Chapter 1

Valencia, Venezuela

A bullet slammed into the stone wall. Tania Laciter, or at least that was the name she’d been going by until about ten minutes ago, barely ducked behind the wall in time, a shower of pulverized rock splashing over her as the bullet smashed into the stone.

Slamming into the wall, she dropped down and pivoted out, her gun coming up in a smooth, well-practiced motion. The mercenary, or at least that was what Tania assumed he was, closest to her and in the line of fire of his buddies, didn’t have time to react as she put a round into his gut, just below where his vest ended.

He cried out and crumpled over, crashing into the pavement. Tania was already moving, ducking back behind the corner as his buddies opened fire, stitching a line of bullets across the wall.

Fucking amateurs.

She bolted, racing down a narrow alley. They weren’t being subtle in their pursuit. Even if she hadn’t heard the shouts, mostly in English, and curses, in a variety of languages, she would have heard the banging of all the shit they’d attached to their web harnesses, making them stand out like sore thumbs and easy to hear coming. They’d almost certainly left their injured man behind. He was the third she’d shot, and she hadn’t noticed their number reduce by more than those that had been injured, so it seemed unlikely they were thinking much about extracting their dead. Who knew? Maybe they had a backup team out there.

Although she didn’t think so. This wasn’t a pro-organization. If they had been, they would have made a better approach and had a net around her before they made their move. Not that she couldn’t have gotten out of it. It was almost insulting, being targeted by such low-class muscle.

Tania was looking ahead of her as she ran. She had to either get out of this alley or find cover because they’d have a line on her in a second. She spotted a dumpster on the right, where the alley took a ninety-degree turn.

She skidded to a stop behind it, dropping into a crouch, her back pressed against the cold, rusty metal. The shouts were getting closer. She risked a quick peek. Two of them. They’d slowed down, probably wondering where she disappeared to, as if behind the dumpster wasn’t the most obvious answer in the world. They were looking around like they expected her to have scaled the walls and was about to drop down on them.

She waited until they were almost on top of her before popping up. The first shot took the lead merc in the throat, just above his vest. His eyes went wide as he clutched at his neck, blood pouring out between his fingers. The second shot hit his partner center mass, slamming him back against the wall.

He wasn’t dead, but this close, he’d be sucking air for the next ten minutes.

They weren’t alone, just the fastest runners. She looked around, trying to find a way out of the alley. She looked around the corner and saw a fire escape. That would work. She sprinted for it, holstering her gun and leaping up, hands grasping the bottom rung. The ladder groaned as she hauled herself up, boots scrabbling against the brick wall.

Shouts echoed from the alley below. Their slower, and less dead, friends had arrived. Tania clambered up the fire escape two metal steps at a time, ducking as bullets pinged off the railing, far too close for comfort.

They were idiots, but not the worst shots.

She grabbed the top of the small ladder and hauled herself up onto the roof, a flat expanse dotted with ventilation units and pipes. Pulling her pistol, she fired a few wild rounds down, just to make them think twice about following her, and dove behind the nearest vent, pressing her back against the sun-warmed metal.

Voices in English and Russian floated up from below. Wouldn’t take them long to follow her up, even being cautious. She pulled her small go bag off her back and the web harness, which she’d grabbed from the guy who’d kicked in the door of her apartment, after which she’d drilled him in the head, off her shoulder and started rummaging around, looking for the supplies she needed, which included one of the grenades hanging off of the web harness.

After a few quick, practiced moves, she had the grenade attached to some wire and to the ladder coming up the side of the building. They might be smart and edge over the top of it carefully, in which case they’d see it in time, but she doubted it. She leaned over and fired off two more rounds. They were halfway up the fire escape and ducked down as best they could.

She couldn’t help but notice that there were only a few of them on the fire escape.

They thought they were smart. They’d sent a few guys up the fire escape to keep her busy, and the others through the building to ‘surprise her.’ She’d have a surprise for them instead as she hooked a wire around the outside of the rooftop access door.

Gunfire laced the edge of the roof, far away from where she was now. They were trying to keep her from taking more shots at them, which meant they were hurrying, trying to beat their friends to the top. Maybe the one who got her would get a bonus or something.

She smiled as she thought about the something she had for them instead. She ran to the far corner of the building and waited, just in case.

The guys on the fire escape made it first, pulling themselves up and throwing their bodies over the edge, trying for speed and the element of surprise, and they did look pretty surprised as a foot caught the wire, pulling the pin of the grenade. The blast wasn’t much, but they were right on top of it, so it was enough to send them over the side. She heard more curses and hoped they’d landed on their friends.

The rooftop access door opened a heartbeat later, followed by the two remaining grenades from the web harness going off with a boom. She ducked down as chunks of roof tile, gravel, and idiots flew over her head or smacked into the air conditioning unit she was hiding behind.

The access door was a smoking ruin, the mercs, nothing more than bloody smears on the rooftop. She allowed herself a tight smile. She did love it when a plan came together. She couldn’t stay up here, though. That was three, maybe four down if one of the other guys on the fire escape caught some shrapnel. They still had half a dozen more men by her count.

Tania sprinted across the roof. The adjacent building was only a few feet away, an easy jump for her. She didn’t slow down, hitting the raised edge at full speed and launching herself into the air.

For a moment, she hung suspended, feeling the wind in her hair, before gravity took hold, and slammed her into the tar and gravel of the next roof. She rolled with the impact and came up running, barely breaking stride. She skidded to a halt at the edge of the roof and looked down at the street. No sign of mercs down there, for the moment, but she did see something. A motorcycle caught her eye. It was parked haphazardly on the sidewalk, a guy in a helmet crouching behind a mailbox next to a scared-looking girl, probably trying to hide from all the gunshots and explosions.

She couldn’t see the keys, but she bet they were still in the bike. Or at least she hoped he’d stopped to chat up some girl before all hell broke loose and had left them there.

Behind her, she heard shouts. They’d made it up to the other roof, following after their buddies. She moved as soon as they started shooting, leaping across the alley and down onto the fire escape on the other side as bullets whizzed through the space she’d just occupied.

She hit. Hard. The feeling traveled up her spine. She ignored it, and leaped over the side, aiming for the next level down on the fire escape. It was a tough jump, but she made it. Barely.

Bullets peppered the brick wall where she’d been a second ago. She didn’t have time to do this one level at a time, but she’d gotten close enough, and vaulted over the edge, rolling with the impact to keep from breaking anything, and coming up on her feet again.

Dashing across the street, she leaped on the bike. The keys were in it. Its owner yelled for her to stop in Spanish as she gunned the engine and roared off down the street. She wove through the traffic, leaning low over the handlebars, making herself as small a target as possible.

The mercs tried taking potshots from up on the roof, but didn’t even come close. Worse, for them, people around panicked, especially after one of them hit a bystander who was trying to hide behind less-than-adequate cover. People were running in every direction now, making it even harder to hit her.

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second. For once, Tania was grateful for their presence. These guys wouldn’t be operating like this in the open if they had support from the locals. They would have worked with them, had cops with them, when they came through her door. No. They’d have to beat it too.

Not that it mattered. She was blown, and she had a very good idea how. If she was right, it meant she was completely screwed.

She knew she’d need some help to get out of the country, and she had a very good idea of where she could get it!

Washington D.C.

Taylor had just sat down at the bar, looking into the kitchen with his cup of coffee, opening the paper, when the front door opened and Kara came in, hauling a sack over her shoulder.