Jameson (In the Company of Snipers #22) - Irish Winters Page 0,43

had said this was her time to shine, and one little screw wasn’t going to stop her. Gripping the free side of the grate with both hands, she bent it outward at a ninety-degree angle, then extricated her ass and legs and scrambled to her feet. Her throat was drier than dirt by then, and her heart pounded, but she could do this.

Looking over her shoulder as she worked, Maddie bent the vent cover back into place, then lifted to her feet and flattened her back against the wall to keep from shaking. The way out lay directly across the floor from her. But some guy in the other room was growling a terse string of angry Gaelic that sent an icy shiver up her spine. Other loud male voices followed, their tones more agreeable. Mr. Tense-and-Gaelic had to be the boss, maybe Pops Delaney?

Maddie didn’t intend to stick around to find out. She could get herself killed, and she just plain didn’t have that kind of nerve. Jameson was the covert operator, not her. She was just admin. But tonight, he needed her help, and he was going to get it. Any minute now…

He’d create a distraction, and then she’d run and then…

A better idea sprang to mind. If he could create distractions, so could she.

Ducking quickly across the open kitchen doorway to the next room, she made it to the back door and was outside in seconds, her lungs pumping for air and her heart racing from too much adrenaline. She could do this. She could save Jameson. Wouldn’t he be surprised?

But she had to act fast. What to do, what to do? Several trucks and assorted cars were parked in the dirt outside the kitchen exit, under a dim yard light stuck way up high on a telephone pole. It gave her just enough light to see without being seen. Maddie prowled those vehicles carefully and quietly, looking for keys. She didn’t spend much time in any of them, afraid the dome lights might give her away. Finally. Bingo. Not only a set of keys, but a lighter, an unopened pack of cigarettes, and a ball cap. Those things might all come in handy, but she only took the keys and lighter.

More quick prowling earned her a loaded pistol hidden inside the driver’s side door pocket of a topless SUV, a tire iron from the open bed of a pickup, and a deadly looking knife in a nice leather sheath from the cab of the same truck. Until she’d joined The TEAM, she’d never shot a gun. But since all TEAM members had to certify at a nearby range, she’d learned plenty. Would’ve been better if she’d found an extra, loaded magazine to go with the pistol, but the gun would do for now. She racked the slide and chambered a round, prepared to be all she could be.

With heart-pumping speed, she retraced her steps and stabbed tires. All of them. Her dealings with Nash’s loan sharks had taught her well. Why flatten one when four ruined tires sent a scarier message?

Okay then. The night was warm and she was sweating up a storm. Before she went any further, she sheathed the knife and secured it in the waistband at her back. Setting the tire iron and pistol on the dirt beside her boot, she wrapped her hair into a long ponytail, tied it off with a couple strands of loose hair, and shoved it over her shoulder and out of the way. She pulled out the lighter. What these guys needed was a nice big bonfire, and…

Oh, look. A barn. If burning that down didn’t get them out of the house long enough for her to rescue Jameson, it would certainly raise an alarm among the neighbors and bring the fire department.

Keeping an eye on the rear door of the house, she skittered between the parked vehicles to the old barn with her assorted weapons. She hesitated just inside the open barn door until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The interior was dark, really dark. This had to be how Jameson felt every day, feeling his way around a pitch-black world.

At last, she could make out the wide, barren, wooden floor, a couple empty stalls to her right, and a big mound of hay piled against the back wall. No horses or cows, though. No farm equipment, either. Just a big empty barn and…

Whoa. A shiny limousine had been backed into the far-right