Marcus joined her at the booth. “See anything?”
“Only one shooter. Looks like he’s perched on the top of the bank building across the street.”
“That’s a perfect vantage point for a sniper. He fired a lot of shots but didn’t hit anyone in the crowd. He must have been trying to create panic. Any chance he’s one of yours?”
“You mean CIA? No. No one from the Agency knew I was coming. I’ve been tracking you off the books.” She pulled out her phone and dialed 9-1-1. “Someone is shooting into Milo’s Diner on Main Street. We need police and ambulance response pronto.”
He jumped up, pushed the shotgun through the window and fired. Bethany fired, too, and the sniper stopped shooting for only a moment before Marcus spotted the red laser that indicated the assailant had turned on his targeting gear. It swept the area, trying to find its mark as Marcus and Bethany crept out of its range.
“We’re not going to stop him from here,” he stated. This all felt so natural and, once again, that struck him as odd. He’d done this sort of thing before. He was certain of it. He grimaced. If this sniper hadn’t showed up, he would already have the answers he needed from the pretty brunette. He clutched his gun. She knew him. She knew him. The idea both baffled and amazed him.
“We’ve got to go out there and stop him. We can go out the back then circle around the hardware store and climb up the back of the building.”
She nodded, agreeing, and he was glad because he was going to make sure they didn’t get separated. This Fed had the answers to the questions he’d been seeking. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Bethany followed him into the kitchen. The freezer door opened and Milo peeked out.
“Is it safe?” he asked. “It’s cold in here.”
Marcus waved him away. “Get back inside. Better to be cold than dead. The police are on the way.”
“And what are you two doing?”
“We’re going after the sniper. Keep everyone inside until they arrive.”
While some people had gotten away and he’d noticed the shooter hadn’t targeted them, it was too dangerous to allow anyone else out. They were better off staying in the freezer for now until the police arrived.
Marcus went out the back door and, crouching against the wall, followed the building to the front. He was hyperaware that Bethany was right behind him.
He cautiously glanced out and the sniper fired. He jumped back. “He’s got us pinned down. How many bullets do you have left in that gun?”
She pulled it to her in a protective manner. “Enough. Why?”
“You draw his fire. I’ll circle around the back of the hardware store and confront him.”
She frowned and he could see she didn’t like the thought of letting him out of her sight, but what choice did she really have?
Finally, after several long moments, she reluctantly nodded, but then obviously felt the need to clarify something. “You’d better not disappear again, Marcus. I found you once. I’ll find you again.”
He was certain she could but her worry was in vain. “I’m not going anywhere.” He’d come here to find answers and she was the first clue to his identity. He wasn’t going to run from her now.
She braced herself then started firing at the building. Marcus took off running, crossing the street then ducking into the hardware store. Mr. Bennett, the store’s owner, was hunkered down behind the counter.
Shouldering his rifle, Marcus told him to stay low as he hurried to the back, swooping up a rope from a shelf before exiting through the door. He quickly knotted the rope and then tossed it up the side of the building until it caught. He scaled the side of the building, all the while conscious of Bethany’s firing to keep the sniper engaged.
Good girl. Keep him occupied.
The rope burned into his hands but he didn’t stop. Hefting himself over the top of the roof, once again he was acutely aware of the fact that he’d done this before.
The scream of sirens wailed in the distance and Marcus knew the police would arrive soon enough, more likely new targets of the sniper’s aim. He needed to get over there and find out just who was shooting at them before further chaos erupted.
But he also needed to get back to the woman who held the answers to all his questions. You’ve brought me this far, Lord. You sent this Federal Agent with knowledge of my past to find me. Please don’t let anything happen before I can hear what she has to say.
He drew his gun and moved across the rooftop, every muscle on alert as he ran to the edge.
He scanned the rooftop quickly, spotting a rifle leaning against the wall, but the shooter was gone.
Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind, pulling something hard and tight against him. Marcus caught it with his hand, knowing that if the attacker managed to get this around his neck, he was done for. And everyone else down there would have to deal with this guy alone. He couldn’t allow that.
Marcus summoned more strength than he knew he had, reached back to grab the guy and then slung him across his shoulder. He hit the ground with a thud and a groan while Marcus scrambled to stay on his feet at the near loss of air supply.
Air Supply. He loved the band Air Supply.
He shook his head. Stop it and focus. Fight now. Answers later.
His attacker was dressed all in black, his face hidden by goggles and a sand scarf. It was a look familiar to Marcus; the guy resembled a bandit from the Old West. Marcus himself had dressed like that before for undercover work.
Unfortunately, his attacker didn’t stay down. He leaped to his feet, ready to attack again.
Marcus faced him, unable to shake the familiar look of him. He couldn’t see his face because of the sand scarf and goggles, but he knew the look, the stance, even the weapon of choice—a .300 Win Mag sniper rifle. Powerful and precise enough to shoot across a long distance. In other words, the perfect sniper’s rifle.
The masked figure lunged and Marcus engaged him, surprised to find he matched him move for move. He acted on instinct, the efforts coming naturally to him. He didn’t even have to think which move to make because his muscles seemed to know before his mind did. Finally, the assailant drop-kicked him and Marcus hit the ground and rolled. When he turned over to get to his feet, his attacker lowered his gun and held it to his head.
“You should have stayed dead, Marcus,” the clad figure stated.
But before he could shoot, another gun fired, this time from behind him. The bullet didn’t hit him but he jerked and spun around to face the new shooter from his spot on the ground.
Marcus spotted striking blue eyes belonging to none other than Bethany, the CIA agent, her weapon raised and firing. Man, she was gorgeous. The attacker hopped over the side of the building and vanished. She raced to the edge and looked over as Marcus crawled to his feet.
She turned back to him, irritation glowering on her face. “He’s gone.”
“Apparently so.” Marcus walked to the perch where the sniper had left his weapon and gear. He glanced through the scope. The diner had indeed been the target. But why and who had targeted them?
He heard the click of a gun safety releasing behind him. “Get away from that.”
He glanced back and saw Bethany with her gun now aimed at him.
“I’m just checking it out.”
“I said move away from it,” she insisted, so he did. If she wanted to play things her way then he would let her for now.
Lowering her weapon, she picked up the sniper rifle and glanced through the scope.
“The