The Lost Few
Several decades ago, a former C.I.A. Agent, Mel Greenstone convinced high ranking U.S. officials to draft orphans and young criminals to become trained assassins. That worked until Agent Laura Black’s team fought back and destroyed them.
It has been one year since they broke away from the evil clutches of the dark Secret Intelligence Unit (S.I.U.) and watched Greenstone go to prison. The team now has one desire—to live a normal life—and they could, if they were not constantly looking over their shoulders.
When Laura receives word there may still be another S.I.U. shell company nearby, they decided to break into their offices and steal Intel to work toward their goal. That decision will cause a chain of events that will cost lives and take them on a journey from Northern California to the United States Capitol—from heartache to new lives.
“Get down,” Myers yelled as he vaulted behind a metal cabinet. The office windows exploded into shards of glass. Several pelted his bare forearms and face. He blocked out the sting to find where his girlfriend landed.
Denise had dropped under a desk. Several bullets pelleted the leather chair behind it. “We’re completely surrounded. Where’s Laura?”
Myers pitched a stapler at the gunman. It smacked against his forehead. The burly man yelped and stumbled back. He growled and swung the submachine gun back toward Myer’s position, spraying bullets against the cabinet.
Not good. Myers pressed back desperately against the concrete wall. His empty pistol clanked to the floor. He glanced back to Denise.
Her brown eyes darted around room in frantic desperation. “She should be here by now. We’ve got to go!”
He pulled his line of site from her and surveyed the corporate office. Behind them was a three-story drop to the parking lot. Not many options. “Got a rope?”
“Network cable?” Denise yanked a blue wire and held it in the air.
The barrage of bullets ceased.
The gunman unclipped the magazine from his gun and went to reload a fresh one.
No hesitation. Myers toppled the heavy steel cabinet onto him.
The man buckled under it.
Now to get out of here. Myers eyed the same network cable running the length of the carpet by his left foot. He tugged hard, and the cord snapped free on his end. He tied it around the desk leg and jerked the cable. The knot held. Perfect. “Toss a computer out the window, and we’re outta here.”
With a nod, Denise complied and lobbed the monitor through the already broken window. The remaining glass rocketed in shards toward the bushes below.
More bullets flickered across the space from the bloodied gunman who had somehow freed himself.
Myers ran for her position and tackled her out the window, holding nothing more than her and the wire. Gravity pitched them back toward the building. This is going to hurt. He tensed as they smashed violently against the second-story window. Its stubborn frame sent pain through his arm, the glass remaining completely intact.
In unison, the couple let go and dropped to the clump of bushes below. Sticks shoved into his side and legs. Ignoring the damage, Myers dragged himself from the bushes with Denise and said, “Keep moving.”