Miss No One, Mark Ayre [romantic love story reading .TXT] 📗

The shockwave would spread in all directions, flattening the grass and knocking over anyone in the near vicinity. The tube building wasn't close enough for the wave to effect it, but Abbie was still smacked by shock.

Ana had been in that car. Had she escaped in time or died acting as Abbie's decoy?

If the latter, Abbie would struggle under the guilt of that outcome, but there was no way to know here and now. If guilt was to crush her, let it do so after she had brought Isabella and Ndidi home safely; killed the Beckers as a bonus.

Forcing aside concerns for Ana, Abbie moved up the corridor towards the target door. When she arrived, she put her back to the door opposite and aimed her pistol at the stained wood ahead.

The layout of the building suggested the door opened onto the far right wall of the room. It opened inwards, so Abbie would burst in and turn left, putting the wall at her back. The siblings would be armed. Abbie would have to pick them out and kill them in two seconds, with two shots. If she missed, one of them would kill her; if she hesitated, one of them would kill her. On the other hand, too much focus on speed could result in her putting a bullet in a hostage rather than a hostile.

And of course, even if everything went according to plan, she might still be shot, she might still lose the father or his daughter.

Fearful of all that could go wrong but loaned confidence by memories of many previous and similar scenarios she had successfully navigated, Abbie took a breath and prepared to enter.

The door swung open.

Abbie found herself face to face with Ndidi, behind whom was a shocked Rachel, her gun to his back.

Despite the trauma he had suffered and in which he was still mired, Ndidi was the first to react. Before the door was all the way open, he'd hit the deck. Leaving Rachel and Abbie facing off, both with raised guns.

Rachel registered Ndidi's move, Abbie's gun. Perhaps prison had dulled her reflexes because she was neither the first nor the second to adapt and react to this surprising turn of events.

Abbie fired without moving her gun. No time for that. Luckily, Rachel filled the door frame. Abbie's first bullet smashed into the middle Becker child's chest, driving her back.

As Rachel staggered, Abbie raised her gun, aimed for the head, and put a second bullet right between the escaped prisoner's eyes.

Forty

Ears ringing, bones trembling, Winston rolled. Fighting the pain, the swimming vision, the pounding headache, he forced his arms beneath his body and pushed. Somehow, he made it onto his knees. Now, he was staring into the flaming wreckage of the box-shaped car Abbie had tried to race down the runway.

She had to be dead, didn't she?

Despite swaying a little, even when propped on his knees, Winston managed to climb to his feet. Almost at once, he thought he would fall, but he was a man of incredible resolve and determination. He told his legs not to give out. Like everyone else, his legs feared him, and they obeyed.

Winston took two tentative steps. Black smoke billowed around him, and when he took a deep breath, he followed up with a hacking cough. Despite this, he felt better with every foot he progressed.

His shotgun had flown from his hands in the shockwave. He found it a couple of metres from where he'd fallen. He checked it over. Good working order. Loaded. Not a problem.

Nearby, Winston saw Moore. Despite being further from the car when the engine exploded, Moore was still as a corpse on the ground while Winston was standing. It looked as though the blast had hauled the corrupt DS into the air, and he had landed awkwardly on his head. Winston didn't know if the cop was dead and didn't care.

But so long as he was out of action...

The ringing in his ears was growing quieter, and as it did, another sound replaced the annoying flatline—a roaring. At first, Winston thought the noise was internal, another result of the explosion. Then he realised it was coming from above, and he realised what Moore's unconsciousness meant for Becker's precious escape.

Looking up, he saw the source of the sound as the plane whizzed overhead. He watched it pass the watchtower and carry on, climbing as it went, fast turning from a plane to a speck on the horizon. The sound of its engine grew fainter and fainter, and the spec disappeared.

Moore hadn't turned on the runway lights nor radioed to update the pilot on the situation. As a result, the pilot had considered landing too risky. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Not tonight anyway.

The meticulously planned escape was finished.

The plane out of earshot, the ringing down to a buzz, Winston had no trouble hearing the gunshots from the tube-building.

Maybe Abbie wasn't dead after all.

Orion just couldn't catch a break.

Orion roared with despair and fury.

As Rachel crumpled, Abbie stepped over Ndidi into the room, her arms rotating until she had Orion in her sights.

Grief and rage had not paralysed or even slowed Orion's reactions. Even as his sister's life left her body, the senior Becker child was crossing the room. As Abbie entered, he was grabbing Isabella around the throat. By the time Abbie trained her gun on the crook, he had his weapon pressed to the child's skull.

"Stop where you are and drop the gun," said Orion. "You know what happens if you don't."

The eldest Becker's voice was half delirious and had taken on a strange pitch. Abbie determined not to let her fear for Isabella, caught in the hands of this deranged man, affect her own voice. She remained calm.

"Don't be a fool, Orion. It's done. Game over."

Orion was shaking his head as Abbie spoke, each rotation becoming more exaggerated and aggressive until it looked as though his neck might snap.

"Something tells me this