Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents #3)(32)
Author: Cynthia Eden

He’d actually felt the bullet rip right past his skin.

Now he was in the building, moving quickly but quietly, just the way his grandfather had taught him. The element of surprise was what he needed. If his prey was still inside, stupidly waiting for another shot…

I’ll get you.

But then Gunner heard the thunder of footsteps. His prey was running down the stairs. If he wanted to escape, the shooter had to take the stairs. The electricity in that place had been cut off weeks ago, and judging from where Gunner had seen that rifle glint, the man would have been up on the tenth floor.

That was a whole lot of stairs to take. And if the man was armed with just that rifle, he wouldn’t be able to aim that thing well as he ran down the stairs.

A grim smile curved Gunner’s lips as he started up the stairs. No rustle of clothing, no tap of his boots, no sound at all. Higher, higher, he climbed.

Those rushing feet came closer and closer.

Then he could see the man, his legs rushing fast down the steps.

“Freeze!” Gunner roared. He wanted this man taken in alive. He wanted to know why he was targeting Sydney—or, more likely—why the guy had been hired to take the shot at her. Would the boss risk getting his hands dirty like this? Out in public, with a limited means of escape? Doubtful, but Gunner would make this man turn on his boss.

The footsteps didn’t stop. Something heavy hit the stairs. A shot fired.

Ricocheted?

“I said freeze!” Gunner yelled. “Stand down! Stand—”

The man was running toward him. Gunner didn’t see a rifle. The guy was sweating. His eyes were wild as he brought up his hands. Gunner saw the handgun gripped in the man’s shaking fingers.

He’s not going to stop. The guy was desperate to escape, and he was about to shoot at Gunner. The man was ready to kill, in order to escape.

Gunner didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger on his own weapon.

* * *

WHEN SHE HEARD the sound of the shots—two shots, fired closely together—Sydney started running toward the James Fire Building. Her heart was racing fast, adrenaline burning in her blood, and she had to get to Gunner.

Cops were in front of her. Slowing her down. She wanted to shove them aside—so she did. Then she headed into the building with her gun up, ready to do anything she had to do in order to help Gunner.

She found him on the stairs crouched over a body.

Sydney didn’t lower her weapon. Her gaze swept over Gunner. No blood. No blood. No blood. The mantra repeated in her head until she could breathe normally again.

“He wouldn’t drop his weapon.” Gunner’s voice. Flat. She lifted her left hand, curled it over his shoulder.

The cops were there, fanning around the body. Gunner’s shot had been lethal, right to the heart.

The man’s eyes were closed. His body lay sprawled and twisted on the stairs.

“There’s a rifle, sir,” one of the cops said.

Sydney lifted her head. She saw the young, uniformed cop pointing up the stairs.

Gunner rose. “He ditched it when he came down the stairs. I heard him toss it. Then he…he pulled his backup weapon.”

Gunner hadn’t been given a choice. She understood, just as she understood that it was never easy to take a life.

Whether Gunner was following mission orders and taking out a threat through his scope or fighting an up close enemy, it wasn’t easy.

Never easy.

“Gunner?” she whispered, wanting him to look at her.

His head turned toward her. His eyelashes flickered. She knew Gunner wouldn’t show emotion here. She’d seen him do this before. He shut down after a kill. Withdrew.

That was the way Gunner worked.

“I wanted to take him in alive,” Gunner said softly. “I wanted to find out why, to find out who’d sent him.”

Because Gunner must think this was a hired killer, just like the mercenary who’d targeted the EOD agents before. She glanced back at the man. Early thirties, blond hair slicked with sweat. She didn’t recognize his face, had never seen him before.

The EOD would find out everything they could about him. They’d run down his fingerprints. Analyze the scene.

Her gaze flickered over him. There was a tattoo on the inside of the man’s wrist. A striking snake. They’d track that tattoo, too. They’d find out who this man was and why he’d been shooting at them.

Gunner still held his gun in his right hand. Sydney tucked her own gun into the waistband of her jeans, then she reached for his weapon. “It’s over now.”

But Gunner shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s just getting started.”

* * *

THERE WAS SO much blood on his hands. Gunner knew he’d never be able to wash all of that blood away.

He was in the EOD office. He’d been questioned, cleared, briefed. The cops had handed their investigation over to federal agents—FBI personnel who would report their findings back to the EOD.

“Gunner?”

He turned to see Sydney standing in the doorway behind him. There was worry on her delicate features.

“Are you okay?” Sydney wanted to know.

He wasn’t the one with a bullet in his heart. He should have tried for a nonfatal shot, but the man had been aiming his own weapon right at Gunner’s head. There hadn’t been time to do anything but fire. “I just killed our lead.”

She frowned, then shut the door. Then she was coming closer to him. “You just saved my life, that’s what you did.”

He didn’t speak.

“Why do you have such a hard time,” she asked him, tilting her head back to better study him, “ever seeing yourself as a hero?”

“I do my job, Syd. That doesn’t make me a hero.”

“It does to me.” She reached for his hands. The ones that had killed so easily before and, he knew, would again. He’d always been good at killing. “When I look at you, I see the man who saved my life today. The man who has saved me dozens of times in the field. You’ve saved so many. So don’t—” now an order snapped in her words “—ever see yourself as anything less, understand me?”

She stared up at him, her bright eyes telling him that he was good. That he was worth something.

The woman was going to tear him apart.

A knock sounded at the door then. Sydney still held his hands. She didn’t let go.

When the door opened and Slade stood there, Gunner wished she’d let go. He saw the flash of pain in Slade’s eyes, but his brother quickly schooled his expression.