Shadow Men – 67 – Anders and Grant

"Scenic route, I take it," Grant commented as Anders made yet another turn onto a primarily residential street, driving the car which had been in the garage at the apartment building.

"Just making damned certain we're not being followed."

Grant did his best to hide the shudder that ran through his body. He was surprised when Anders reached across the car's console to pat his thigh.

"With a whole country to search I doubt he's zeroed in on our being here. I'm just being careful since it is his home territory."

"I understand."

"But it doesn't make you feel any better." Anders kept his eyes on where he was going—and his hand on Grant's thigh.

"I'll feel better when the papers are safely in her hands and not before."

* * * *

"How far away are we?"

"Two blocks." Anders stuck the parking garage sticker on the car's dashboard then got out. "We'll walk down."

Grant knew he meant to get out of the parking garage. It was a no-brainer they'd be walking to their destination once they got to the street.

They'd made it from the fourth level to the second when Anders suddenly grabbed Grant's arm and dragged him roughly between a car and a dark SUV. "Get down and stay down," he ordered even as he pulled his gun.

"It won't do any good, Anders," a voice called out. "You might as well give it up now and save a lot of car owners from filing insurance claims."

Anders remained silent. He pointed to the rear end of the SUV and Grant inched his way back. He heard something slide toward him and almost called out a warning before he saw a sheathed knife, which he quickly picked up, unsheathing it, gripping it in his good hand. It wouldn't do much good in a shoot-out but nonetheless it did make him feel better.

"Anders," the voice called out again. "All we want are those papers. Then you and Mr. Eastman are free to leave."

As Grant watched, Anders slithered under the SUV until he was out of sight. A cold calm enveloped Grant then. Carefully he moved between the front of the car parked next to the SUV and the garage wall. When he reached the car's far side he peeked out cautiously. A man's shadow darkened the space between that car and the one beside it. The man himself stood about a foot out from the cars, his concentration, as far as Grant could tell, on the SUV. He held a gun at his side.

Grant wondered what the chances were he could make it to the man before he knew he was there, figured it was ninety-nine percent likely he'd be spotted, and with infinite care made his way across the narrow gap until he was behind the next car, which, he realized, was parked in a corner beside the garage wall. With nowhere to go but forward he had no choice but to do so.

When he got to the end of the car he very carefully looked around it, praying the man's attention was still on the SUV. Do or die, or is that and die, he wondered when he saw the man's back was to him and prepared to stand and attack.

Three shots rang out in succession.