Free 30 Pieces of Silver by Carolyn McCray Page A

Monroe, get out of here. You’ve got a smart gene to find.”
    “ Yeah, right,” she said as she checked the wrap on his calf. It had soaked through yet again.
    He grabbed her arm with more strength than she thought he had left. “I mean it. Get your ass out of here.”
    “ And leave my guardian angel behind? Never.”
    Davidson held her gaze. His eyes were suddenly so much older than his scant decades. “It’s too high. You’ll never be able to get me up there, and every second you waste—” The private descended into another coughing fit.
    As much as she fought against it, the kid was right. She just didn’t have the strength to push him up onto the roof. At least not unassisted.
    Then she knew exactly what she needed. Her trusty pulley. Unfortunately they had left the mechanism all the way across the hangar.
    Pulling her shirt over her nose, she turned to Davidson. “Don’t wander off.” The private just gave her that look. “I’ll be right back.”
    With that, Rebecca headed back into the nearly opaque hangar.
     
    * * *
     
    Picking up the pace, Brandt made for the northwest corner. The maze of flame should force their attackers there. Or at least that’s what he hoped.
    A smattering of gunfire came from behind. Swinging around, Brandt raised his weapon, his finger to the trigger, but he hesitated, not wanting to nail Lopez or Svengurd if they were retreating in his direction. It took another second for the sergeant to register the pattern of shots being exchanged.
    The pursuer was firing at an insane rate. Lopez. The pursued gunman tried to keep up, but who could? Brandt aimed at the spot the fleeing enemy should appear. A leg came into view, but the sergeant waited. With so few bullets, he had to make every shot count. Abruptly, Lopez stopped firing.
    Shit, was the corporal out of ammo as well? Whether completely empty or just re-loading, there was nothing to push the man into Brandt’s sights. The leg paused as the assailant’s muscles contracted, ready to change direction and rush forward.
    Forty-two. Forty-one. Forty.
    Brandt counted down his ammo. He’d clipped the guy in the hip, but not enough to stop him from retreating to safety. Using four rounds for cover, he charged forward. Just a few scant yards ahead, the maze branched. They couldn’t lose this slim advantage.
    As Brandt turned into the narrow pathway between the wall and the raging fire, he found their adversary trapped between himself and a newly reloaded Lopez. Their quarry tried to dart down the side path, but Svengurd stepped from the smoky corridor, blocking the prick’s escape. They had the slippery bastard dead to rights. For the first time, Brandt considered they might actually capture one.
    And find out what the fuck was going on.
    “ Lower your weapon.” He leveled his weapon. “Now!” The man coolly pulled on a ski mask. “Damn it, hands down!”
    Then the bastard did the most incredible thing. He leapt into the fire. They rushed forward to see if he had really, actually jumped into the flames.
    Shouldn’t there have been a scream or something? No one burned alive in silence, but there was nothing but a wall of flame. No smell of burnt flesh. The sergeant’s mind whirled, and that same pit in his stomach formed, just like it had before the PDA blew up.
    “ Back away!” he yelled, even before the full threat formed in his mind. “Disperse!”
    The charred air filled with gunfire. Screw counting , Brandt thought, shooting rapidly as two masked men emerged from the crackling flames.
    The fuckers had fire-resistant body armor.
    Which meant they had the protection the entire time. Which meant they had taken their sweet time luring all three of his team together, to more easily dispatch them.
    Lopez and Svengurd tried to hold their ground, but had to fall back. As Brandt’s firing pin hit metal, he had no other option but to run as well. Scrambling low, he pulled the twenty-two-caliber handgun from his boot