Chapter 93

She seemed to know what she was going to do and how she was going to accomplish it, just like she did with her.

She finally caught her fist in her hand. Both of them gazed at each other, shocked.

Harper pushed her away.

Celine hadn't landed a punch, but her head was now throbbing.

Very intriguing.

Celine let go of her hand and turned around, sweeping her leg. Harper easily evaded her, expecting the move.

"You're insane," Harper grumbled.

"Whatever it is, I don't speak it," Celine explained. She found it intriguing that she didn't seem terrified of her.

It's also bothersome.

Harper clenched her hands. "I'm sorry, Celine, but I don't have time for this game."

Anthony stepped in. "Really? Because I have no time for all of this." He was the one who was now upset.

"Please leave Anthony alone," Celine said Harper. "I know you're looking for me."

Harper burst up laughing. Anthony, however, did not.

"Seriously? You? "Why would she be interested in you?" Anthony was slandered.

"Why is the FBI always looking for someone?" Celine researched Celine. "I noticed you. Today's the day. You had been following me."

"Don't overestimate yourself. "I was following him," Harper indicated to Anthony.

"I don't believe you," Isaac said again. "So let me say it one more time. Simply let him go."

"Please, please. I'm not the FBI. Don't offend me." Harper cocked her brow.

"Plus, I don't bargain with kids—so shove off, kid, before you injure yourself."

"Rude," Anthony exclaimed abruptly. "

"Do you not understand?"

"Me?" Celine appeared surprised.

"Tell him," Harper agreed.

Anthony scowled. "Actually, I meant both of you. I refuse to be saved. I'm not some helpless young man with a big giant target on his forehead. "I can take care of myself."

You have no idea how enormous that bullseye is, Harper thought.

"I didn't mean that," Celine insisted.

But, almost as if to emphasize the point, a shot boomed out across the rooftop a fraction of a second after Anthony spoke.

The bullet was less than a centimeter away from Anthony's right temple. Her rucksack was knocked off her shoulders by the second gunshot. The third clipped a tangle of Celine's wavy hair as it flew over her head. It fell to the earth with almost unreal slowness, like a leaf in the breeze.

Nothing else about the situation was sluggish. Harper pivoted in the direction of the shots, her pupils constricted as she estimated the trajectory of the rounds—

It's one o'clock. The top floor. Crossing the street. She dove forward, yanking Anthony down as hard as she could until they were both laying flat against the asphalt roof.

Celine appeared next to them almost immediately. "Wait a minute—"

He was responded with three more rounds.

"Sniper," Harper hissed, reaching for the bag she had retrieved from concealment moments before everything went to bad. She could feel her mind racing.

"He seems to have removed his silencer for increased range, which indicates he's at least a building or two away." She looked up, mentally calculating the figures. "He's cleared how many hundred meters? And striking the target within a half-inch? What about number five? Or how about point three?" She moved her head.

"Is that a bad thing?" Anthony inquired.

Harper was depressed. "That's bad for us. It's a difficult shot. So there you have it: a highly trained military marksman. A pro, most likely top dollar. I'd guess American—perhaps a Barrett. From the sound of it, 50 Cal."

"Are people shooting at us?" Celine was taken aback. "At a fencing competition?"

"Not us," Anthony stated softly. "Me."

His gaze locked on Harper's. "Doesn't he appear to be here?" He sounded as if he was struggling to breathe.

Harper raised her head. "I have my doubts." In the flesh, no." She gazed behind her, taking in the skyline across from the roof. "But this is most likely his person." "The profile is correct." Do you believe me now, kid? Is that authentic enough for you?

Thomas Miller has not forgotten about either of us. Thomas does not forgive and does not forget.

Natasha removed her sunglasses and flung them into the sky above them. A barrage of gunfire burst through the air in quick succession, shattering the glasses.

She exhaled a sigh. "Correction. His men, plural. He appears to have at least three on us."

"Whose people are these?" "Who exactly is he?" Celine's brow furrowed in rage. Natasha ignored her, scrutinizing a bullet hole in the cinderblock wall's damaged surface.

"Take a look at that. Anthony, congratulations. They brought out the big weapons, Desert Eagle 44 Magnum."

"What does that mean?" Anthony inquired.

"The Underground Society prefers the Desert Eagle for high-value targets." You're in high demand. Those shots aren't cheap, and Desert Eagles can eat through five layers of military body armor, so youngsters, keep your hands in the van."

"Can someone fill me in on this?" Snipers? High-priced targets? "What are you on about?" Celine dropped even lower, hitting her face against the asphalt as another gun rang out.

"I don't have time to explain. As I have stated, shove off, kid. You're not a part of this and don't want to be." Natasha examined a row of windows of a nearby bank building. She pulled two weapons from her backpack, a compact-looking automatic assault weapon and a submachine gun and slid toward the rooftop's low wall. "Stay put—"

Anthony, crouching low, nodded. Harper slithered past him.

Good. The boy is afraid, but he isn't showing it. Harper noticed Celine's hands involuntarily curl into fists, despite the fact that she had no one to use them against.

I understand, buddy.

He was rarely without a gun since she knew how frustrated she was. Or three: her assault rifle for actual gunfights, a submachine gun for more covert firepower, and her favored handgun for every situation. Even when she swapped her HK for a Glock, the weapon was always German. Just as Thomas had taught her.

That's why, as soon as she located him, she'd use it on him. She rolled toward the cliff in one seamless motion, reaching over her shoulder to remove the submachine pistol from her back strap.

"Let's get this started".

Harper started firing back without saying anything else. The fight to keep them safe was in her hands if she wanted them to escape to live another day.