Read Online Hot Pursuit by Christina Skye - Free Book Online

takedown. High up in the window, Taylor took advantage of the distraction and kicked free, dropping forward out of sight, and as she did her captor spun around, shooting wildly.
    At the same moment the door to the rear loading area banged open, tear gas smoking through the corridor.
    Only seconds left, Jack thought. Taylor’s assailant scrambled toward the window, cursing and fighting his way up to the ledge, and Jack fired, putting three fast shots into the back of his head, ending the curses abruptly as the first cloud of tear gas billowed into the room.
    Â 
    â€œThere is the man I tell you about. He is
big
hero. He save my life, destroy that piece of dog meat before he can kill all of us.”
    The old Asian man came tottering in pursuit of Jack. He had some bruises from his ordeal but was otherwise unharmed, smiling broadly as he pumped Jack’s hand. “You Number-One Hero, mister. Should have medal for you.”
    â€œNo medal needed. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Jack muttered.
    The wrong place at the wrong time.
The last thing he needed was publicity during a mission.
    But the old man was having none of his modesty. “A hero,” he insisted. “Why they treat you like criminal and ask so many questions?”
    Jack shrugged. “The police have to do their job.”
    The clerk frowned at an officer in black body armor. “Is bad job. Stupid job.” He looked around the crowded parking lot. “Where is lady in leather jacket? Is she okay?”
    Luckily Jack hadn’t received a major dose of tear gas, and he’d made it his business to find out Taylor’s condition as soon as Izzy had checked in with the police. “A few cuts, but she’ll be fine.”
    The old clerk picked up Taylor’s purse and centered it on the counter. “Thanks to you.”
    Outside, the pregnant woman was being treated in an ambulance for stress. Rains was currently in the men’s room vomiting his guts out while two Federal agents waited outside, looking grim. Whatever happened, Rains was no longer Jack’s business but theirs.
    A SWAT officer motioned to Jack, his face expressionless. “We’ll need your weapon, sir.”
    â€œIn my waistband. Center of the back. Beretta.” Jack knew better than to go for the weapon himself. After guns were fired, police tended to get touchy.
    The officer moved carefully behind Jack and removed the Beretta. “You came on the scene while the robbery was in progress?”
    Jack nodded.
    â€œI suppose you have a permit to carry this.” The officer looked like he was trying to read something in Jack’s face.
    But Jack made sure there was nothing to read. “In my wallet. Back pocket.”
    The elderly clerk was listening to every word. “What you question
him
for? I have three guns—ask for
my
papers. Go on, arrest me first.”
    The SWAT officer paid no attention, calmly flipping open Jack’s wallet and scanning the ID. “Jack Broussard. Civilian consultant, stationed at Monterey.”
    Jack nodded. The ID was fiction, but damned good fiction. “You can contact my superior for confirmation, sir.” Jack rattled off the nonsecure mission HQ number and a contact name.
    â€œYou took down three men in less than three minutes, Mr. Broussard. You got off three head shots in a tear-gas situation, with limited control and visibility.” The officer’s eyes held curiosity and just a hint of respect.
    â€œI do some target shooting on occasion.” Jack didn’t mention that he’d gone hunting in far worse conditions. He knew his window of exposure for the tear gas, and there had been time to spare before he was incapacitated.
    â€œWe’ll need to take a statement, Mr. Broussard. If you’ll follow me, we can handle that right now.”
    Jack nodded, noticing that the officer hadn’t given him back his wallet. Probably a deeper