Tactical Rescue. Maggie K. Black

      Ivan snapped something at Dmitry. Dmitry shouted back. In an instant, both men were arguing so loudly they were almost bellowing.

      Zack tilted his head and leaned toward Rebecca. “Trust me, okay? Do whatever I say to do. Without question.”

      “No bribe!” Ivan shouted in English. “No money. No deal. No bribe. We’re taking her now.” He pointed one finger at Rebecca. “You. Girlie. Hands up. Come here, now.”

      She nearly laughed. Did these men not see the gun Zack had trained at their heads? True, it was two guns against one, but it was not as if Zack was about to let them drive off with her.

      “Okay, okay.” Zack lowered his gun and forced an artificial chuckle from this throat.

      What? she nearly screamed inside her own head.

      Ivan’s snarl turned into a smirk. “You’re just going to give us the girl?”

      Zack shrugged. “What can I say? Like I said, she is clumsy. She will take two steps, trip over her own feet and fall down.”

      Ivan snapped something to Dmitry.

      “No, no, don’t shoot me, Dmitry!” Zack raised his hands. “You shoot me. I shoot you. Ivan here gets the girl and the money.”

      There was a long pause. Wind brushed the trees. Ivan shifted his feet. Zack stood firm on the pavement.

      Zack turned to Rebecca. “Go around to the passenger’s-side door. I’ll stay here with this man and we’ll work things out.”

      Her head shook. Tears were forming in her eyes. “If I get into their van, they’ll kill me.”

      Firm gray eyes cut at Rebecca. “Passenger side. Go.”

      * * *

      Zack could feel his heart beating in his chest, slow and steady.

      He could sense Rebecca beside him without even looking her way. He knew how she was standing and how her limbs were moving. He knew exactly how much space was between their two bodies. He could feel the fear rolling off her shoulders like waves. He could hear the ragged, desperate sound of her breathing and wished there was a way he could still it.

      Trust me, Becs. Please. I know what I’m doing. I know who these men are, how they think and how to keep you safe. Just walk around to the passenger side of the van, take two steps and hit the ground.

      What were two members of Black Talon, a violent Eastern European crime syndicate, even doing in Canada? There’d been rumors recently of an internal power struggle within Black Talon. Members killing other members for control of the syndicate. What was more worrying was that both Canadian intelligence and weapons kept turning up in the hands of one faction. His special ops unit had recently been tasked with trying to determine, without any real leads, where the leak was coming from. It was possible these two men were former members who’d gotten ahold of forged immigration documents from the same source, come to North America and turned mercenaries for hire. But the hackles on the back of his neck, and the way they’d responded to his questions about their boss, made him suspect they were the real deal.

      Did they suspect he was Canadian military? He’d tried to throw them off by calling them “Dmitry” and “Ivan” as if he thought the tattoos were the men’s real names, as opposed to the names of their first confirmed kills.

      All Zack was waiting for now was for Rebecca to get herself out of harm’s way. Then he could rush Ivan and safely disarm him. After that he’d take out Dmitry.

      But Rebecca wasn’t moving. Had she not understood his signal? Did his directions confuse her? True, they hadn’t seen each other in years. But they used to be so tight it was as though they could read each other’s thoughts. The soldier in Zack told him that when the hostage one was rescuing became a liability, it was important to focus on the key mission objective above all else.

      Yet something in his heart was stopping him from thinking of Rebecca as a mere “hostage” or “objective.” Rebecca was different. Somehow. Keeping her safe mattered to him. But he didn’t have time to stand around asking himself how or why. If she didn’t move soon, he’d have no choice but to treat her like any other uncooperative hostage he was trying to rescue, which was something he really didn’t want to have to do.

      Aw, come on, Rebecca! Until you move I won’t be able to get us out of this!

      Zack tilted his head toward Rebecca but kept his eyes trained on the gunmen.

      “Hurry up,” he hissed.

      Ivan raised an eyebrow.

      Lord, he prayed, help her understand. I can’t keep stalling these men forever.

      “Look, please, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” Zack said, sharply. “You think I don’t remember how clumsy you were? Like I said, you’d take two steps onto the martial arts mats, trip and you would wipe out on your face. Just go around to the side of the van and get out of my way. Now! You don’t want them to tie you up or drag you off kicking and screaming, now do ya?”

      Rebecca spun on her heels—

      Thank You, God!

      She sprinted hard into the woods.

      No!

      Ivan swore and fired after her. Dmitry charged into the trees.

      No. No. No. No. No.

      This is exactly the kind of situation Zack had wanted to avoid! Rebecca was now running off wildly with no direction or focus with an experienced killer on her heels, putting her own life in even worse danger. Why hadn’t she just listened?

      Ivan’s weapon swung toward Zack. But Zack wasn’t about to let him get off another shot. Zack charged, head down, his full strength barreling into the thug like a freight train. Ivan’s body smacked against the pavement. The gun flew from his hand.

      Zack stood over him and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Why is the Black Talon in Canada? How did you get into the country? Who’s been supplying you with Canadian weapons? What do you want with Rebecca Miles?”

      “No English.” The criminal spat in his face.

      A gun blast sounded from the trees to his left.

      Rebecca.

      Dmitry was still hunting her.

      Zack’s jaw clenched. If he let Ivan get away he might never get an answer. But if he didn’t, Rebecca might die. He leveled one decisive blow at the side Ivan’s head, hard enough to keep him from following. Then Zack grabbed the man’s gun and charged into the woods. His feet pelted quickly through the trees. His ears strained for noise to guide him.

      Zack had always been a tracker. Before he’d been a soldier he’d hunted game, both large and small, in the Canadian woods. As a bodyguard one summer, he’d found and returned the runaway rich kid he’d been hired to protect. But while his body moved almost silently, his heart pounded so loudly in his ears, it threatened to block out the world around him. Rebecca hadn’t taken him seriously. She hadn’t respected him. She hadn’t seen the man he’d become. A man finally worthy of being respected and cared for by a woman like her. She must still think of him as the emotionally and physically weak boy he used to be. And now her life was in danger because of it.

      Another gun blast.

      Then Dmitry’s voice, loud and angry. “Come out now!”

      Zack crept toward the sound. He could see Dmitry between the trees. The criminal was standing in a clearing. But where was Rebecca? Dmitry swung his weapon around in a circle and fired wildly into the underbrush. Bullets tore through the trees.

      “You! Out! Now!” Dmitry’s gun spun wildly from one direction to another. “Or I’ll hurt you!”

      Zack held in his breath as bullets flew past him, exploding in the underbrush. Dmitry reached to reload.

      Rebecca