Operation: Midnight Escape

“Leigh!”

 

 

Jake had been in a lot of tight situations in the years he’d been with the MIDNIGHT Agency. But nothing he’d experienced compared with the gut punch of terror that went through him at the sight of blood coming through her coat.

 

She was kneeling on the floor, grimacing as she climbed onto the seat. One look at her face and his stomach dropped into his shoes. She was pale. Too pale. And all he could think was that she was seriously injured and bleeding out right before his eyes.

 

“My God, are you all right?”

 

Not waiting for an answer, he leaned over and set his hand on her back. Panicked, he couldn’t stop staring at the amount of blood on her jacket, on his hand, a bright-red stain that was spreading. Oh, dear God, it had to be bad.

 

“Oh, honey.” Jake glanced back at the road just in time to keep the truck from veering into a ditch.

 

“Jake, I don’t think it’s bad.”

 

He didn’t believe it. Bullet wounds could be deceiving, especially once shock set in. Getting her hurt was the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t let happen.

 

Screwed it up again, didn’t you, hotshot?

 

The need to stop the truck and check her out, make sure she wasn’t badly hurt, tugged at him. But he knew the situation would become even more deadly if Rasmussen’s men captured them. A flat tire was only going to buy a small window of time. He intended to make the best of it.

 

“Where are you hit?” he asked.

 

“The back of my shoulder.”

 

He glanced at her. His stomach went queasy at the sight of the blood. Her blood. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy? Hot?”

 

“Scared spitless.”

 

“You’re going to be all right. I promise.” He gripped the wheel hard. “Are you hurting?”

 

“Starting to, but it’ll wait.”

 

He didn’t think so. “I’m going to find a place to pull over.”

 

“If you pull over, they’ll catch us.”

 

Taking in the falling snow, he almost smiled. “No, they won’t.”

 

It was nearly an hour before he found a suitable place to stop. Suitable being a relevant term. It was a deserted grain elevator outside Decatur, Illinois. Jake chose it because there was a covered pass-through where trucks were loaded with grain and weighed. It was out of sight from the road. Shelter from the storm. With a little luck, they might just survive the night.

 

He pulled the truck into the lot and drove to the pass-through and shut down the engine. Next to him, Leigh sat quietly. She’d remained calm and upbeat in the hour it had taken him to find the elevator. He knew she was trying not to worry him. But Jake saw the pain and worry etched into her features. And it tore him up inside because this was his fault.

 

Maybe he should have turned her over to MIDNIGHT instead of trying to handle it on his own. But he doubted even they could keep her safe. Rasmussen had hacked into the Witness Security Program database. Something Jake and everyone else had always considered impossible. If Mike Madrid had given up Jake’s location, could Jake really trust anyone within the agency?

 

The question nagged at him as he slid from the truck and opened the passenger door for Leigh. One look at her face and he knew she was hurting. That she was scared. He prayed the pale cast of her complexion wasn’t a sign of serious bleeding or shock.

 

“Come on, honey.” Before even realizing he was going to reach for her, she was in his arms.

 

“You don’t have to carry me,” she said.

 

“Better if you don’t move around too much until I assess that wound.”

 

Though it wasn’t yet five o’clock, it was nearly dark. Snow fell heavily from a brooding sky. The wind had picked up, and he could hear it howling throughout the old grain elevator. They needed shelter from the cold and wind and snow. He spotted the door to what had once been the office and headed toward it.

 

To his surprise the old door was unlocked. He pushed it open with a booted foot. A dusty counter stood to his left. Straight ahead, wood shelves warped with age lined the wall. A window with a crack straight down the center looked out over the drive-through where the trucks had once been loaded and weighed.

 

“Have the bellman bring our things around.”

 

He looked down at her, wondering if she were falling into delirium.

 

“That was a joke,” she said.

 

Jake didn’t laugh. “Can you stand?”

 

“Of course I can.”

 

Some of the color had returned to her face. Up until this moment he’d been too concerned about her physical condition to think about just how good she felt in his arms. But looking into the crystal blue of her eyes, the rightness of it struck him hard.