Free Edge of Courage (Edge Security Series Book 5) by Trish Loye Page A

there!
    She ran down the alley, away from them. The seven men left in the patrol followed her, firing and screaming threats.
    “Fuck,” Dylan said. “What has she done?”
    “She’s saved our asses,” Jake said. “Now let’s move.”
----
    S arah sprinted for her life . She didn’t bother zigzagging down the alley; it would only slow her down, and the chances of being hit were just as likely. She pushed her legs as hard as she could, her breathing ragged.
    She’d been in Mosul for five months. As a woman, she’d been unable to go for any runs, and the limit of her exercise had been calisthenics in the basement.
    It hadn’t been enough.
    A bullet whipped by her head. She had to get away from the HQ area and out of the downtown business district, with its tall buildings and wider streets. She veered right, down an alley with a chain-link fence at the end.
    It took precious seconds to climb. She just made it to the top when the bullets started. She fired two shots, hitting one of the men. They moved back around the corner and she dropped from the ten-foot fence to the other side, landing heavily. Her breath whooshed out of her.
    She hated running.
    She stood and fired once more at the men now sprinting toward the fence before taking off. The alley led to another main street. A lone car drove along it. She dashed across, aiming for another alley. She wanted to get to the old district, south of al-Saddiq street, the closest residential area, where the narrow streets and numerous alleys created a maze she could lose the men in.
    Sirens sounded in the distance. Dammit. They’d called in reinforcements. Her comms clicked on in her earbud.
    “Ghost, this is College. Sit rep. Over.”
    She panted between words. “Running…six men…reinforcements on way.”
    “Location.”
    She made it to the end of the next alley and pulled back into the shadows. The men hadn’t made it to this alley yet. A police car zoomed down the street. “You can’t help me. Get the package out.”
    “Location, Ghost.” That was Dylan’s voice.
    She glanced at a street sign as she passed. “Nuhoor Street. Alley across from a bakery.”
    “En route. Advise if you move.”
    Dylan was coming to her? “Negative. No need for assistance.”
    She practically heard his growl over the comms link. “Don’t be so damn stubborn—”
    Jake came on the line. “Cowboy’s your backup. We’re moving the package.”
    She swore silently. And then had to push the annoyance aside. She heard men speaking Arabic, coordinating their search for her. Time to move. The street ahead was empty. She hugged the line of parked cars as she ran in a crouch down another block.
    With a quick prayer, she sprinted across the street, streaking into an alley beside a tea house. Three more blocks to the west and she should be entering the old district, where she knew she could lose the fighters behind her. Almost free.
    “Sit rep, Ghost,” Dylan said.
    She huddled beside some overfull trash cans. The whole alley smelled of rotting food, dog shit, and urine. She just needed to catch her breath. “I’ve almost lost them,” she whispered, opening her mouth wide to try to control her panting. “No need for assistance.”
    “I’ve got your location on my GPS,” he said in response.
    What? She almost groaned. The damn E.D.G.E. phone in her belt was letting him track her. She didn’t want Dylan’s help. She didn’t want anything from him. It was a childish reaction, but she was distracted enough not to fight it.
    “I repeat. Situation is fine,” she whispered. She glanced down the alley. “Shit.”
    “That doesn’t sound fine,” Dylan said.
    The fighters jogged down the street. The number of them had swelled up to nine. They sent a man to check each alley while they continued to jog along, creating a fast-moving search party.
    She stood and raced to the back of the alley she was in. A stone wall stopped her. Ten feet high. No way she was getting over that