Grasping her shoulders, he squeezed to make sure she was paying attention to every single word he said. “The smoke’s gonna be way thicker outside than it is in here. Once I open that door, we’ve got seconds, maximum, to get out of our room and down the hallway to an exit. The closest one’s to the left, about thirty meters. You get on the floor and crawl as fast as you can for it. Hold your breath if you can, and don’t stop unless I tell you to. No matter what. Got it?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper but she raised the cloth and held it to her face.
“It’s gonna be pitch dark out there and the smoke’s gonna make your eyes run so keep them closed and hug the wall. You’re gonna grab hold of me anyplace you can get a good grip and I’m going to lead us out, okay?”
This time she nodded, her curls brushing the backs of his hands. “What about the shooters?”
“The smoke’s too thick for them to be up here. Just hold onto me and stay low once we hit the hallway. We’ve only got one shot at this.”
Another brittle nod, and he could practically feel the terror pouring off her. He squeezed her shoulders once more, fighting back the cold tendrils of fear snaking up his backbone.
Gut check time.
Hunter hauled her to her feet, helped her over the edge of the tub and snagged a hand towel from the ruined vanity to press over his own face. “Ready?”
She coughed, shot out a hand and snagged his arm. “Hunter…” A wealth of emotion laced that single word. Fear, hope, regret.
He couldn’t let her panic. To calm her he took her face between his hands, pitched his voice low. “Listen to me.”
Even though he couldn’t see her, he could reach her with his words, the force of his will. “You know we don’t have a choice. I’m gonna be right in front of you every moment, and you’re not gonna stop no matter what happens.” He kept his voice harsh, authoritative. “If something happens to me, you don’t stop, you keep going. You keep fucking going until you get down the stairs and out to where the guys will be waiting for you. Now take a deep breath, and when I squeeze your hand, you hold all that air in because I’m going to open this door and get us the fuck outta here.”
He released her, slid a hand down to grip hers, tight, and grabbed his pistol with the other. “On three. One.” He heard her pull in a deep breath through the wet cloth. “Two.” Her fingers dug into him like claws. “
Three
.” He sucked in a breath, ripped open the bathroom door and ran blindly for the only way out.
Out in the hotel parking lot, Gage shoved his way through the crowd of transfixed onlookers and headed straight for the armed officers maintaining the perimeter a good distance away from the hotel. The SWAT team was doing dick all, standing around the command van. A continuous stream of guests flowed out of the hotel’s ground floor exits, people in their sleepwear doubled over coughing, their clothes and skin tarnished with smoke and soot.
No sign of Hunter or Khalia, and neither of them had responded to the last two texts Gage had sent. Ignoring the gestures and shouts for him to stay back, Gage strode right up to the armed guards to find out what the hell was going on.
“I’m an American military contractor, and my team leader’s inside,” he told the pissed off corporal.
“No one goes in but law enforcement,” the guy told him firmly. “Get back and give us some room.”
He could have tried storming past them but everyone was already on edge and the last thing he wanted to worry about was being shot by one of the good guys in the midst of the chaos. With a mental curse he spun around and stalked back toward the road where he’d parked the SUV. Two steps from the door, his cell rang.
He snatched it out of his pocket and his heart gave a funny lurch when he saw Claire’s number. “Hey,” he answered, wondered if she had any more bad news.
“Are you okay?” she blurted.
Any other time, the worry in her voice might have set off a spurt of hope inside him. “I’m fine. So you heard?”
“I was just about to leave the office when the news broke. Everyone on my floor’s glued to their monitors watching the live stream now. What’s going on?”
Leaning against the vehicle, he looked back at the hotel. Considering he wasn’t allowed within a hundred feet of the place, Claire probably knew more than he did at this point. “There’s smoke streaming from most of the fourth and fifth floor windows. I can see people waving towels and stuff through them, trying to get the emergency responders’ attention. With the shooters still in there nobody’s letting the fire crews near the building. SWAT team hasn’t even gone inside yet and basically nobody knows shit, let alone how many shooters are in there.”
“But what about Hunter? We heard that he might—”
“He’s trapped inside somewhere on the fifth floor with Khalia.” Her ragged gasp of dismay only amplified the helplessness inside him. “I talked to him a little while ago and they were okay but I can’t reach him now.” Staring at the burning building, the dread kept building. “Doesn’t look good, Claire,” he admitted quietly. With how intense the fire was and how fast it was spreading, it was likely many of those inside wouldn’t get out in time.
She was silent a moment as she absorbed that. “What about the others?”
“Tom’s on his way, and the other two guys on the team should be here any minute.” Fuckload of good any of them would do Hunt and Khalia though.
“What can I do?” she asked, steel in her voice.
After the way she’d dropped him like a live grenade six months ago the offer shouldn’t have meant much to him. Except it did, and more than he’d ever let her know. “Alert me if you get any intel that might be of use?”
“I’m on it.”
And damned if those three little words didn’t make him feel better even under these supremely shitty circumstances. When Claire sank her teeth into something she was like a bulldog, wouldn’t let go until she’d got what she wanted. Knowing she was on this took an invisible weight off his shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
A wry smile tugged at his mouth. “So you do still care.”
A huffing sound, and he had no trouble imagining the annoyed expression he knew was on her face. “Gage, I mean it. No bullshit heroics or anything.”
Ellis and Dunphy’s SUV came into view down the street near where the police had blocked off traffic. He stuck out an arm to flag them down. “Gotta do what I can.”
“Gage—”
“Have to go now. Talk to you later.”
“Gage, wait, there’s—!”
Ignoring the urgency in her voice he disconnected as the boys pulled up behind his vehicle. Ellis stepped out of the passenger seat and pulled off his Oakleys, taking in the scene with a single glance. “Shit, it’s like Mumbai all over again.”
“No, it’s worse,” Gage corrected. “More shooters this time and so far they’re better organized.” How the fuck had they found Khalia in so short a time? He and Hunt had been careful last night. Nobody had followed them, Gage was positive.
Tom’s vehicle passed through the police barricade and sped toward them, stopping behind the second SUV with a screech of tires. The driver’s side door popped open and Tom jumped out. He ripped off his shades and stared at the burning spectacle before him. “Fuck me,” he muttered. His hazel gaze shifted to Gage. “Nothing further?”
“Nope.”
Tom set his hands on his hips and shook his head as he stared at the burning hotel. “I can’t goddamn believe this. Shit, it’s gotta be hell on Hunt. Especially this soon after Scottie…”
“Yeah.” Tom had said what they were all thinking, but the back of Gage’s neck prickled at the thought of being trapped in that burning building with active shooters hunting him yet again.
They were all quiet a moment as the gravity of the situation sunk in. This shit was fucked up, any way you looked at it. The ground floor exits were eerily inactive now. “No one’s come out of there for the past few minutes,” Gage said finally, his gut sinking.
Tom flashed him a sharp look and narrowed his eyes. “Hunt’ll get out.”
Well if anyone could get out of that deathtrap, it was Hunter. And Gage hoped like hell his friend and Khalia found a way.
With a nod he turned to Ellis and Dunphy. “Grab your weapons and med kits. We’ll get in position and each take an exit so we’re ready for them when they come out.”
Up on the fifth floor Hunter burst through the hotel room’s door into the hallway—
And crawled straight into hell.
Through the artificial darkness cast by the choking smoke he could just make out the orange glow of flames at the end of the hallway to the left. The sights, sounds and smells instantly transported him back to that burning ministry building in Quetta.
For a brief moment he was trapped in that memory as he and Scottie fought their way toward the staircase that led to the roof. Images flashed through his mind at high speed. The sound of the mob outside the building walls. The desperate run to safety with no backup in sight. The rest of the team herding the diplomats up to the roof. Scottie slumped on the floor in a pool of blood. Him hauling his buddy over his shoulder and pounding up the steps to the rooftop, praying the evac would be in time, that Scottie would make it if Hunter could just get him out fast enough.
A hand on his lower leg snapped him back to the present, unfreezing him. Khalia.
Move, asshole.
With the wet cloth pressed over his mouth and nose, he laid flat on the debris-strewn carpet and took stock of their options. He was on his belly, braced on his forearms and she was right behind him. He couldn’t risk trying to run the gauntlet of flames on the left, even though it meant the only remaining exit probably had shooters waiting for them. No telling how fast and where the flames were spreading to, and they had less than a minute to get out of here before the smoke suffocated them both.
Over the shriek of the fire alarm and the pounding of his heart he heard Khalia coughing, felt the convulsive grip of her hand around his right ankle, and made a snap decision. He turned right and began to belly-crawl down the hallway. Nobody came at them and he didn’t see or sense anyone else in the corridor. His eyes were streaming so much that he had to grope his way along, using the wall to orient himself.
Khalia stayed right with him. Steeling himself against the sounds of her gasping coughs he kept crawling forward, intent on getting to the exit. Only another thirty yards or so, though it seemed like a thousand. Another ten yards and a few choked breaths later, the smoke got to him too. Deep, wracking coughs took hold as the toxic fumes clogged his lungs. Blind, gasping, he forced himself to crawl faster, prepared to bodily drag Khalia out of there if necessary. He’d already lost Scottie despite his best efforts to save him. He wasn’t losing Khalia too.
His right hand felt along the wall as he moved closer to that unseen exit, hoping like hell it was clear. Already he was lightheaded, his brain setting off its low oxygen alarm. His lungs burned, the exertion sapping his muscles of strength. He was running on full auto mode now, nothing but survival instinct propelling him forward. Then Khalia faltered. He felt her hand drop from his leg. Hunter swept one arm back and managed to snag her forearm. She gripped him like a lifeline, quickly transferring her grip to his ankle as he kept going.
He couldn’t see shit. The exit had to be close now. He stretched his arm out to feel for the door, hit empty air. Pushing his trembling muscles onward, he made another sweep. Nothing. Fucking
hell
, where was that goddamn door?
Debris on the carpet dug into his elbows and belly. Khalia’s hand remained firm around his ankle, a constant reminder that she was counting on him to find a way out. He flung his right arm out again and this time his fingertips met the plaster of the end wall. Forcing his eyes open to slits in the dense smoke he reached up and found the metal latch on the door. God only knew what was waiting for them on the other side, but he couldn’t afford to hesitate. He was almost out of air.