Page 103 of Iron Shield
The rifle came up. “Now.”
Jolie slid out, but not because she was cooperating. Stina could see it in the set of her shoulders, in the way she moved too slowly, forcing him to waste precious seconds. Stina followed, boots slipping on loose gravel and old snow as she climbed out onto the narrow shelf.
Below them on the main road, vehicles skidded to a stop.
Sierra!
Doors flew open. Men poured out, taking positions, rifles coming up.
“Drop your weapon!”
“Let them go!”
The men’s voices tore through the pass, sharp and commanding, and Stina’s heart kicked so hard it hurt. Rome was here. Archer too. They just needed a few more seconds.
The kidnapper shoved the rifle against Jolie’s back and hauled both women in front of him, using their bodies as a shield while he backed toward the helicopter. Stina risked a glance up the shelf and confirmed what she already knew—the rotors were turning faster now, the helicopter ready to lift.
He intended to shove them inside and fly away.
Jolie planted her feet and flat-out refused to move. Stina stood her ground right beside her.
“Walk!” he growled.
“No.” Jolie dug in harder.
Below them, Sierra held their fire.
At first Stina didn’t understand why.
Then she did.
Jolie stood directly in front of him.
Every angle put her in the line of fire.
One missed shot. One ricochet. One fraction of a second too late, and the bullet meant for him would hit her instead.
He knew it.
He was counting on it.
The realization hit Stina and Jolie at the same moment. She saw it in her friend’s eyes—the same cold understanding.
His whole body tightened with fury. He dropped the rifle enough to lunge for Jolie, his gloved hand wrapping around her throat as he slammed her against the rock face.
Stina launched herself at his side and started swinging, fists pounding at his arm and shoulder and anywhere she could reach. “Let her go!”
The men below were shouting now, voices overlapping in a roar, but nobody fired.
Nobody could.
The man turned his masked face toward Jolie, fingers tightening against her throat. “I need to know what you know,” he growled over the roar of the chopper.
Jolie was gasping, but her chin came up anyway. “Then you have a problem.”
The helicopter rotors thundered louder.
The man’s head snapped toward the sound, and that split second was all Archer needed.
