Caribbean Rescue (Coastal Fury Book 16), Matt Lincoln [best book recommendations .txt] 📗

they were out cold. One other man I didn’t recognize was down as well. He must have been one of the other traffickers.

Standing further down the hallway, a few feet away from the strewn bodies and in front of an open doorway, were Olivia and Daniela. Behind them, several women were cowering in fear, and in front of them were two other men, their guns drawn and pointed directly at them. The other two officers were further down at the far end of the hall, their weapons pointed at the two suspects. They were all locked in a tense standoff.

One of the suspects turned at the sound of the door being opened as Holm and I burst in. The moment he did, one of the other officers, Grayson, took advantage of the distraction and fired his gun at him.

Unfortunately, it missed the man and struck the wall just behind him. He roared with anger and spun on the man as he fired his own weapon. His aim was more accurate, and Grayson was knocked backward as the bullet hit him.

I lifted my own gun and rushed forward, but just as I did, Daniela began to usher the women toward the stairs. In their panic, some of them ran directly into my path, inadvertently blocking my shot.

The other suspect realized what was going on and quickly lifted his gun toward the fleeing women.

“No!” Olivia screamed. She ran forward just as the man pulled the trigger, only barely managing to push Daniela out of the way. Unfortunately, in doing so, she put herself directly in the bullet’s path instead.

She let out a short, strangled cry of pain as the bullet tore through her arm. I saw red as I watched her fall to the ground and lifted my gun again, firing it three times directly at the man who had just shot her.

He groaned with pain as he fell back against the wall behind him. He struck the back of his head before crumpling to the ground. The other suspect turned around at the sound of his friend’s yell. He tried to lift his gun again, but before he could, he was tackled to the ground by Hanks, the only other officer still left standing.

Daniela had turned around in horror when Olivia had pushed her out of harm’s way, but as soon as the suspect was down, she'd focused her attention on getting the girls down the stairs and to safety.

I rushed to check on Olivia. As I ran to her, I kept telling myself that the bullet had only hit her arm, that she’d be okay. I pointedly ignored the nagging voice in the back of my head that reminded me that even a bullet to the arm could be fatal if she was unlucky enough to have been hit in an artery.

To my relief, she was completely conscious when I reached her.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I gently helped her sit up.

“That stupid little--!” she hissed as she pressed her hand to her injured arm. It came away slick and red with blood. “Ugh. He got me good. So much for not straining my arm.”

I realized only then that he’d managed to shoot her almost in the exact same spot that the antique shop owner had a few days earlier. Seeing the injury made my blood boil all over again, and if the guy wasn’t already bleeding out on the ground, I might have been tempted to shoot him again.

“How are Daniela and the rest of the girls?” she asked me through gritted teeth. Of course, even with a bullet in her arm, they would be her priority.

“I’ll go check on them now,” I replied as I got back to my feet. I was reluctant to leave her, but getting the victims to safety was most important right now.

As soon as I stood up, I heard Hanks shout behind me. I turned around and found him on the ground, out cold. The suspect that he had tackled had somehow managed to get the upper hand and was now standing over the officer, his gun drawn and ready to fire.

“No!” I yelled to distract the man as I pulled my own gun.

Just as I’d hoped, the suspect turned his attention from Hanks and onto me. I fired my gun, but the man dodged, and my shot missed. He lifted his own gun and pulled the trigger, but the gun just clicked uselessly. The man stared down at the weapon in disbelief, pulling the trigger again and again to no avail.

I saw my chance and rushed forward. He was so distracted by his gun that he didn’t see me coming until I was already upon him.

I punched him hard across the face. Usually, a blow like that to the head would have been enough to render most men unconscious. The suspect, however, bounced back surprisingly quickly and answered my punch with one of his own.

I lifted my arms just in time to block his strike. The man was tougher than he looked, and faster.

He tried to punch me again, but I sidestepped the blow, causing him to lose his balance as he thrust forward. I took advantage of this to kick him hard in the stomach, his own forward momentum working against him.

He wheezed as the kick knocked the wind out of him, and, not wanting to give him the chance to recover, I reeled back to punch him in the face again. I felt a satisfying crunch as my fist collided with his nose.

However, I was shocked when the man regained his footing and let out a guttural roar at me, despite the blood now gushing from his nose. He lunged toward me, but it was clear by the way he stumbled that his injuries were starting to affect his performance.

He grabbed my arm, but I shook him off and delivered another punch to his face, this time hitting him directly in the eye.

Finally, he let out a short, pained