Operation Christmas Contraband, Super Agent Romantic Suspense Series, Book 6 by Misty Evans

Author:Misty Evans [Evans, Misty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beach Path Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-10-26T18:30:00+00:00

Nine

Julia yelped—being the total FBI professional she was—and fell smack into Conrad’s chest, a bullet whizzing by her ear and shattering the speedboat’s windshield.

Adrenaline and training kicked in and her Beretta was in her hand before she straightened, facing backwards so she could aim at the dock. One, two, three, she fired at the figures standing there. Wait. Was that…?

The waiter from the hotel. She could just make out his features in the scant moonlight.

That bastard.

Her shots hit the wooden dock, the yacht, and something else, but still had the desired effect. All three shooters ducked for cover.

The seating area had little room. Marguerite tucked herself into a ball on one of the cushions. Ramon was half in, half out of the cargo hold. And Conrad…

The sky was inky black, the water, too. The only illumination came from the waning moon and a few bare bulbs strung along the dock. The latter bounced and swayed from the commotion, throwing odd shadows over Conrad as they sped deeper into the night.

But the black silhouette on Conrad’s neck was unmistakable. A dark stain was spreading quickly down to his shoulder and soaking into his cotton shirt. Blood.

Marguerite chose that moment to raise her head and reach for Ramon, who was still struggling to get out of the cargo hold. Julia shoved Marguerite’s back down, fired off an insurance round, then turned to Conrad. “You’re hit.”

His focus was on steering and continuing to evade bullets. Pretending he hadn’t heard her, even though she’d yelled over the engine noise, he touched the comm in his ear. “Pegasus, this is Solomon. We’re coming in hot. I repeat, this is a hot extraction.”

Lawson must have responded. Con grinned. “Roger that, Pegasus.”

The men on the dock continued to fire while still hiding, and they’d traveled far enough Julia could take her eyes off them. She touched Conrad’s neck, her fingers coming away wet with warm, sticky blood.

Her heart, already hyper with adrenaline, sledgehammered against her ribs. Everything in her went icy cold. Grappling for her tote on the floor under her feet, she yanked out her bikini top. She felt for one of the padded cups and placed it against Con’s neck.

He flinched. “What the hell are you doing?”

They hit a wave and for a second were airborne. Julia gripped his shoulder for support. “You’re bleeding.”

“Sit down before you fall overboard.”

He tried to brush her off, but she wrapped one of the straps around his neck and tied it “Shut up and let me take care of you.”

Ramon appeared in her line of sight. “Julia?”

“Not now.”

Marguerite grabbed her arm and yelled. “Julia!”

She cranked her head around to look at the woman. “What?”

Both Ramon and Marguerite pointed to a spot behind them and Julia’s heart did its sledgehammer routine once more. A vessel, bigger than their speedboat and just as fast, was running low across the water and gaining on them.

“Pursuers!” She counted the silhouettes she could see against the fading lights of the dock. “At least three. Closing in fast!” The outline of a machine gun emerged.

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