Free Escape (Last Chance Series, Book 3.5) by Dee Davis

go,” she said to Cherov, her hands clenched, anger giving her courage.  “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.  He was just trying to protect me.”
    “Yes, well, Agent Forester has a way of turning up like a bad penny.”
    “You know him?” Tracy shot a look in Seth’s direction.  He shrugged, the edge of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. 
    “Occupational hazard.  I tend to run into a lot of scum.  Present company included.”  The barb went wide, Cherov only smirking.  “We tried to nail him for the death of a Texas oil man.   Guy was playing footsies with the Iranians, and there were people, connected people, who wanted it to stop.  But one of our witnesses disappeared and the case fell apart.”
    “Things happen,” Cherov shrugged.  “And although I enjoy a trip down memory lane as much as the next guy, I think there are more pressing matters at hand.”  He paused, taking a step toward Tracy. 
    Seth immediately started to move between them, but Cherov waved him off with the gun.  “Stand down, lover boy.  In fact, put your hands on the counter and keep them where I can see them.” 
    Seth complied, but if looks could kill…
    “Now Ms. Braxton, I believe you have something I want.”  He held out a hand. 
    “I don’t have the chip,” Tracy lied, trying to buy time. 
    “Nice try, but I saw you show it to Forester.”
    She frowned, shaking her head.  How the hell had he seen?
    “The surveillance cameras in the elevator.”  Cherov smiled, the sentiment  not reflected in his eyes.  “I’ve been watching since you first came down to the labs.  I saw you dig the damn thing out of the body.”
    “So why the hell did you wait until now to make your play?” Seth asked.
    “I figured I’d let your girl here do the hard work, and besides it was entertaining to watch her.” 
    Again Seth started to move. 
    “Hands.” Cherov said, leveling the gun. 
    Seth blew out a frustrated breath, but stayed still, hands on the counter.
    Cherov’s attention shifted back to Tracy.  “You’re a very strong woman, Ms. Braxton.  Under different circumstances…”  He shrugged again, his dark gaze raking over her.
    Tracy shivered.
    “So let’s try this again.”  Cherov’s fingers widened, the other hand keeping the gun trained on Seth.  “The microchip.”
    Again Tracy hesitated. 
    “I’ll kill him,” Cherov warned, the sound of the gun being cocked giving credence to the statement.
    “You’re going to kill him anyway,” she taunted defiantly.
    “Quite possibly,” Cherov shrugged, “but this way you’ll always know that he died because of you.”
    Her heart twisted.  He was right.  If she hadn’t made such a mess of things none of this would have happened.  Marshall and Henry would still have taken the chip, and Cherov would have killed them for it.  But she and Seth would have been safe up here in her apartment.
    Bile rose in her throat at the thought.  It was her fault.
    “It’s okay,” Seth said softly, as always, reading her thoughts.  “I love you.”
    Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she dug the chip out of her pocket.  Son of a bitch wasn’t going to kill Seth.  No fucking way.
    “Here,” she said, “go and get it.”  She tossed the chip at the window, the metal casing hitting the glass behind Cherov before dropping to the floor.
    “You stupid, bitch,” Cherov said, leveling his gun, taking aim at Seth. 
    Rage flooded her with adrenaline and without another thought she launched herself at Cherov as the gun went off.  She hit him full on, catching him by surprise, and despite his superior weight she knocked him off his feet, the two of them careening backward into the plate glass window.  
    The glass shattered, the cold night air whipping into the apartment.  One minute they were standing at the edge of the window and the next, they were falling, still locked together.  Fighting to breathe, Tracy reached out for