Until Now - Delaney Diamond Page 0,1

found on those pages. He stuffed everything into the waterproof bag he lifted from inside his wetsuit, stuck it back in the suit and zipped up the front. That’s when he heard the door open.

“Don’t move,” a gravelly voice warned.

Dammit.

Cruz listened to the faint sound of footsteps coming toward him on the soft carpet.

“Who the hell are you!” the man demanded in a loud voice.

Worried that his raised voice would invite other guards to come investigate, Cruz decided to defuse the situation by calmly asking, “Can I turn around?” He slowly lifted his hands to show he didn’t have a weapon.

“Take. Your. Time,” the man warned.

Cruz heard the safety disengage from the gun and did just that—took his time—not wanting to make any sudden moves that could cause his trigger-happy opponent to shoot—accidentally or on purpose.

He turned and found himself face to face with the guard who’d stubbed out his cigarette. Dark-haired, he was about an inch taller than Cruz but not as wide, with a scowling face and shaved head.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked.

“Pablo didn’t tell you I was coming?” He needed to buy time, and bluffing helped him do that.

Right away, he guessed one thing about the man—he didn’t want to pull the trigger. The gunshot would be heard by the guests and questions would be asked. Which meant he’d try to detain Cruz and find out what the hell he was doing there. All of which worked in Cruz’s favor.

The guy frowned. “Pablo who?”

Not too bright, this one.

“You know Pablo. He works for Senator Peaslee.”

“There ain’t no Pablo.” Finally, he was catching on.

“Maybe I’m in the wrong place then. I should leave.”

His attempt at humor didn’t go over well. “No way.” The guy scowled and moved closer, holding his hand straight out and pointing the gun at the middle of Cruz’s chest.

Now he was in the perfect position for Cruz to disarm him. Attempting to grab someone else’s weapon was always a risky proposition, but he’d done it plenty of times. Wise men knew to remain at least a few feet out of reach so that if the victim moved quickly, you’d have time to fire off a round. Foolishly, the guard was standing too close.

Distract.

Grab.

Kill.

“You want to talk to Senator Peaslee about it? Go ahead, call him,” Cruz said, hands still raised in fake surrender.

As the guard hesitated, Cruz snapped the fingers of his left hand. That caused the other man’s eyes to shift toward the noise. Within that split second, Cruz snatched the gun and stepped out of reach.

The guard’s eyes widened, and he thrust his hands in the air.

“Never hesitate.” Cruz pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the middle of his forehead as the sound blasted through the room. The man’s head tipped backward, and he crashed to the floor.

Four minutes left.

He tossed the gun to the desk and dragged one of the guest chairs under the doorknob. That should slow down anyone coming to investigate the noise.

He closed the safe and replaced the painting. Hopefully they wouldn’t guess he’d accessed the safe and removed the video, thus taking them by surprise. Since he couldn’t go back the way he came, he lifted a window and swung onto the grass.

“Hey!” a voice yelled.

Two men in suits raced toward him. Cruz sprinted away from them, his long legs eating up the earth. The sound of handgun bullets cracked in the air. Clearly, they were no longer worried about disturbing the guests.

Several rounds whizzed way too close to his ear as he dodged and ducked in the dark, weaving a crooked line toward the water.

More voices yelling. There must be at least four of them now.

Taking a deep breath, he dived into the bay and sank to the shallow bottom, curling into the smallest ball his body could contort into as he pressed his back against the embankment. Bullets rained into the water from above, but he kept still. Depending on angle and velocity, the bullets could penetrate the water up to seven feet, so he didn’t want to move and risk getting shot.

He could hold his breath for six minutes but didn’t have that much time. He had three minutes tops to get out of there if he wanted to make the rendezvous location in time.

The men argued. Cruz remained still.

One minute. The voices moved farther away.

Two minutes. No more sounds. To be sure they were gone, he stayed put.

Three minutes.

Now he’d take a chance.

Cruz resurfaced under the pier and pulled air into