His head snapped back with a noise that made Davis cringe. Blood streamed from his nose, and he dropped below the surface of the water.
“Are you okay?” Davis demanded, reaching for Leila’s arms, ready to swim her to shore.
She pulled free, sucking in unnatural-sounding breaths. “Yes,” she rasped. “Get him. Don’t want—” She stopped on a fit of coughing.
Davis reached to steady her again, and she slapped at his hand.
He nodded, trusting that if she was strong enough to take down her attacker while he was choking her, she could make it to shore.
Giving her one last glance, he dived underwater. Leila’s attacker was sinking toward the bottom, but still being swept along by the current, too.
Davis adjusted his angle, picking up his speed so he could grab the guy before he ran out of air himself. He wrapped his arms underneath the guy’s armpits, then kicked upward with all his strength, shooting them back toward the surface.
Then it was instinct taking over, the familiar feel of someone needing help in his arms as he swam for shore and dragged the man out of the water. He checked for a heartbeat and heard one, faint but there. But when he checked for breath, there was nothing.
He paused for a moment, took in Leila sitting on the ground, her knees hugged up to her chest, then returned his attention to her attacker. If he’d managed to kill Leila, Davis would have been hard-pressed not to wrap his hands around the guy’s throat. But now he was no threat and he was in trouble.
Davis bent down and gave him mouth-to-mouth until the guy jerked and spit out a stream of water. Davis sat back as the guy coughed and gasped for air, not seeming to know where he was.
Finally he got control of himself and looked up. A shock ran through Davis’s body. He knew this man, recognized him from files Melinda had shown him the other day.
He was connected to BECA.
ANOTHER PARTNER WAS going to die on a mission with him. Another woman he cared about, who had made a name for herself in the Bureau through so many other dangerous cases, got partnered up with him and that was the end.
At least this time, he’d go with her.
Kane tried to snap out of the fatalistic mood, return to his cocky, nothing-scares-me Kane Bullet persona. How many times had he had a gun to his head? And he’d always walked away.
But how to explain this?
He shoved Melinda backward, hard enough to make her stumble on those ridiculous heels and fall to the ground. He held his hand toward her, palm down, telling her to stay there as his contact’s gun shifted up and down from him to Melinda and back again.
“You’re screwing this up for me, man,” he snapped at the guy, taking an aggressive step forward and praying he wasn’t about to get a bullet in the head. Or if he was, that at least Melinda would be able to leap forward fast enough to disarm the guy after he was dead.
Of course, that wouldn’t help her outrun the guy’s backup, which was probably moving in closer right now.
The guy’s gun shifted back to Kane, centered on his forehead. He brought his other hand up to brace it, holding it closer to his own body to make it less likely Kane could rush him. But his curiosity won out. “Screwing what up, exactly?”
“I’ve been using her for months to get close to her dad, get access to a big bank he owns downtown with massive security. Now, you’ve messed it all up for me.”
The guy’s eyes narrowed as he looked Melinda over speculatively.
For a few seconds, Kane thought he’d bought it. Then, the guy let out a humorless laugh. “How stupid do you think I am? You’re a cop.”
He was blown. Kane had been undercover enough times, in enough different situations, to know he wasn’t winning back this guy’s trust. But he’d agreed to this meet too fast, not set up enough precautions. If it had just been him, he probably could have rushed the guy and taken his gun. Then, Kane would have used him as a human shield, banking that the guy’s backup wouldn’t want to shoot their boss in order to kill Kane. But that was dicey with Melinda here, still on the ground in heels there was no way she could run in, and with the guy’s backup closing in fast.
Kane could see them in his peripheral vision every few seconds, as they picked their way through the rubble.
It was time to gamble. “I wouldn’t come any closer!” he called out.
His contact glanced behind him, fast enough that Kane knew it was instinct. But not so fast Kane couldn’t have rushed him. He would have, too, if the backup wasn’t close enough to shoot Melinda while he did it.
Kane was armed, but the gun was at his ankle. Not the most easily accessible spot right now, and there was no good way to tell Melinda where it was without alerting the contact. Even if he leaped on top of her and let himself get shot, there was no way to know what sort of bullets they were using. There was too high a chance the bullets would go through him and kill her anyway.
He cursed her in his mind as he told his contact calmly, “I’m not a cop. But you were right about the fires. That was nasty business. But it wasn’t me. I just figured you’d like that story better than what I really want.” He took another step closer, saw the guy’s eyes widen with surprise and just a touch of fear.
It was exactly what he needed. Keep them guessing, make them wonder why you weren’t afraid when you should be terrified. It had worked for him before. But this was the biggest gamble he’d ever taken. This time, it was more than just his
