Just as he had before.
“South side,” that same voice whispered in his ear. Male. Gunner Ortez, the SEAL sniper Uncle Sam had recruited for their black-ops division. A division most said didn’t exist.
They were wrong.
“Second door,” Gunner said, voice flat and hard as he marked the target location.
Finally, Logan moved. A shadow in the night, he didn’t make a single sound as he slipped into the building. To his right, Jasper Adams moved in perfect sync with him. The Ranger knew how to keep quiet just like Logan did. After all their training, stealth was second nature to them now.
Logan came up on the first guard, caught the scent of cigarettes and alcohol. One quick jab, and the guard’s body slumped back against him. He pulled the guy into the shadows, dropped him in the corner and signaled for Jasper to keep moving.
Then he heard her scream.
The blood in Logan’s body iced over. For a second, his vision seemed to go dark. Pain, fear—he could hear them both in Juliana’s scream. He rushed forward, edging fast on Jasper’s heels. Jasper knocked out the next guard, barely pausing.
Logan didn’t pause at all. He drew out his gun and—
“Please, I don’t know!” It was Juliana’s desperate voice. The voice he still heard in his dreams. Not soft with the South now, but high with terror.
They passed the first door. The second was just steps away. Hold on, hold on …
“Company!” Gunner’s terse warning blasted in his comm link. They barely had time to duck for cover before the rat-a-tat of gunfire smashed into the wall above them.
Made. Logan fired back, once, twice, aiming with near-instant precision. He heard a choked cry, then the thud of bodies as two men hit the ground. Jasper covered him, moving quickly, as Logan kicked open lucky door number two. With that gunfire, the men inside would either flee …
Or try to kill their prey.
Option number two damn well wasn’t going down on his watch.
But as Logan burst into the room, three men turned toward him. He fired at the guy on the left as the man drew his gun. The guy’s body hit the floor. Then Logan drove his fist into the face of the attacker on the right. But the one in the middle … the one with his knife pressed against Juliana’s throat …
Logan didn’t touch him. Not yet.
“Deje a la mujer ir,” Logan barked in perfect Spanish. Let the woman go.
Instead, the soon-to-be-dead fool cut her skin. Logan’s eyes narrowed. Wrong move.
“Vuelva o ella es muerta,” the guy snarled back at him. Step back or she’s dead.
Logan didn’t step back. He’d never been the type to retreat. His gaze darted to Juliana. She stared at him, eyes wide, body frozen. A black ski mask covered his head, so he knew she had no idea who he was. But Logan knew she’d always had a real fine grasp of the Spanish language. She understood exactly what the man had said to him.
“Step back.” Her lips moved almost soundlessly. “Please.” Then she repeated her plea in Spanish.
Still, he didn’t move. Beneath the ski mask, his jaw locked. He kept his gun up and aimed right at her attacker’s head. One shot …
“Vuelva o ella es muerta!” Now the guy yelled his warning and that knife dug deeper into Juliana’s pale throat.
Instead of backing up, Logan stepped forward. Juliana screamed—and then she started fighting. Her nails clawed at her captor’s hand, and she drew blood of her own. The guy swore and yanked back on her hair, but that move lifted the knife off her throat. Lifted it off just enough for Logan to attack.
He caught the man’s wrist, wrenched it back. Even as Logan yanked Juliana forward, he drove the guy’s wrist—and the knife—right back at the bastard’s own throat.
When the body hit the floor, Logan didn’t glance down. He pulled Juliana closer to him and tried to keep her attention off the dead men on the floor. “It’s all right,” he told her, attempting to sound soothing in the middle of hell. More gunfire echoed outside the small room. The sound was like the explosion of fireworks. The voice in his ear told him that two more men had just been taken out by Jasper. Good. The guy was clearing the way for their escape. Logan’s hands tightened on Juliana, and he said, “I’m gonna—”
She kneed him in the groin.
Logan was so caught off guard by the move that he let her go. She lunged away from him, yelling for all that she was worth.
“Damn it,” he growled and hissed out a breath, “I’m not here to hurt you!”
She’d yanked the knife out of the dead man’s throat. She came up with it clutched tightly in her white-knuckled grip. “You stay away from me!”
“Easy.” They didn’t have time for this. Logan knew that if he yanked up his mask and revealed his identity, she’d drop the weapon. But he had mission protocol ruling him right then. Their team was to stay covered during this rescue, until the target had been taken to the designated safe zone. No team member could afford to have his identity compromised at this site. Not until everything was secure.
“Back up and get out of my way,” Juliana snapped right back at him, showing the fire that had first drawn him to her years ago.
He hadn’t obeyed the dead guy. Did she really think he’d obey her?
But then Jasper leaped into the room at the same instant that Gunner barked on the comm link, “Extraction. Now.”
Logan caught the whiff of smoke in the air. Smoke … and the crackle of flames. Fire wasn’t part of the extraction plan.
“Two hostiles got away,” Jasper grunted, shifting his shoulders, and Logan wondered if he’d been hit. He’d seen the Ranger take three bullets before and keep fighting. One hit wouldn’t slow him down—Jasper wouldn’t let it slow him down. “And I think those fleeing hombres want to make sure we don’t get out alive with her.”
No, they wouldn’t want her escaping. Too bad for them. Logan spun for the window. Using his weapon and his fist, he broke the glass and shattered the old wooden frame. He glanced down at the street below. Second story. He could handle that drop in his sleep, but he’d have to take care with Juliana.
“Clear,” Gunner said in his ear, and Logan knew the guy was still tracking the team’s movement. “Go now … ‘cause that fire is coming hard for you.”
Juliana’s captors had probably rigged the place for a fast burn. The better to leave no evidence—or witnesses—behind.
Logan grabbed Juliana’s hand. She yelped. He hated that sound, hated that he’d had to hurt her, but now wasn’t the time for explanations.
The knife clattered to the floor.
Now was the time to get the hell out of there. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close against his body. “You’ll need to hold tight,” he told her, voice low and growling.
But Juliana shook her head at him. “I’m not going out that window. I have to—”
“You have to live,” Jasper said from his post at the door. “That fire’s coming, ma’am, and you need to get through that window now.”
She blinked. In the faint light, Logan saw the same dark chocolate eyes he remembered. Her face still as pretty. “Fire?” Then she sucked in a deep breath, and Logan knew she’d finally caught the scent of smoke and flames. “No!” She tried to rip out of his arms and lunge for the door.
Logan just hauled her right back against him. Now that he had her safe in his arms, he wasn’t about to let her get away.