His eyes slid right over me, where I held in the shadow of the dumpster.
It was getting closer to decision time. What was I going to do?
How far away were the cops?
While this shadow walking was a massive tool in my spy craft toolbox, it took enormous concentration. It was hard to compartmentalize, holding both the shadow and thinking strategically about what needed to happen.
All three of them glanced over at the yellow abomination of a car.
“Come on now.” The guy with the blue T-shirt took two long strides in the waitress’s direction, reaching down to her. “Let’s go for a ride.”
She slapped his hand away and cowered behind her garbage bags like a toddler behind her blankie.
“Throw her over your shoulder,” Blue T-shirt ordered the guy he’d called Benji.
“The car’s too far for me to carry her,” Benji whined.
“Go git it,” Blue said as if Benji was the dolt of his three-man crew. “Drive over here, and we’ll just shove her in.”
Benji pulled a set of car keys from his pocket.
If I let him get over to their car before I acted, it would be one less adversary, should I have to get in the mix.
“No,” the woman wailed out. The one word held, rising in volume as it slid up the scale.
Good job! That should bring out some curious eyes if anyone was near that back door.
Someone who could help.
A chef with a butcher knife or cast-iron skillet…
I didn’t want it to be me. That would make my next step in this FBI task harder. I wouldn’t blend in later if I stepped into this mess now.
I’m not a superhero, I reminded myself, again.
These were three beefy guys with steel-toed boots. They obviously enjoyed hurting women and weren’t afraid to commit a crime.
And too, it was highly plausible that if I stepped in, the men would still be successful at what they’d determined to do, then her fate could also become mine.
Chapter Six
A galloping heart pumped adrenaline through my system. Sweat slicked my skin. I was having trouble maintaining my breath—a crucial component to retaining my shadow walking protection.
I definitely didn’t want to be spotted before I chose to be seen.
One thing I knew—cops coming or no cops coming—if the men shoved this woman in their car, things would turn very badly for her. The chances of getting her out of that situation unharmed were slim to none.
Not that I’d allow them to take this woman without somehow trying to protect her.
This so totally sucked.
Benji took off at a jog toward their vehicle.
Lizard grinned like a mad man.
Blue reached for the woman’s wrist, dragging her toward him.
She pressed her hips down to the ground. Hoisted a few inches up, her feet made odd duck-like paddles toward him to keep from tipping over.
If she faceplanted, she was done.
There were very few moves that could get you up and safe if you were face down with weight at the small of your back. Even with my experience and training, that was the position I called “mercy” because the attacker’s benevolence was really the only thing that allowed someone to survive.
Still, she gripped the garbage bags.
Did she even know she was doing that?
Terror made the brain do odd, short-circuity things.
Let go of the darned garbage! I sent her thought commands.
As she opened her mouth in what looked like it might form a scream, Blue yanked her arm, pulling her to her feet, and in a single, almost dancerly move, he spun her into him, slapping a hand across her mouth.
Her eyes stretched wide and unblinking. Her forehead was etched with a lattice of frown lines. She snorted like a bull as she tried to drag enough oxygen up through her nostrils and exhale.
Her limbic system was obviously lit on fire.
Mine was getting there, too.
There was no way I was letting these men push that woman into their car. I no longer cared about consequences. The evil in front of me took precedence over the evil I was supposed to be stalking.
Blue wrapped his free arm around the woman’s waist and lifted her off her feet. His lips were pressing kisses onto the woman’s neck.
Benji had reached the car.
Lizard had circled in front of me, away from the waitress’s flailing legs.
Let. The. Garbage. Go. Already! I pushed out the thought command. It had zero effect.
Okay, with Benji at the car, this looked like the best scenario I would get.
Dropping the shadow walking technique, I took a step forward, using my momentum to raise my leg in a front kick that I aimed between Lizard’s legs, lifting him off the ground as I aimed for the sky.
He shrieked out in high-pitched horror of pain and surprise, grabbing at his crotch.
Bent over, gasping, he gave me the perfect target for a push kick. I tugged my knee into my chest. Leaning backward, I thrust out to catch him in the ass.
His arms flew wide and flailing against the momentum of my attack.
He skidded face-first into the black top.
Blue spun toward me. His face red, eyes bulging with rage. He tossed the waitress to the ground with such vehemence that she rolled with her bags and lay there, stunned.
Blue clapped his hands together, a body language signal of impending violence.
There were two things I needed to be hyper-aware of—avoiding blows to my head and Lizard grabbing at my legs. Their steel-toed boots could be lethal in a fight.
Lizard was still clutching at his crotch, eyes streaming, gasping for air.
“Looks
