and piled into the van.

Kyle rolled behind the barrel just as the woman fired another burst, showering him with chunks of the oak barrel. He moved to the left this time, but his own SUV was in his line of fire now, shielding the van as it backed up.

Jumping to his feet, Kyle tried to get a clear shot, but there was a school bus passing by on the street. He couldn’t risk it.

Hearing running footsteps behind him, he turned his head and saw Erin Barrett jogging toward him in a crouch, gun down at her side. Her eyes were on Hank.

As the van raced down the street and disappeared around a corner, she ran across the asphalt and knelt by the wounded man. “Hank, don’t you dare let them win. You fight and stay here with us!”

Kyle was already dialing 911 when she turned her head to look up at him, fear mirrored on her face.

“Who are you, and why didn’t you get here sooner?”

The question threw him for a beat. “I’m an agent with the IRS,” he said, using the cover that usually brought questions from the curious to an abrupt stop. “Help will be here soon,” he said, coming up to her. “Mr. Leland’s still breathing, so he’s got a chance, just don’t move him. The bleeding isn’t bad, but he undoubtedly has broken bones and internal injuries.”

She put her hand on Leland’s. “I’m here, Hank. Hang on.”

He watched her, trying to figure out if she was a well-placed mole working with terrorists, or the real deal. Until he knew, trusting her was out of the question.

Chapter Two

Erin held on to Hank’s hand and continued talking to him. She remembered someone, somewhere, saying that even if you were unconscious you might still be able to hear others.

“You can get through this,” Erin repeated, her voice trembling. Desperate to sound as if she believed what she was saying, she cleared her throat and tried again, squeezing his hand very gently. “Don’t give up.”

As the ambulance arrived and the medical team rushed over, she rose to her feet and stepped back, allowing the EMTs to work. The Navajo man who’d saved her life, shooting the gunman who’d pushed her out into the line of fire, joined her.

“What’s your name?” she managed. He was almost a foot taller than her, and his eyes were dark as midnight. They held an intensity that scared her a bit, too, even though she knew she had nothing to fear from him. If it hadn’t been for this man, she might have been dead by now.

“I’m Agent Kyle Goodluck, IRS. Who were those people with the guns? Do you know any of them?”

Goodluck... She was alive, and so was Hank at the moment, so maybe he’d lived up to his name. She tried to smile, but the sickeningly sweet scent of blood was making her head spin. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“Did Hank know them?”

“I’m not sure.” Seeing him searching the ground, she added, “Did you lose something?”

“I’m hoping to find a cell phone someone may have dropped during the gun battle. Do you have yours and did Hank have one on him?”

“No. Hank said he left his at home, and mine’s on my desk. They made me leave it behind.”

Fueled by intense fear, her mind was racing. Something about Kyle Goodluck didn’t add up. “You said you’re IRS, but you came armed...and you’ve had combat training,” she added, struggling to focus. She was so scared she couldn’t stop shaking. “I never knew the IRS carried weapons.”

“Field agents are usually armed,” he said. “Didn’t Hank mention I was coming to interview him?”

Seeing her shake her head, he continued. “I was sent to check out some discrepancies in the purchase orders he filed with the Department of Defense.” He pulled out his cover government photo ID, flashed his badge, then quickly placed it all back into his pocket. “If you’re worried, the local police will vouch for me.”

She wanted to trust this man, after all, he’d saved her life, but something was telling her to hold back. “You don’t have to protect me anymore,” she said, noticing how closely he stood. “They’re gone now.”

“For the moment. You’ve seen these people up close and that makes you a threat to them,” he said. “From this point on, expect the unexpected. That’s how you’ll stay alive.”

His bluntness made a chill run up her spine. Agent Goodluck stood straight, shoulders thrown back, a warrior’s stance. The black leather jacket enhanced his powerful build. Everything about him spoke of unwavering self-assurance. She didn’t know much about Kyle Goodluck, but she had a feeling that this was a man who seldom, if ever, second-guessed himself.

“There’s Detective Bowman,” Erin said, seeing a familiar face step out of an unmarked SUV. “I remember him from one of the fund-raisers Hank held for the local police. His brother Daniel’s in the security business, too.”

“I know. They’re my brothers,” Kyle said.

She blinked, surprised by the revelation.

As her gaze shifted to the EMTs still working on Hank, the full impact of what had happened slammed into her again. Men she’d never seen before had tried to kill her and Hank. One of the gunmen had actually died less than ten feet from her. What was worse, she might still be a target.

Tremors ripped through her and she folded her arms around her middle, as if trying to hug herself.

A heartbeat later, Kyle threw his black leather jacket over her shoulders.