Play Nice (5 page)

“Anna, what the hell is going on?” Shelli asked again, her voice shaky. The dog whimpered in her arms.

“Stay where you are,” Anna shouted back. “Don’t move, just stay down.”

She picked a spot on the left side of the room, near the front door, and hurled the paperweight toward the window. It crashed through, bouncing off the sidewalk. A second later gunfire sprayed the window and Anna lunged to the right, her fingers curling around the strap of her handbag, a split second before the shooter redirected her way. She hit the cover of the desk just as a bullet took out the chunk of beige carpet where she’d been.

She leaned her head against the counter, taking one quick breath, then two as she rummaged in her purse for her weapon. An odd sense of calm washed over her when her fingers clamped around the cool metal, lifted it, held it almost like an extension of her hand. She’d let it lie dormant in her purse for years, never touching it, but knowing it was there, loaded, just in case.

Just in case of today.

Shelli gasped when she saw it, shrinking even farther back under the desk. “Jesus Christ, Anna, what the hell is going on here?”

Anna didn’t answer. She didn’t have time to. She knew these weren’t the kind of men to play games. They’d be closing in soon. Once the element of surprise was gone, they would rely on time. They must know as well as she did that they weren’t in the remote regions of Bosnia anymore; the SFPD would be on scene in a matter of minutes. They had to get to her before then.

Which meant she had to run.

She wrapped both hands around the gun, took a deep breath, then stood up, launching herself vertical like a jack-in-the-box as she fired off half a dozen rounds through the nonexistent front window. She quickly dropped back down to a crouch, listening for the pause as they took cover themselves, then returned fire.

It came swift and hard. Faster than she’d hoped, spraying the back wall of the office, raining pieces of plaster down on her.

Shit.

Fully automatics, AK-74s if she had to guess. How many of them were there? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was she had to get the hell out of there. Without an arsenal of her own, she was a sitting duck.

Anna bit the inside of her cheek, panic rising as, one by one, she eliminated escape options.

The gunmen shot three rounds into the computer on Shelli’s desk, the monitor exploding with a pop that sent sparks flying into the worn carpet. Shelli screamed. Anna ducked, covering her head with her arms and turning away.

Just in time to see the back door fly open.

A man dressed in all black entered the room, a handgun held tight to his body. He took two steps into the room, then ducked behind a column as gunfire erupted again.

Anna’s heart froze.

Trapped.

She trained her gun in his direction, mentally counting how many rounds she had left. Eight. She had eight shots left. Enough. She held the gun straight-armed in front of her and shot off three rounds into the column at head level.

She heard him swear, diving backward for cover. He returned fire, and Anna ducked down, narrowly missing a bullet as it bounced off the desk chair. Anna retaliated, shooting off four more shots his way, before ducking back down behind cover. Out of the corner of her eye the man darted across the room toward her, hailing more fire from the front of the office.

She turned her gun on him.

But he was faster, grabbing her by the wrist and twisting her arm behind her until she cried out, her hand involuntarily releasing her weapon with a sickening thud to the floor.

“Anna!” Shelli cried out, her voice high with hysteria.

Anna struggled. But the man’s grip was tight. It was like struggling against steel, completely unyielding. There was nowhere to go. He shoved her up against the wall, his hard body pinning her there, pressing into her back. His mouth ground up against her ear, the stubble on his chin scraping her cheek. She tried to turn away, but there was no space left to move.

“There are at least two in front, one down in back.” His voice was deep, low, and direct, demanding attention. “I’ll provide cover. You grab the girl and go out the back.”

Anna felt her breath hitch. He would provide cover?

Who was this guy?

Anna nodded in agreement. What choice did she have? Instantly she felt the pressure on her back let up as he slid away from her. Slowly. As if the lack of trust was mutual. He paused to pick up her gun from the floor, slipping it into the waistband of his own pants.

Anna didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Shelli by the arm, hauling her out from under the desk. Her heart pounded, her legs antsy, ready to spring into action.

“Go,” the man commanded. “Now!”

He stood, shooting toward the front of the shelter. Anna didn’t waste time, shoving Shelli ahead of her and running through the backdoor, expecting the fiery pain of a gunshot wound to erupt along her back at any second.

Deafening shots ripped through the room, plaster flying off the walls on either side of them as the gunmen returned fire. Their would-be savior continued shooting, sending round after round into the front window until she heard the sickening click of his gun signaling he was out of ammo.

Then he was behind her, urging her forward, past the kennels of dogs barking, cats howling, all whipped into a frenzy over the commotion.

“Go!” he shouted again, punctuated by a swift shove to the small of her back. She stumbled but kept moving forward, all the while listening to Shelli’s steady chorus of “Ohshitohshitohshit,” as she clutched the terrier to her chest like a security blanket.

They hit the backdoor, and Anna plowed straight into Shelli’s back as she stopped short and let out a strangled cry.

A man in black sweats and a wool cap lay on the pavement just outside the door. A red bullet hole dotted his forehead, eyes staring toward the sky, open and unseeing.

Anna took one look and felt her insides go numb. A hollow yet jarringly familiar feeling. Years faded before her vision, and she was transported back in time. How many times had she seen this same scene?

“Move. Now!” The man shoved her forward again.

Adrenaline coursed through her limbs, the panic she’d felt moments earlier converted into trained reflexes. She grabbed Shelli, who was still making gurgling sounds in the back of her throat, and pushed her down the narrow back alley running the length of the building.

Reluctantly, Shelli complied, the two of them covering the length of the block, stumbling over chunks of uneven asphalt, navigating around the teeming dumpsters. Anna felt the man close behind, heard his feet pounding as the gunfire across the street ceased. They knew she wasn’t in the building anymore. They’d be on the move, one step behind her.

The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, moving toward them as the alleyway dead-ended against a metal fence at the back of an Indian restaurant. Smells of warm naan bread and curry hit her nostrils as the man shoved both women up against the fence, behind a blue dumpster. He moved in front of them, flattening himself along the grimy metal side as his eyes scanned for an exit.

It was the first time Anna had gotten a chance to really look at him. A broad, sturdy build filled out his black cargo pants and matching T-shirt. His eyes were still as dark as they had been last night, though the stubble along his jaw had grown. The man from the Laundromat. Dade.

She sucked in her cheeks, her stomach knotting, churning over the possibilities.

Who was this guy?

He turned to Shelli, his voice low and commanding. “See the backdoor of that restaurant?”

She nodded, her teeth chattering as she clutched the shaking dog to her.

“I want you to run to it as fast as you can, then wait inside for the police to come. Got it?”

Shelli shot a wary look at Anna before nodding again, this time more slowly.

Anna took a step forward.

“No. Not you.” Dade turned to her, meeting her gaze. “Just her.”

Shelli opened her mouth to protest, but didn’t get the chance as he shoved her forward hard enough to make her stumble. She recovered quickly, doing as she was told, racing for the backdoor.

Anna prayed it wasn’t locked, prayed Shelli made it, prayed they wouldn’t come looking for the redhead as long as she separated from Anna.

She could hear Shelli’s breath echoing off the sides of the alley as she hit the door, tugging at the metal handle. It opened easily, and Anna let out a long sigh as the redhead slipped inside.

As soon as the door closed gunfire erupted down the block.

Anna felt Dade’s body stiffen beside her, his hand clamping around her arm, shoving her back into the fence until the metal diamonds bit into her skin.

“Go. Over the fence,” he whispered.

She did, quickly hitching one foot over the other as she scaled the wall, dropping down the other side just a step before Dade launched himself over in one swift motion.

Again, he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, propelling her north, away from the shelter, down a side street lined with fast food and mom-and-pop bodegas. He slowed to a quick jog, staying close to the cars parked on the street for cover. Every muscle in Anna’s body strained for the shout of gunfire behind them.

Halfway down the block, he stopped, pulled out a pair of keys and remotely unlocked a black SUV. He opened the driver’s side door, shoving her in ahead of him, over the console. He slid behind the wheel, pulled away from the curb, his tires screeching as he made an illegal U-turn, rushing against traffic in the opposite direction. Horns blared and middle fingers raised as they careened down the street.

They made it only four car lengths before shots ripped into the right side of the car. Anna ducked, covering her head. Dade swerved left, cutting across two lanes to make a sharp turn the wrong way onto a one-way street, jumping over the curb, narrowly avoiding a VW head on. He made another left at the end of the block, then a sharp right, threatening to tip the SUV as it bounded onto Sunset.

Another three blocks and two turns later, Anna finally remembered to breathe. The gunfire had ceased, the unseen assailants silent. Anna scanned the rearview mirror for any sign they were being followed.

Behind them sat a pickup with a landscaping advertisement painted on the side. Beside him, a minivan. To their right, a yellow sports car driven by a guy chatting into a Bluetooth. No bullets, no nefarious-looking vehicles. Just the usual rush of San Francisco traffic.

Anna turned her attention to Dade in the seat beside her. His jaw was clenched, his features seemingly set in stone. Eyes straight ahead, hands gripped tightly against the steering wheel, every muscle in his body flexed, poised for action. A far cry from the warm, easy persona he’d displayed last night.

He knew how to handle a gun. Gave orders like he expected to be obeyed. He’d clearly been trained for action. Military? CIA? He didn’t have the least hint of an accent; she pegged him as American. But that was all she could know for sure.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his eyes never left the windshield.

“I told you. Nick Dade.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

His jaw flinched, and he made a screaming right turn. Anna sucked in a breath, fearing the vehicle would rise on two tires.

“You’re not some tourist visiting a friend.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a chance encounter last night in the Laundromat.”

“No.”

“What were you doing at the shelter?”

Silence. His jaw flinched again, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him.

“You killed that man behind the shelter, didn’t you?”

Again he was slow to respond. When he did, it was just the slightest nod of his head.

While she’d already known the answer, the fact that he didn’t even try to deny murdering a man left a familiar chill in her bones.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He turned to look at her for the first time, his eyes so dark they were black pools, hooded, unreadable.

A slow shake of his head was his only answer.

Anna swallowed, white knuckling the armrest as he took another turn.

“Where are we going?”

“Your apartment.”

Her head whipped around. “
My
apartment? Why?”

“You’ve been made. They’re going to expect you to leave town. But if they’ve done their homework, they know you won’t leave without your dog.”

Lenny!

Anna’s heart leapt into her throat and tears immediately sprang behind her eyes. Shit! She’d forgotten all about him. He was just a dumb animal. The thought of anything happening to him …

She sniffed loudly, pushing back the tears, grasping again for the numb feeling that had been her savior, her safety, for so long.

She took a long breath. Then another.