They won’t risk shooting if they know we have her.” Two black government SUVs and three police cruisers are now four cars behind us, blue and red lights flashing as they pass slower-moving vehicles. “I hope you’re right,” Ilya says, tightening his grip on the wheel as he glances in the rearview mirror again.
Our clients pay us millions for a reason, and it has nothing to do with our fashion choices. In general, Yan looks like someone who wouldn’t know how to handle a wrench, much less a gun, but he’s one of the most lethal individuals I know-as are the rest of my team. Unlike his twin, he favors a conservative hairstyle and neatly pressed business clothes-his banker disguise, as Ilya calls it. Those guys tailing her were stupid but not completely inept,” Yan says, straightening with a grenade launcher in his hands. “Do you think the Feds know we have her?” Anton glances at the unconscious woman pressed to my side, and I feel an irrational flicker of jealousy as his black gaze roves over Sara’s face, lingering for a moment longer than necessary on her plush pink lips. He’s sitting on the other side of Sara, and he must’ve caught on to my plan, because he’s already rummaging in the large duffel bag we stored under the backseat of our SUV. “We can’t lead them to the airport,” Yan, Ilya’s twin, points out. Let them catch up to us.”Īnton twists around in the front passenger seat, his bearded face incredulous as he grips his M16. Reaching a decision, I tell Ilya, “Slow down. My three teammates and I can handle a high-speed chase just fine, but I can’t endanger Sara that way.
I expected the pursuit, of course-one doesn’t steal a woman guarded by the FBI without consequences-but now that it’s happening, I find myself worried. “Right.” Ignoring the adrenaline pumping in my veins, I tighten my arm around Sara, preventing her head from sliding off my shoulder as Ilya zooms around a slower-moving car. Light from the cars on the other side of the highway bounces off his shaved head, creating the illusion that his skull tattoos are dancing as he glances in the rearview mirror with a worried frown. “They’re gaining on us,” Ilya says as the whine of sirens and the roar of helicopter blades grow louder. Published by Mozaika Publications, an imprint of Mozaika LLC. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.Ĭopyright © 2017 Anna Zaires & Dima ZalesĮxcept for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
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