The Marshal's Runaway Witness. Diane Burke

ensued. People screamed and hospital personnel scurried to help the patients do as Dylan demanded.

      Two men appeared at the end of the far corridor and were quickly gaining ground.

      A shot rang out.

      Bear, never losing stride, glanced over his shoulder, raised his right hand and fired his weapon.

      A second shot rang out and a chunk of drywall chipped off next to Dylan’s ear. He ducked and returned fire, offering what little cover he could for his partner.

      One of the men in pursuit fell to the ground.

      The second man stopped, grabbed his injured accomplice under the arm, and dragged him to his feet. In a hail of bullets, they ducked down another hall.

      Dylan returned fire again, then again.

      When they disappeared from sight, he stopped firing and tried to make a split-second decision on what his next move should be. He wanted to pursue them but there were three people at hand that needed him more. If there were two bad guys, it stood to reason there would soon be more. His priority right now was getting his team to safety.

      “I’ll take over. Thanks.” Dylan nudged Selma away. He slipped his hand under Angelina’s left arm but not before passing Selma his car keys and telling her where their black sedan was parked. “Bring the car back to the loading dock. We’ll be right behind you. Go!”

      No longer burdened with Angelina’s weight, Selma didn’t need any prodding and took off running.

      “Hit the elevator button,” Bear yelled.

      Dylan pushed the button but then moved the three of them to the stairs.

      “Whatcha doing, man?” Bear tried to pull Angelina back toward the elevator.

      “We’re taking the stairs. We can’t be sure they’re alone. Others might be riding up here right now. Don’t want to be greeted with gunfire when the elevator door opens, do we?”

      Bear pushed open the door to the stairwell and peered over the railing. “Are you crazy? It’s ten floors.”

      “Getting soft in your old age, Simmons?”

      “I’ll give you ‘getting soft.’” Bear almost growled the words.

      Dylan chuckled in spite of the tension of the moment. Everybody knew Bear counted the days, hours and even the minutes until his retirement party in six months. He’d become a little less willing to risk any injury. But Dylan intended to make sure his partner made it to that party in one large cake-eating piece.

      Dylan forced his mind into overdrive, doing a double and triple check of every decision he made. He vowed not to lose the life of a second partner on his watch like he’d done years ago.

      “Dylan...”

      Pure terror resonated in Angelina’s voice yet her outward demeanor remained calm and collected.

      “It’s going to be all right, Angelina.” He gave her noninjured arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got you. We’ll be out of here and safe in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

      He threw a glance over his right shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed. Then, offering a silent prayer that he was making the right decision, he nodded to his partner and they began their descent down the stairs.

      * * *

      Not a word passed between them as they moved in an even rhythm through the stairwell.

      Angelina’s head pounded with pain. Her blurred vision made the stairwell and the men beside her appear as if they were underwater. But she didn’t dare complain. She couldn’t be responsible for slowing them down when she knew every second was crucial to keeping the three of them alive.

      Dylan grinned when they reached the ground floor. “We made it!”

      “You sound surprised. That sigh of relief doesn’t instill a great deal of confidence here, McKnight.”

      “What are you talking about? I told you it would be okay. I’d keep you safe.” Dylan gingerly patted her shoulder. “And I will.”

      When Bear released Angelina’s other arm, she slid to the bottom step, grateful for the moment of rest.

      Bear leaned over, his huge hands bracing his upper body against his knees, and sucked air deeply into his lungs. “Yeah, well don’t start celebrating yet,” he baited Dylan. “All we’ve managed to do is jog down a million steps.”

      Angelina smiled up at the older man. “You did a good job. Thank you for keeping me safe.”

      A surprised expression crossed his face. Then he nodded almost shyly in acknowledgment of her compliment.

      “Stop your griping, Bear.” Dylan slapped his partner on the back. “You really are getting soft, you know. Good thing you’ll be hanging up your shield soon. Those bones of yours are getting pretty old.”

      “Don’t get too sure of yourself. How long do you think it’s going to take the bad guys to figure out we took the stairs? A nanosecond from now?”

      Dylan glanced up the stairwell and then out into the corridor. “My guess is they’re riding the elevator and searching floor by floor.”

      Bear nodded. “Then let’s get out of here before they figure it out. I’m a bigger target than you. Today’s not the day I feel like getting shot.”

      “Copy that, big guy.”

      Dylan helped Angelina rise from the step. “You okay?”

      She nodded. But she knew Dylan wasn’t blind. Her eyes watered from the pounding in her temples and she didn’t know how much longer she could tolerate the pain.

      Still, she couldn’t slow them down. She refused to be the reason any more people died. Not today. Not ever.

      “Beat you to the back door.” She forced herself to grin at the two men.

      “You’re doing great.” Dylan stared into her eyes exuding more confidence than she was sure he felt.

      She knew she wasn’t fooling him but he wasn’t fooling her, either. They were in danger. Huge danger. And every second counted.

      “One more corridor. Just one more,” he assured her. “Selma’s right on the other side of that last door and then we’ll be safe.”

      Angelina took a deep breath. Now she understood what it meant when people said the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. She knew her fighting spirit and determination wouldn’t let her down but she worried that her body was another story.

      “We’ll do this together, Miss Baroni,” Bear said, clasping her under the arm. “Let’s go.”

      Without another word, both men picked her up and moved in a rapid pace toward that back door. She knew neither man would dare voice their own fears that Selma and the getaway car might not be there in time but tension was written all over their faces.

      Excruciating pain pounded in her temples at each jolt of her body. Her vision blurred even more and nausea cramped her stomach.

       Dear Lord.

      The beginning of a prayer came naturally. It saddened her that she couldn’t feel comfortable anymore talking to the Lord, the only One whom she had once believed could truly keep her safe, whom she had once sought for comfort and inner peace.

      Angelina gritted her teeth and endured the ache in each arm as the men half carried, half dragged her down the corridor.

      The men’s pace increased almost with a desperation she knew they didn’t want to show.

      This wasn’t going to work. These men would forfeit their lives trying to get her to the safe house and she would have more blood, more good lives lost, on her head. The murder she witnessed of a neighbor had started this whole