Free Hunter's Games by James P. Sumner Page B

alright?”
    “The kids are safe, thanks to you. I don’t know if you’re a hero or just plain stupid, but you were on that bus before any of us even registered that the chopper had exploded. That was some good work, Adrian… Thank you.”
    “I’m just glad they’re alright. What about the SWAT guys?”
    Wallis purses his lips together and shakes his head solemnly. “All dead,” he says. “I’ve no idea how the sonofabitch managed to rig a bomb to a fucking SWAT truck...”
    “Shit. I’m sorry, man.”
    “None of us saw it coming. We were too focused on the school bus.”
    His voice trails off. I look at him. He’s maybe six months into being a fully trained agent, but nothing you do at Quantico can prepare you for a day like he's just had. He’s probably still in shock.
    “How are we all doing?” I ask, feeling compelled to offer some level of comfort to him.
    He starts to answer, but Agent Chambers walks in, followed by Agent Johnson, and he stops himself. They both look like they’ve been dragged ass-backward through a trash heap, but they’re in one piece at least.
    “Can you give us a minute?” she asks Wallis.
    He nods and heads out of the door. Johnson follows him, but stops and turns back to look at me.
    “Everything else aside,” he says. “That was a real gutsy move back there, Adrian.”
    He walks out without waiting for a reply and closes the door behind him.
    I look at Agent Chambers. Grace. She stands next to me, where Wallis had just been. She smiles a weary smile.
    “You alright?” I ask.
    “I’ve had better days, but I’ll live.”
    “I’m just glad we all survived. You might not believe me, but I do genuinely feel for those SWAT guys. I know this is my fault.”
    “This isn’t your fault,” she says, putting her hand on mine and squeezing gently. I try to return the gesture, but don’t quite have the strength. “This is The Shark’s fault. And whether I like it or not, we were lucky you were there.”
    “Ah, team effort,” I say, smiling. “Hey, where’s Josh? I don’t remember seeing him in the chaos back there.”
    Chambers says nothing, but looks down and squeezes my hand again.
    “What is it?” I ask, with growing concern.
    “Your friend was hit,” she says. “He’s in the ICU now and he’s listed as critical. I’m sorry, Adrian.”
    I feel sick to my stomach. Like I’m on a rollercoaster and I’ve just been flipped upside down at a hundred miles an hour. The room starts spinning almost as fast as my mind is. How the hell could Josh have been shot?
    I replay the scene in my head as best I can. Parts of it are still blurry to me, thanks to what I can only assume is a fairly significant concussion.
    The first blast was over to our left. That was the SWAT van. The second blast was high above, which was the chopper. That crashed down on the school bus, causing a third blast—that was the one that just about got me. So how did Josh get shot?
    I close my eyes and rub my temples, trying to make sense of everything.
    The gunshots…
    There were two gunshots. They were barely audible at the time, but there was no mistaking them. I remember hearing them in the few moments between the first two explosions. I dismissed them as random at the time, but I was wrong. The timing of them was too specific. Two bullets.
    The Shark intended to take Josh out.
    I don’t have the energy to get angry. I’ll save that for later. I’ll save that for when my hands are around The Shark’s throat.
    I look at Chambers. “I need to see him,” I say.
    “You need to rest,” she replies.
    “I wasn’t asking...”
    I sit up, pulling all the leads off me and causing the machine to sound the constant beep of a flatline. I swing my legs over the side of the bed just as the door bursts open and three nurses run in shouting.
    “Sir, you must stay in bed!” barks one of them.
    I wave them away and stand up slowly, adding weight to my legs gradually to make sure I can actually get