Calculated Risk. Stephanie Doyle

to avoid the blow while he still held her right leg, the man quickly released her, but not before she was able to make contact with enough force to send him stumbling back.

      Together they fell. But knowing that’s where she was headed, Sabrina had the upper hand. She twisted her body and used her hands and feet to brace against the impact, essentially executing a prolonged push-up. Flipping over on to her backside, she did a kip-up, using the palms of her hands to bounce herself back onto the soles of her feet and into a standing position.

      She watched the man favor his knee slightly as he, too, sprang to his feet in a fluid motion. Not even the long, dark overcoat he wore got in the way of the move.

      “You want to play?” he asked, his voice a low snarl now.

      “Not particularly,” she replied. “Hey, I know. How about you let me go?”

      “Not until we talk.”

      “Tell me who you are,” she insisted. The accent was American, not foreign, but it didn’t do as much as it could have to alleviate her fear. Kahsan could have easily sent someone within the country to get her. Possibly one of the sources inside the CIA Krueger had mentioned.

      Not going to kidnap me, huh, Krueger? Thanks a lot!

      The man remained stubbornly silent to her request.

      “You don’t want to talk. I don’t want to talk. So where does that leave us?” she asked, lifting her hands, palms up. Hoping to catch him in a moment of surprise, she threw a side kick that made solid contact with his stomach. He barely reacted to it. Instead, he used the opportunity to throw a right hook at her jaw.

      Sabrina felt the blow and was stunned by it. She hadn’t forgotten how to fight, but she remembered that the other part of fighting was learning how to take a hit. She quickly remembered it wasn’t any fun.

      Blood gathered at the corner of her lip. She swiped it away with her tongue and backed away a step. Thinking he’d subdued her, he took a step forward only to be greeted by her own not-too-shabby left hook. His head turned at the impact, but he recovered faster and raised his hand again. This time she was quick enough to defend the punch with her forearm.

      Three strikes, three counters. Sabrina struggled to fend off what she knew to be perfectly executed martial arts moves. There was a little of everything in his style, karate, jujitsu and kung fu. The man wasn’t picky. But he was getting frustrated. She could feel it in the increased speed of his attack. He managed to make contact with her cheek, which staggered her. Enough for her to lose concentration for a split second.

      Suddenly, she felt his ankle whip around behind her right knee and pull. The force of it sent her stumbling backward on to her ass with her opponent looming over her. He reached for the lapels of her jacket and pulled her up to her feet so fast that she was unable to mount a counterattack with her legs. He thrust her back against the side of the building, pinning her to the brick wall with his weight.

      “You always were a hellcat in a fight.”

      Just then the moon broke free of a cloud and shot a burst of cool white light down on the man’s face. It had been a while, and he’d aged. The wrinkles were deeper around his eyes, there was a smattering of gray in his hair and his expression was harder, colder than she remembered it. But there was no mistaking him.

      “Quinlan,” she breathed.

      “In the flesh.”

      “Put me down,” she ordered imperiously. She saw his lips twitch and he paused for a second, but eventually he lowered her to her feet.

      Before he let her go, though, he had a condition. “You’ll talk to me?”

      She nodded and released a breath signaling that the fight was over. He relaxed, too, and took a step back to let her come away from the wall. As soon as she was clear, she reached for his shoulders and slammed her knee into his groin. She watched him collapse helplessly to the ground.

      He rolled onto his back and reached for his crotch, letting out a low pitiful wail.

      Squatting down on her haunches near his head, Sabrina took a moment to enjoy the view of the mighty Quinlan on his back and writhing in pain. She’d imagined him in just such a position often over the past ten years. But somehow the reality of it was so much more special.

      “Gosh, it’s been a long time,” she commented cheerily. “So how have you been?”

      He moaned and rolled away from her, attempting to get to his knees but failing. Instead, he curled himself into the fetal position.

      “That good, huh? Great. I’m doing really well myself. Good job prospect, nice house.”

      “You’ll pay,” he finally managed to whisper.

      “Well, it’s been fun catching up. We should do this again sometime.” She straightened herself to her full height and started to walk away, thinking she had at least a few minutes before he’d be able to regain his feet.

      She’d kneed him pretty hard.

      But one of her fatal weaknesses in life was that no matter what the situation, she always underestimated Quinlan.

      She felt his hand around her ankle as she moved to take a step. She had the advantage of position, but she’d forgotten how strong he could be. He tugged hard on her leg and sent her tumbling. Unprepared for his speedy recovery, she wasn’t able to control her landing and ended up falling on her arm at a bad angle, her elbow smacking the pavement hard.

      As she tried to breathe through the numbing pain, she felt him crawling up behind her using his weight to keep her down. She felt his knee press against the small of her back and gasped at the pressure he applied. Apparently, he wasn’t taking any chances of her escaping.

      Either that or he was really ticked off.

      He grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, securing them with a thin piece of wire that she knew from experience he carried around with him like most men carried pictures of their kids. He wasn’t merciful as he pulled her to her feet and pushed her out in front of him.

      “So help me, Bri, you pull another stunt like that and I’ll—”

      “What? Hit me?” She turned around to face him so he could see the blood trickling from her lip. “Oooh. I’m scared.”

      When they got to the end of the street he stopped her and signaled with his hand. A few blocks down, Sabrina could see a set of headlights blink to life. In moments the car pulled up in front of them—a dark Cadillac equipped with a driver.

      “What, no limo?” Sabrina asked. “Those budget cuts must really be hell on you guys.”

      “Get in.” He opened the rear door and Sabrina got in butt first, sliding over the red leather seat as she made room for who she now understood was Krueger’s choice. She checked the locks on the doors and saw that there weren’t any. No handles, either. It might not be a limo, but it was definitely government issue.

      As soon as Quinlan shut the door, he gave the driver directions. “Her house. The long way.” He hit a button on a panel located on the arm of the car door. It raised a partition between the front and back half of the car. They were alone.

      There was quiet for a time. Neither spoke as the impact of being in the same car together after so long apart settled on them. Quinlan, however, was the first to recover. He hit the car light on the roof and filled the back seat with a dim yellow glow.

      Sabrina squinted at the light as her pupils adjusted. After a moment she turned to look at him only to find him staring back at her. He removed one of the black leather gloves he wore, and reached for her face to swipe away the blood.

      She jerked her head back and snapped. “Don’t touch me.”

      “It wasn’t my intention to be so rough with you,” he said, sounding regretful over their fight.

      “It never is,” she replied.

      Sighing,