Prologue #2
Some of that pain returned, blood warm and sticky against his skin. “Shit. They blew the blast door.”
Sloane huffed, grabbed his arm, angling him back toward the roof. “Not a chance in hell we’re going head-to-head against an army. There’s a window washing rig on the north side. Now that the sniper’s down…”
“You said I only caught him in the shoulder. That’s not down.”
“I doubt he’s as stubborn as you, because a lesser man would still be on his ass at the top of the stairs.”
Nick tripped along beside her, doing his best to carry most of his weight. “If there’re more…”
“Then, I’ll deal with them. But we can’t afford a direct confrontation, and you know it.”
They hit the doorway, Sloane still shouldering half his weight, her carbine sweeping the area as she helped him across to the far side, glanced over the edge.
“It’s a floor down. We’ll have to drop onto it.” She waved Kessler over. “You first.”
He shook his head, tried to back away, but she simply grabbed his arm, manhandled him to the edge.
He whined about missing the rig, dying, as Sloane eased him down, holding his weight before letting him fall.
The unit rocked, ropes creaking from the sudden strain, but it held, swinging in the breeze as Kessler cowered near the end.
Sloane motioned to Nick. “You’re next, sunshine.”
He shook his head. “You go. In case I need you to stop me from continuing down.”
She eyed him, cursed. “I knew you were hurt worse than you were letting on. Fine, just, don’t screw me over by staying on the roof.”
“Do you seriously think I’d leave you alone to face this?”
“No. But you’d definitely stay up here if you thought it was the only way to keep everyone else alive.”
He waved her on, watching as she dropped gracefully to the narrow ledge, barely making the rig shake. He waited until she’d shifted to the right, then climbed over the edge, holding on with his good arm before letting go — crashing onto the surface below.
He hit hard, breath wheezing out, everything burning bright as the scenery swam, the distant lights blurring into a yellow smear.
Sloane didn’t waste any time coddling him, just grabbed the line, got the whole rig screaming down. Shouts rose above them, the wind swinging the scaffolding sideways as they hit the halfway point, kept going.
Nick stared at the roofline, rifle at the ready, stomach roiling from the motion. Kessler squatted beside him, fingers white knuckled around the metal rails, chanting something under his breath.
The ropes creaked as the rig shuddered to a halt, one side slightly lower. Sloane crouched beside him, gaze scanning the area before centering on him.
She sighed. “This is as far as the rig goes. We’ll have to rope down the last two flights.”
Nick chuckled. “Of course, we do… shit, get down.”
He rolled to get a clear sightline as heads popped out along the roofline, their silhouettes black against the indigo sky. He didn’t wait, just ran through a full magazine as he sprayed the ledge, kept the men back while Sloane readied a line.
Nick stumbled to his feet, changed the magazine, then unleashed a few more trigger pulls before leaning in close to Sloane. “You both go together. I’ll be right behind you.”
Sloane scoffed. “How the hell are you gonna rope down with only one good arm?”
“I’ll be fine, but we can’t leave Kessler alone, and as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t hold him and the rope.”
She huffed, fired off a few rounds when more heads appeared above them before grunting. “I swear to god, Nick, if you get yourself killed, I’ll climb back up and kill you all over again.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
Sloane grumbled under her breath, readied the rope, then swung over the rail, Kessler holding onto her with a death grip.
She coughed, repositioned one arm, then started down, slipping the last several feet.
She shifted over, covered the roofline while Nick retrieved the rope, wrapped one arm around it.
Easing off the edge without crashing all the way to the alleyway damn near killed him, until his strength waned and he hit the cobblestone with a resounding thud. Pain flared through his chest, more blood washing down his back.
Bullets sprayed the rig above them, sparks scything across the metal as a few ricochets bounced off the surrounding brickwork.
Sloane snagged his vest, heaved him onto his feet, pushing him to get him moving.
He stumbled along the alley, clipping two tangos when they stepped around the corner, weapons at a low ready.
His team reached the exfil van amidst a volley of gunfire, more men breaching the alley behind them. Sloane tossed Kessler in the back, then all but shoved Nick’s ass into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel and peeling out.
The tires chirped on the pavement, a few puffs of smoke coughing out as she hit the gas, swerved onto the street, then gunned it.
The scenery passed in a hazy blur, a black SUV pulling in behind them, a series of dull thumps hitting the ass end of the vehicle.
Nick roused enough to lean out the window, plant a couple rounds in the trailing SUV’s radiator before Sloane slewed across two lanes, headed for the airport.
Voices sounded in the distance, shapes moving in and out of his field of view before he blinked, coming to in the back of a large plane. Sloane hovered above him, handing supplies to some guy in a jumpsuit.
The man shook his head, tapped a syringe, then slid it into an IV port Nick hadn’t realized had been hooked up to his arm. “I gotta ask, Colter. Is there any mission where you don’t end up bleeding?”
Nick grunted, eyes rolling a bit at the renewed pain. “You can’t be effective if you’re afraid of dying.”
“You’re just lucky that whoever shot you, didn’t catch you two inches to the right. Or that Hart didn’t take the scenic route. Either one, and you would have been beyond saving.”
Nick smiled, coughed, gaze sliding to Sloane. “She already thinks that.”
The medic grinned. “Maybe you should take that to heart. Reassess.”
Nick merely nodded, grabbing Sloane’s hand before she could slink away. “Kessler?”
She sighed. “On board. He’ll be debriefed once we’re back in Virginia.”
“Hooyah.”
She laughed. “You know you’re the only one who says that military crap, right?”
He held firm when she looked as if she wanted to pull away. “Thanks for dragging my ass in from the van.”
Her chin quivered. Not much, but he’d spent his life noticing minute details, and he knew her better than anyone. “You know I hate owing you. Figured it evened the score a bit.”
“Still…”
She squeezed his hand, shifted, then leaned in close. “Rest. We’ll… talk once you’re stronger.”
He frowned. “That sounds… serious.”
“That’s because it is. You… Me… This…” She blew out a harsh breath. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Nick stared up at his apartment building, the late evening rain ticking off Sloane’s windshield. They’d made it back in decent time, spent a few hours debriefing before he’d been ordered home on medical leave pending approval for him to return to duty.
Sloane hadn’t said a word since they’d left Langley, her wipers tapping out a beat as she drove him across town, parked in front of his place.
The chassis rocked as she stepped out, slammed the door, then made her way around to his side.
He managed to stumble out of the vehicle without falling, hating the fact he needed her help to walk to the entrance, then up the three flights to his suite.
The door creaked open, his footsteps heavy as she angled him toward the sofa, all but dropping him onto the cushions. She detoured to his kitchen, grabbed him some water and a bag of nacho chips before standing in front of him, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.
Nick sighed, tossed his cell on the coffee table as he gathered his courage. “Whatever’s on your mind, Sloane, just spit it out. We both know small talk’s not your thing.”
She tapped her foot against the floor, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “You realize bullets aren’t contractual obligations, right?”
“You say that like I get shot on every mission.”
“Not every mission. Just the ones where there’re men with guns.”
“I can’t do my job if I’m not willing to make the tough calls.”
“Is that what you think you’re doing? Making the tough calls? Because it looks more like you have a death wish, to me.”
“Keeping you from getting shot isn’t a death wish.”
“I’m not talking about you saving my life.
I’m talking about all the other times you take a round because it seems like a good idea.
” She huffed, the rough breath feathering the wispy auburn hairs around her face.
“This job’s a meat grinder, and you keep tossing yourself into the blades without a second’s pause.
But sooner or later, you’re gonna be on the wrong side of a few inches. ”
She shuffled forward — the armor she kept around her like a shield cracking slightly. “That Ranger buddy out in Oregon — the one who keeps trying to recruit you. Bodie. Maybe hear him out.”
Nick straightened, biting back a curse as pain throbbed through his shoulder. “You trying to get rid of me?”
“I can’t keep doing this, Nick. Can’t be the one out there with you when your luck finally runs out. Be the reason…”
She took a few steps back, voice thick, eyes glassy. He stumbled to his feet, ignoring the irate huff she tossed at him as he tripped his way over to her, cornered her against the door.
She bit her lip, looking angry and sad and so damn beautiful it made his chest hurt. “Nick…”
“Back in the plane, you said we needed to talk.” He braced his left forearm against the wall. “Is that what you wanted to say? That you’re bailing on me?”
Her lips pursed, hints of red blooming on her cheeks. “I’m not bailing. I’m making a strategic retreat before I have to bring you back in a body bag.”
“Still breathing.”
“But for how long?”
He scowled. “This is who I am. Who I’ve always been.”
“No, it’s who you became after that mission nearly killed you five years ago.” She brushed her thumb along his jaw. “And thinking you’ve got this under control is an illusion that’s gonna drive you into an early grave.”
Nick grunted, staggered halfway back to the couch. “I’m not sure what you want from me. I thought…” He coughed around the lump in his throat before pushing through. “I thought things had shifted between us. Or was that just an illusion, too?”
Sloane inhaled, a few tears slipping down her face before she swiped at them. “Why do you think I’m so upset? Things have changed, but…”
“But what, exactly?”
She pushed off the wall, took a step closer. “I need the version of you who takes a bullet to protect the people you lov—” She cut off for a moment. Breathed. “Not the man who jumps in front because he’s trying to fill a void. Because he’s so damn empty inside, he’s looking for a way out.”
“I didn’t shove you out of the way for the greater good, sweetheart.”
Her left eye twitched at the endearment, a few more tears breaking free. One of the few times he’d ever seen her cry. “I know. But what about the next mission? And the one after that?”
“I’m not the only one who puts their life on the line. Who could have been killed.”
“I’m not saying…” Her head bowed forward, shoulders drooping.
“Deputy Director Hill asked me to be part of a DIA joint task force for the next couple months, effective immediately. It’s mostly cyber work but…
” She sighed, the sound heavy. Final. “I could use a break from the field if I’m being honest.”
His stomach dropped, all the warmth he’d been feeling since admitting he was falling for her turning to ice. “Guess that answers all my questions.”
“Nick, I…” She swallowed, coughed, then opened the door, stopping on the threshold as she glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Just think about what I said before there really isn’t anything left of you to save.”
He waited until the door had nearly closed before muttering the truth he’d been hiding since Bodie had first asked him to join Raven’s Security. “If I go to Oregon, I’ll be three thousand miles away. I don’t see how that solves anything.”
She inched the door back open, leaned against it. “Or maybe, it’s the first step in saving us both.” She nodded at him. “Don’t forget to take those antibiotics.”
Nick collapsed on the couch, their argument playing over in his head.
The look in her eyes, the desperate tone in her voice — the unforgiving truth he’d been trying not to face.
He mulled it over, wondering if he’d lost or won, when his cell rang, Bodie’s name flashing on the screen like a beacon.
And for the first time since his buddy had offered him a job, he saw it for what it was — a lifeline.
One he wasn’t sure he could pass up anymore.