Page 152 of Smoke Screen
And then it all made sense. Maddening, brilliant woman attempting to draw the guard from the door where the truck was parked. All so Phin and Zeke could smuggle the safe out.
Hauling ass, he stormed by the next row, glancing to the opposite end as he went. No Maddy.
Next row.
No Maddy.
Where the hell was she?
Row after row and no Maddy.
“Please!” Maddy yelled. “Put the gun down. I needhelp!”
And whoa. Did the guarddrawon her? If that asshole pointed a gun at Maddy, he’d pound the fucking daylights out of him.
Phin kept running. Despite the pumping AC, annoying sweat beaded on the sides of his face and the back of his neck, dripping down his spine.
Row nine. No Maddy. He had to be getting close. He hauled by row ten, swung his head right and …
Maddy.
Hooking the turn late, he plowed into a stack of boxes that didn’t budge. Not one inch. Not half an inch. Whatever was in those suckers had weight.
He pushed off, righted himself, and focused on Maddy at the end of the row, her hands in the air, but no guard in sight. Probably blocked by the end cap.
But, in front of her? Or behind.
Zeke was right. Flying blind. It’d be a miracle if they got out of this.
And he’d been short on miracles this week.
If the guard showed himself, Phin had a target to pounce on.
“Kelly!” Phin yelled, not about to use her real name.
The guard swung around the end cap, automatic rifle raised and aimed in Phin’s direction.
Phin halted, ripped his gun from his holster and pointed it at the guard. “Gun down!”
Classic standoff.
Helluva way to die.
“No!” Maddy said.
Beading sweat grew to a waterfall, all of it pouring down his face and neck, spilling into the collar of his shirt. He ignored the urge to wipe it away, concentrating on the guard.
Would this guy shoot him?
Given that he worked for the Veras, probably.
A flash of movement drew his gaze right. Maddy. Arms extended, body in midair, diving toward the guard.
“No!” The word tore from him like jagged glass carving his throat.
His feet moved, pounding against the hard concrete as Maddy crashed into the guard, knocking him sideways against the stacked boxes. A round of shots went off, one of them—ping!—ricocheting off one of the shelf’s steel supports and whizzing by Phin’s shoulder.
Jesus! His heart banged, the pressure damn near fracturing his ribs.
