Free Sniper Fire (Love in the Crosshairs) by Kathy Lane Page B

words. Even adding in one young, pale-faced Waterhouse, he came up two chicks short.
    “Rash and Dell?”
    Joshua shifted in the cramped space to face him. “Up front. Don’t worry, all personnel are present and accounted for.”
    Good. That was good. He searched the group again until he found Sam braced in a corner next to Waterhouse. “You okay, Stitch?”
    The taciturn man nodded once. “Been better, but I’m not complaining.” His head tipped in Farrah’s direction. “Doc here sewed me up tight. You, too. Trust me, nothing’s getting past her stitches.”
    Kyle grunted. High praise, indeed. Sam wasn’t codenamed Stitch after the little blue cartoon character. The man was a magician with a needle and thread.
    Another bump and thump. Swearing joined the siren, as everyone bounced off the seats. A few heads connected painfully with the metal roof. Kyle added a few of his own choice words. He was strapped down, but the stretcher he lay on wasn’t. Pain shot up his leg, making him wish, just for a split second, that Farrah had taken the damn thing off after all.
    “Rash!” Joshua growled. “Stop driving like an Egyptian, damn it. You’re a bloody Boston Southie who should know how to dodge pot holes.”
    “Sorry, sorry,” Rashid called from the front seat. “My bad. Though I must point out that it is not my fault HQ picked a PZ without a decent road.”
    “Where the hell are we?” Kyle snarled. The pain building in his leg made him want to slug someone. “And turn off that damn siren!”
    Rashid laughed. “No can do, partner. We’ve already made it through a couple of checkpoints thanks to the banshee and blinker. Just bear with it a little longer. We’re almost there.”
    “There, that should help.”
    Kyle looked over to find Farrah putting away an empty syringe. He wrapped a hand around her wrist.
    “What are you doing? I need to stay conscious.”
    She’d already lied to him once, promising he’d be awake when they left the clinic. Yet here he was, waking up hours and hours later, just minutes from their destination. The fact they were in a vehicle instead of on foot might have something to do with that, but he didn’t really care. He hated the time he’d lost to oblivion. Not knowing if he’d missed another complication, maybe another fire fight, didn’t sit well at all.
    Farrah flexed her hand, but didn’t try to pull out of his grip. The look she gave him held a mix of calm and fear. Nausea rolled through his stomach, forcing a rush of burning bile into his throat. Kyle swallowed hard and loosened his grip on her wrist. He’d scared her, damn it. Did she really think he’d hurt her?
    “What I gave you won’t put you out,” she promised, her voice cool, but steady. “It’s just to dull the pain. I’m sorry about keeping you under, but Joshua told me to, and I agreed with him.”
    His gaze bounced over to his best friend and locked. “You bastard, you told her to keep me out? How long have I been unconscious?”
    “Don’t use that tone with me, soldier. I’m the one in command here. Your doctor and I discussed it and decided your body needed the rest despite your stubborn hide. You’re here and awake now, so what’s your problem?”
    Kyle tried to hold on to his anger, but it was hard to do. Whatever she’d shot him with was already taming the gnawing pain so he could breathe evenly again. It also let his brain work through the last of the fog. What the hell was Farrah doing here? She was supposed to be safe back at the clinic. Being with them would only put her in more danger. She could be killed!
    With an oath, he dropped her wrist like it was a live wire, not trusting himself as fear grew like a cancer in his gut. He wanted to pull her to him, hold her, and squeeze her until she would fit in his pocket, safe from the terrors of his violent world. He was such a stupid, love-sick fool.
    “Get away from me,” he growled. He strained, pushing himself up on an elbow so he