Fifty feet away, Six-Five’s voice: “Thirty seconds!”
*******
FIFTEEN SECONDS LATER...
In clothing and gear matching that of their two companions but with bulging duffle bags slung over their shoulders, two people hurried from the back of the bank and into the main lobby.
Spotting them, Six-Five twirled an upturned index finger in the air. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
The newcomers and the short, slim operator headed for the sliding glass doors.
Six-Five backpedaled toward the entrance while keeping the muzzle of his rifle trained on the patrons.
“Freeze!”
Their backs to a commanding, unfamiliar voice, the men with duffle bags stopped.
Six-Five whirled around and brought his weapon to bear on a man already pointing a pistol at him.
“Drop your—”
‘Slim’ rotated right and sent a barrage of gunfire downrange.
Ten 55-grain 5.56mm bullets perforated the man’s chest and neck.
His torso convulsed and twisted clockwise. His trigger finger twitched, and his Glock 43 fired once.
The eleventh 5.56mm projectile sped by his face, exited the building through a window, and struck a woman in the back of her right thigh. She grabbed her leg and went to one knee before collapsing onto the sidewalk.
The man with the pistol fell to the floor.
“Todd!” Her screams rising above those coming from panicked customers, Julia pushed away from the floor and scrambled on hands and knees to her fallen man. “No—no—no,” she slipped her left arm under his head and neck while covering his many bullet wounds with her free hand. “Hold on. You’re,” she quickly shifted her now bloodied palm from one dark splotch on his chest to another, “you’re going to be all right. Just stay with me, baby. Just...”
His arms laying limp on the floor at his sides, his right hand still clutching his Glock pistol, Todd looked up at Julia. “Jewel, I lov—” a gurgling sound accompanying his words, he swallowed.
“Save your strength, sweetie. Help is on the way.”
The robbers bolted out of the bank.
Julia whipped her head toward the other patrons and yelled, “Somebody call an ambulance,” before coming back to her man. “We’re going to get you to a hospital. You’ll see. Everything will—”
“I,” he coughed, and a line of red shot out of his mouth and landed on his chin. “I,” he gasped, “love...”
“It’s okay.” She wiped away the blood. “It’s okay. You’re going to be—”
His eyelids drooped.
“No—no. Stay with me. Stay with me.”
He closed his eyes, “...you.” His head lolled away from her a tick later.
Seeing the life flow out of him, her lower lip quivering, her eyes filling with moisture, Julia brought his face to her chest, and squeezed him. Three whimpers later, she threw her head backward and wailed at the ceiling.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 2
Would You Like Some?
TWO DAYS LATER...
16 MAY—9:11 A.M.
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
Bare chested, and wearing black jeans, Noah Randall twirled a white, short-sleeved dress shirt around his body and slid arms into the covering, concealing the Walther PPQ45 on his right hip.
The apartment’s doorbell rang a second time.
His bare feet slapping the wood flooring, “Keep your pants on,” he approached the front door. “I’m com—” he peeked through the peephole and recoiled a heartbeat later. A frown materialized on his face. What is... He twisted the doorknob and swung open the barrier. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too.”
Randall let a meager smile come and go. “Sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I thought you would have left by now.” A beat. “Hello.”
The visitor went to tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder to see into the residence. “Do you have company?”
He shook his head.
“Would you like some?”
The newly deputized thirty-six-year-old, five-eleven, one-seventy United States Deputy Marshal gave his caller a quick down-and-up, taking in her physical qualities.
Late twenties. Five-ten. Athletic figure. Long blonde hair. Long legs. Under a black leather jacket, full breasts pushed the limits of a white, low-cut blouse.
He lifted his gaze and admired her pose—weight shifted to one foot, fingers shoved into back pockets, head slightly cocked to one side.
Following her own once-over of his handsome features—black, well-manicured eyebrows above brown eyes; dark ‘ten o’clock shadow’ covering a tanned face; sculpted pectoral muscles—she snaked her right hand into his open shirt, touched fingertips to his hairy chest, and nudged him further into the dwelling.
Randall took two steps backward.
Lifting her free hand to cradle the back of his neck, she tested the waters with a soft peck on his lips.
He laid hands on her waist.
Unsure if the gesture was an obstruction or an invitation, she listed away and regarded him. Seeing the same desire in his eyes that burned in hers, she shut the door with an outward turn of a brown hiking boot and went in hard and fast with her next lip-lock.
Randall stripped her of her jacket and blouse, tossed the garments, and mashed his mouth against hers.
She peeled the shirt off his shoulders while driving him backward.
He hit the wall.
She pressed her belly to his.
Their arms entangling, they French-kissed.
Randall slid hands to her waist and tugged on pants that held firm.
She unbuttoned and unzipped her blue jeans.
He pushed the attire down over her backside and cupped bare skin where he had expected to touch underwear. His blood pumping harder, he hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Sensing the interruption, she smiled. “Not what you were exp—”
He continued his oral assault.
She kissed him and pulled back, “Not what you were expecting, was it?” before lunging forward and taking his lower lip into her mouth.
The fingers of his left hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, his other hand fiddling with the clasp on her bra, he scrunched his eyebrows. After what happened a few days ago, I wasn’t expecting anyth— his scowl deepened, and he envisioned his work partner.
Panting, “Oh, Noah,” the blonde woman tilted her head and drew his face deeper into the side of her neck, “I—”
He grasped her shoulders and pushed her upper body away.
Her eyebrows bunching together, she spied him. “What’s wrong?”
“This can’t happen. I made a promise,” he pinched
