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yanked him back as the bullets plowed into him.
    Hell. Jonas wanted to hit something all over again. How many kids had he seen die? For nothing. For power or money or somebody else's ideology. His vision blurred and he touched his face, shocked when his fingers came away wet. He was too damned old for this. What was he doing?
    Jackson dropped a hand on his shoulder, and they both halted, crouching low. "You can't save them all," he reminded him quietly.
    Jonas didn't respond. Hell, no, he knew that, but he should have been watching out for Terry. He was weary of death and ugliness, of the mess people made of the world. And he was damned tired of running. "You sure on the count?"
    "I saw four, but they aren't the ones behind us. I'm only hearing two and they aren't very quiet, definitely not Karl or the Gadiyan brothers. We've got two others circling around trying to get in front of us. I think the big guns are pulling out and leaving the expendables behind."
    Jonas checked the loads in his gun. "Why would they do that?"
    "They tore up the hospital. Someone had to have called the cops," Jackson said as they rounded a corner. He stopped running and signaled Jonas to keep going.
    A bullet hit the wall behind them and plaster rained down on them. Both hit the ground rolling for cover. Jackson went to the left and managed to lie flat behind a low wall of bricks, and Jonas crawled his way through a thin hedge to crouch behind a small outcropping on a utility building.
    "Did you see where it came from?" Jackson asked, his gaze coolly quartering the surrounding area.
    "Nope. But I think he was above us from the angle of the shot." And that wasn't good. The shooter would have better vision.
    "My thoughts exactly. Cover me." Jackson scooted fast along the brick wall, until he came to a small opening. "Ready?"
    Jonas took his gun in a two-handed grip, finger on the trigger. "Go." He kept his eyes on the roof of the small utility building.
    Jackson was up and over the wall, avoiding the opening, but diving into a hedge that lined the narrow walkway right beneath the building where they were certain the shooter hid.
    Jonas kept his gun steady, finger taking up the slack. A flash of movement above their heads and he pulled the trigger, a steady, one-two-three barrage of shots. A body teetered for a moment and then tumbled from the roof, gun landing on the metal and sliding down to the ground.
    Jonas kept his weapon trained on the shooter, moving up to check for a pulse even as gunfire erupted to his left. He saw Jackson roll and come up firing. The second man was caught in the throat and went over backward, blown off his feet to lie facedown in the dirt.
    "We may have company," Jonas said. "There are still two of them out there."
    "I'll do a quick recon and make a call," Jackson said. "Can you identify either of them?"
    "Definitely Boris Tarasov's soldiers," Jonas replied. "I've seen this one in the mug shots a dozen times. He's all over the war room next to Duncan's office."
    With two of the mobsters and the worst of the bunch, the Gadiyans and Karl, still unaccounted for, Jonas wasn't taking any chances, sinking back into cover while Jackson went up onto the roof tops to try to make the call for backup. Duncan had a lot to answer for. Sending them in blind as if they were a couple of rookies was bull. More importantly, someone close to Duncan had betrayed them.
    "I called it in," Jackson said, returning. "Duncan's sending a team to mop up and get us out of here. There's no sign of the other two. He said to stay out of sight."
    "You mean stay away from his team?"
    "That's what I understood."
    Jonas muttered an obscenity and then crouched a distance from the bodies, sending out a silent call.
Hannah? You okay
? He knew what it cost her to expend so much energy.
    A soft breeze kept leaves on the trees fluttering, but she didn't answer. His chest tightened. "So do you think she's all right?" Jonas asked. "I've tried connecting with her, but