2. Wren
WREN
Rough bricks scraped my skin as I edged through a narrow part of the alley.
Avoiding the dumpster to my left that reeked of decaying filth, I hugged the wall and inched along.
The course exterior of the building made my skin raw.
My hair snagged on the corners of the bare brickwork, but I ignored the pain. I dismissed the agony.
Fickle, minor discomforts didn’t matter. They couldn’t. Not when that man was stalking me through the city.
I dared to look over my shoulder as I cut through this slimmer side of the dumpster next to the wall.
Fuck.
He was still there, following me.
I didn’t need to look over my shoulder and check.
I felt it.
I felt the searing pressure of his attention on me.
Scampering through the alley like this, I couldn’t have been more like a pathetic little mouse, hurrying and trying to be as small as possible to slip away.
But it didn’t matter if I ran ahead. It didn’t make a difference if I hid and twisted around objects in this crappy alley of garbage chutes, dumpsters, and stacked construction apparatuses. Piles of empty pallets weren’t going to offer me camouflage to save me.
He’s still there.
Like he had a homing device, a magnetic tether to me, that dark, tall shadow of a man stayed on my heels.
I forced a hard swallow, trying my damnedest not to panic, not to let the fear claw up my throat and literally choke me into some locked-down status of immobility.
I had to stay running and pray I could find some avenue to rush down and lose him.
Staying still seemed stupid. The fight-or-flight instinct in me screamed at me to sprint out of here. But in the back of my mind, that nagging, insistent voice of anger bubbled up and distracted me.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
That it did meant something far more than my having a shitty night of luck in the city where Lady Luck was supposed to rule supreme.
I’d just been transferred to the Las Vegas department for the FBI. My first day was only two days ago. Tonight was intended to be my foray into doing serious detective work.
A simple stakeout, my ass.
My supervisor was either full of shit or oblivious. Agent Tony Smithson had explained this assignment like it was a piece of cake. Nothing hard. Just a run-of-the-mill exercise of keeping an eye on what the members of that financial meeting had to do and say.
I tripped over a strip of loose gravel, left there from whatever utility project had happened last. Turning back to look over my shoulder cost me precious seconds that I didn’t have to lose, but I caught myself against the unforgiving scrape of the wall again.
Shit. That burns.
I had to focus. I had to get a hold of this terror clutching at me. And I had to save the self-recrimination and what the hell was that about? kind of self-reflection for later.
All I had to do now was evade this huge man following me, someone who had taken up pursuit as soon as that shot was fired.
Well, one of the shots.
I’d noticed the activity down on the street.
Those Mafia men were coming in, and I saw the street performer chick fall back against the wall, her face a bloody mess.
It clicked instantly that a sniper from across the alleyway had taken a shot at them, but by the time I’d lifted my face to peer at where the sniper was, another shot had been fired.
At me.
I’d ducked and worried that a second gunman was firing at the elite politicians, business owners, and wealthy entrepreneurs who were scheduled to meet there tonight. I’d been posed, ready to listen in from that fire escape nook. But that hadn’t lasted.
I checked again for the man following me.
He was still there, closer now.
Dammit!
I picked up my pace, desperate to get away.
The first night on the job as a federal agent and I’d been shot at—maybe—and someone from the Mob was stalking me.
If it made any sense, I couldn’t get away with being so frantic about how quickly it had all spun out of control.
I wasn’t sure that I’d ever been in any control.
I’d come just to watch a politician who was on the agency’s radar.
Rico Johnson, an ass-kisser of an up-and-coming wannabe lawman.
A classic nepo baby, wanting to campaign on his daddy’s dollar and swear to the citizens of the city that he’d serve them well.
That was what Agent Smithson told me.
To come and watch.
Get a feel for the situation.
Let me get my feet wet on what they were working on.
I’d worked for another department in the agency, but this was my first time in the field as a full-fledged agent just recently promoted to field work.
A full-fledged solo agent.
I cringed at the reminder that I was out here on my own.
As a rookie, almost. Without any guidance or backup.
Smithson’s explanation to his protégé, Brayden Hunton, a junior agent assistant who’d asked if anyone would come with me, was that I didn’t need backup for just watching a politician who had ties with the Cartel.
A stakeout was supposed to be a passive activity to investigate Rico Johnson after the agency’s suspicions that he was paying the Cartel for dirty deeds.
That wasn’t what happened, though. It wasn’t just a stakeout. I was actively running for my life, determined not to be caught by whoever was chasing me.
I looked again. The glow of his phone screen didn’t illuminate his face, but I caught a glimpse of a dark beard. Maybe a ponytail as he looked down. A suit. And the glint of metal in his hand that wasn’t holding the phone.
A gun.
Fear kicked in hotter and urged me to run.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I can’t let this be the end.
This isn’t how I’m supposed to die.
Chased down a dirty, grimy alley. Alone.
You’ve done this.
You’ve survived this shit before.
While I’d never been pursued by a criminal mobster, I did have experience with the grimier side of life. I knew what it was like to hide in alleys, hanging out by the “good” dumpsters near restaurants that would put out “good” scraps.
When my mother was killed and I was left with no one at the ripe age of sixteen, I made it work. I survived.
This wasn’t the first time I’d run down an alley like this, but it was the first time I’d done so with a killer chasing me.
If that’s what he is.
Darting my gaze around and seeking a hiding spot, I dismissed that curiosity again.
If he was?
Normal, law-abiding citizens didn’t stroll down alleyways and prey on single women for shits and giggles. If he was coming from where that meeting was supposed to take place, he was armed. He was dangerous.
Another glance over my shoulder had me wincing.
He was closer.
Not much of a buffer existed between us, and I damned him all over again for being so tall, competing with the stride I could try to aim for as someone a full head shorter than him.
Whoever he was, I couldn’t let him get me. I couldn’t be caught and questioned. Not only because I was an agent of the law but because I wouldn’t even know what the hell to say!
Hurrying to find a way out through this dark alley, on my own, I couldn’t escape this confusion that clogged my mind.
I didn’t know why those shots were fired. I wasn’t confident about what I could tell from one shot being aimed at me.
Assessing the situation was a vital first step to any complication in a case.
This was basic stuff.
Assess. Ascertain. And act.
That alliterative phrase had been drilled into me during my time at training.
The protocols that we learned well before we graduated and could apply for vacancies in fieldwork. I wasn’t a seasoned agent with decades of experience like Smithson. But I also wasn’t a young golden retriever kind of puppy that Brayden was, either.
Come on. Focus.
I had to think with my brain, not my emotions. They merged into a toxic blend of trepidation and desperation. But I couldn’t do that.
You know better.
Think, Wren.
Think and use your brain. Keep your cool and stay calm.
There’s a way out of this.
There always is.
I couldn’t outrun this brute who followed me, so I had to find a way to hide or slip away without him detecting my subterfuge.
I was armed, but I had to make sure that I could find an advantageous angle to fire at him and not miss.
In short, it seemed hopeless.
Be logical.
Don’t let the fear get to you.
Assess. Ascertain. And act.
No matter how many times I rehearsed in my mind what I should do, it seemed impossible to fantasize about how things turned in my favor.
I was cornered.
Stalked.
And I couldn’t rely on anything that I’d experienced or studied in my law enforcement degree or the camp and trainings I’d endured for the agency.
Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Was I set up?
That was the only thing that hit me with the truth.
That was all that made sense.
This was never going to be a simple stakeout to spy on Rico Johnson.
I was caught in something bigger, and I couldn’t begin to analyze what could come next.
Not death. That had better not come next for me.
I swallowed hard, clinging to that basic principle.
The goal would always be to survive.
Not tonight.
I couldn’t die. I had too much to do, too many things I could give back to society.
I’d only just started my fieldwork in the career I always wanted to have.
My mom was a cop, killed in a drive-by. I had her legacy to uphold, serving the community and ridding the world of bad people.
My dad, who had never even wanted to meet me, had been a detective for the state.
I had his blood in my veins too, making me a force of nature despite my predicament.
This was what I’d trained for. What I wanted to do.
But as the footsteps of my stalker sounded closer, I couldn’t even think up a semblance of a pep talk.
Closer yet.
His shoes hit the pavement at a faster pace, like he was rushing at me.
Fuck.
I need to get out of here.
Buildings were jammed too close together. Cars were blocking any intersecting paths away. He was so close that even if I tried to run, he’d know which way to go.
I turned, my heart tripping and racing at double speed.
As I tore my focus from what waited ahead of me, I was disoriented, my balance off.
He’s right there!
Yards separated us. He was closing in. Cornering me. Trapping me.
Shadows covered his face. The darkness blurred all details.
I dropped into a sprint. Pumping my arms and forcing my legs to go with an open stride, I gritted my teeth and made one last attempt to flee.
Without a word, he lunged at me, tackling me and taking me to the ground from behind.
No!