Read Online Morgan's Rescue by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online Page A

place," he growled, watching the numbers light up in sequence as the elevator rose.
          "Hector thought it would be safe."
          He sent her a derisive look. "You keep saying that."
          She glared at him. "He's been like a father to me. He's always been there for me."
          With a nod, Culver watched the doors open, then looked both ways down the hall before easing out of the elevator. "Stay behind me," he ordered.
          Pilar was mystified by his sudden caution. She was about to protest when she heard the slight click of a door opening behind her. Turning, she saw a man with a submachine gun step into the hallway from one of the rooms.
          "Look out!" she shrieked, shoving Culver to one side.
          Culver jerked around, his eyes narrowing. Two men in business suits charged out of a room not more than a hundred feet from them. Pilar was in front of him, her body a shield for his. Damn her! Dropping his suitcase, he grabbed her shoulder and hauled her toward the exit door fifty feet away, fingers tightened on the soft fabric of her dress as he literally threw her ahead of him. What was wrong with her, putting herself in the line of fire?
          Bullets pinged and snapped around them as Culver ducked and ran, pushing Pilar ahead of him. The machine guns had muzzle suppressors, muting the sound. Bullets stitched an angry path beside his feet, and Culver dug his toes into the thick carpet, hurtling forward, sending Pilar crashing against the wall. She cried out as she hit it, but Culver was already shoving the exit door open. Twisting, he jerked Pilar past him and into the stairwell.
          "Run!" he roared between ragged breaths.
          Still stunned from the impact, Pilar staggered backward, then caught herself. She saw the terror in Culver's eyes. Sagging against the cold, concrete wall, she dug in her purse and produced a small handgun.
          "Give it to me!" Culver yelled, holding out his hand, his shoulder against the door. At any moment, the henchmen would be upon them. "Get out of here. Run down to the first-floor exit!"
          Pilar tossed the gun to him, turned and started down the stairs on wobbling legs. Her breath was coming in sobs as she reached one landing then another. Though her hand was clenched on the cool metal railing, she nearly fell when she heard the rattle of gunfire above her. Where was Culver? Her mind spinning, Pilar realized she had to get to the rental car. It was still in front of the hotel, she was sure; but were the keys in it or had Culver pocketed them?
          She heard sudden heavy footsteps descending behind her. Culver. Or was it? Panic pushed her rapidly down the final staircase to the exit door and freedom. Gasping, she spotted the Buick and ran toward it.
          A car's brakes screeched as Pilar ran in front of the vehicle. The driver honked and cursed, but Pilar ignored him as she reached the rental car and jerked open the driver's-side door. Yes! The keys were still in the ignition! Getting in, she started the engine. Where was Culver? Was he hurt? Dying? Oh, Dios, please, get us out of this alive. . . .
          Pilar backed the car out just as Culver burst from the exit door. She honked, and he halted, turned and ran toward her, gun in hand. As he leapt into the passenger side, she jammed her foot on the accelerator, nearly ripping the door from his hand as he slammed it shut.
          "Get down!" he roared, his hand suddenly on the back of her head, pushing her below seat level. Bullets popped through the window, showering them with glass.
          Peering out, Pilar yanked the car into the traffic, weaving and accelerating at the same time. She was aware that Culver's hand had left her hair. He had twisted around, looking out the shattered rear window.
          "Keep going. Keep going. I don't see them."
          As much as she hated Lima because it was such a big city, Pilar had grown