Page 64 of Locked and Loaded

The words were quiet and uncomplicated, and she wasn't entirely sure why they affected her as much as they did.

John wandered back in carrying three mugs. He handed one to Lennox, one to Dragan, and kept the third for himself. "So," he said, leaning a hip against the bench. "Which one of you wants to explain why half the city appears to be trying to kill you?"

Lennox looked at Dragan. Dragan looked at his coffee.

"It's a long story."

The man smiled. "They usually are."

Glancing at his watch, Dragan grimaced. “We should go.” He finished his coffee, set the mug aside, and stood.

His friend nodded. "I figured you'd say that." He walked them outside to a dark gray SUV parked beside the warehouse and wagged a finger at Dragan. "This one comes back without bullet holes."

"I'll do my best."

"I'm serious," John admonished.

"So am I."

The older man looked at Lennox. "Take care of him."

She blinked. "I thought he was taking care of me."

He smiled knowingly. "That's what he thinks too."

Before she could come up with a response, he stepped back and slapped the roof of the SUV. "Get out of here before whoever's chasing you figures out where you disappeared to."

Dragan opened the passenger door for her. She hesitated for only the briefest moment before climbing inside, and as he walked around to the driver's side, she found herself watching him. He moved a little more carefully now than he had an hour ago, the wound in his arm clearly bothering him despite his determination to pretend otherwise.

For the first time since she'd met him, she realized something she hadn't allowed herself to consider. He wasn't invincible. He simply behaved as though he had no choice but to be. Something about that realization settled unexpectedly deep inside her, and she wasn't sure she liked what it meant or why it mattered at all.

Dragan pulled the SUV out of the warehouse lot and onto the empty street. They drove in silence for several minutes, the city still asleep around them. Lennox stared out the window at the darkened shops and shuttered cafes, her mind churning.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked. She was still out of sorts, and the silence was rubbing on her last nerve.

Dragan steered around another corner without answering.

"Dragan. Where are we going?"

“East.”

"Okay, but shouldn't we be heading toward some way out of Morocco? What is your plan?"

"I have a place for us to go."

"Yeah, well, the last place didn't go so well." She gestured vaguely behind them in the general direction of the riad and everything that had happened there. "Maybe we should head toward the water, catch a boat over to Spain. I have a helicopter reserved for later today. We can use that."

He didn't answer, but he kept moving down the street. Lennox pulled up the city on the GPS mounted to the dash.

"Okay," Lennox said, leaning forward to study the screen. "I think if we head here⁠—"

"Lennox, we're not heading to the heliport, nor are we heading to the ferry or any other seaport."

He glanced over his shoulder, then at the rearview mirror.

"Are they following us?" Panicked, she whipped around in her seat, scanning the empty street behind them.

"I'm just being cautious."