Oh, dear God, no!
Acting on impulse, she thrust the heel of her hand at the pistol. The barrel shifted and the gun exploded inches from her ear, deafening her. As if in slow motion Madrid aimed his palm-size weapon at the man. Another loud crack rent the air. The man’s body went rigid, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat.
The next thing Jess knew she was lying on the floor, trying to catch her breath. Her ears were ringing, her body felt as if it had been run over by a tank and she couldn’t stop shaking.
“Easy.” Strong arms pulled her to her feet. “Didn’t mean to hit you with that.”
Madrid, she thought dazedly, and reached for him. “What happened?”
Setting his hand against her cheek, he ducked his head and met her gaze. “You got your feet under you?”
Jess hadn’t quite decided, but she nodded. “What is that in your hand?”
He brandished the small object. “Mini stun gun.”
The weapon was the size of a garage door opener. Judging from the three men laid out on the floor, it packed a hell of a lot more punch. “You hit me with it?”
“Current went through the goon and into you.” He rubbed his thumb against her cheek. “I’m sorry about that.”
If she hadn’t been so shaken, so terrified, Jess might have been angry; she might even have laughed. At the moment all she wanted to do was get out of there.
“Where on earth did you get it?” she asked.
“It was in Angela’s bag of tricks.”
“Pretty high-tech.”
“And then some.”
The sound of footsteps punctuated the statement. Madrid looked over his shoulder, his expression turning grave. “We’re going to have to split up.”
“No.”
Grasping her arms, he gave her a gentle shake, his gaze seeking hers. “Listen to me, Jess. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
The last thing Jess wanted to do was split up, but her instincts told her to trust Madrid. Maybe because she knew he was the kind of man who would sacrifice himself to keep her safe. At the moment she didn’t know if that was good or bad.
Grabbing his pistol from the floor, he chambered a bullet and handed it to her. “It’s ready to go. Use it if you need to. Don’t trust anyone but me.”
Without giving her time to debate, he spun her around, shoved her in the direction from which they’d come. “Run. Get back on deck, then get off the ship any way you can.”
Jess risked a look back at him. He’d started in the direction of the footsteps. “You can’t walk right into the lion’s den,” she said.
He grinned. “The lion’s den is my specialty,” he replied, and disappeared down the darkened hall.
THE CORRIDORS CREAKED like the underbelly of some ancient, arthritic beast. Jess’s sneakers pounded against the steel floor as she ran down the corridor. At some point flashing red lights had come on as if to signal some kind of emergency—or, in this case, a security breach.
She ran as she had never run before. Terror followed her every step of the way. She could hear her breaths echoing off the walls. She passed several hatches, but couldn’t remember which one she and Madrid had entered. She was afraid to stop. Afraid the men with guns would find her and kill her…or worse.
Run. Get back on deck, then get off the ship any way you can.
Madrid’s words reverberated inside her head. If only she could remember how to reach the deck.
Another corridor veered right. Jess stopped, vacillated. She tried hard to remember if they’d come that way, but couldn’t. She wasn’t familiar with the ship’s layout. In the flashing lights, everything looked the same. In the back of her mind she wondered how Madrid was faring.
Behind her, the sound of leather soles against steel sent her heart into her throat. Down the hall. Too close for comfort. Jess took the corridor, threw herself into an all-out sprint. All the while she could hear the footsteps getting closer, the men gaining on her.
She passed another corridor, ducked into it without forethought and found herself in a stairwell landing. Steel grid steps led down and up. She went up, taking the steps two at a time. Somewhere behind her a hatch slammed and shouting echoed all around her.