A Secret Service [NOW PUBLISHED]

Chapter 43 - "You ready?"

"What the-"

Carter moved on instinct as Donovan fired at one of the men. Men built like boulders. Somehow the man narrowly avoided Donovan's dart. Carter's focus was the second man, who was momentarily surprised. Racing towards him, she jumped onto the man's back, wrapping her arms around his thick neck in a choke hold. She hooked her feet around his stomach.

Even as she struggled to keep her place, she knew her grip wasn't strong enough. The man reached behind him and grabbed the back of her neck. Carter changed tactics and reached for the man's gas mask. She had barely gotten hold of it when the man bent forward, ripping her from her perch and throwing her to the floor.

Carter tucked into a ball as she collided with the hard surface. A spasm of pain ricocheted through her spine. She rolled and pushed herself up, as a new stab of pain shot through her. She ignored it, her heart rate spiking.

The man reached for the gun on his hip. Without his mask, his movements were slowed. The gas had dissipated enough to weaken his reaction, but not cause unconsciousness.

Carter rose as he raised his weapon. She rushed forward, and with both hands snapped the wrist holding the gun. The gun went skittering across the floor. The man punched Carter in the side, the shock sending her staggering into a nearby desk. The man pulled a blade from his belt, took a step forward and swung at her.

Carter jumped back. The knife grazed her chest, but cut into her arm. A cry of shock was torn from her throat. Blood blossomed on her sleeve. The man charged forward drunkenly, his balance compromised from the knock out gas.

Adrenaline coursed though Carter, dulling her pain. She ducked the man's sloppy swing, grabbed the knife hand and spun so her back was against him. She brought the man's forearm down hard against her shoulder. She heard the crack of bone as the elbow was rammed upward. The knife clattered to the ground. Carter smashed her elbow into the man's face, breaking his nose, blood bursting from the extremity.

Her body reacted on instinct. She kicked the inside of his leg, sending him crashing to one knee, then punched him in the face, hit his temple with her elbow and kicked him in the chest. The force of the blows sent him sprawling onto his back.

Once he was down, Carter raced for the gun. As the man staggered up, she spun around and shot him twice in the neck. One hand reached up to the darts, but quickly the tranquilizer dragged him under. His body crumpled.

It was only then Carter became aware of the other fight taking place in the room. Across the room, Donovan punched his opponent's face, taking a hit to the ribs in the process. Carter leveled the gun at the man. But he moved and Donovan was in her line of fire. Clenching the handle, she waited.

Her chance came a second later when the man slammed Donovan against the wall, one hand on his throat. Donovan brought his elbow down on the man's arm, but the hand clamped on his throat didn't budge.

Carter fired. The dart embedded itself into the man's neck at the base of his skull. His hold on Donovan loosened as he fell to the floor. Carter lowered the gun as Donovan took a deep breath. Their eyes met. She could see the bruises forming on his cheek bone and jaw.

"Thanks," he said.

She looked at the two unconscious men. For a second, they both stared at them, reeling. 

"We should tie them up and keep moving," Donovan said, his strength returning.

Carter winced, as she tucked the gun into her pants. Donovan's eyes narrowed, seeing the stain of blood. He crossed the room in a few strides.

"What happened?" he asked, reaching for her arm.

"Guy had a knife."

Donovan gently tugged her arm out of her jacket sleeve. Carter forced her face to remain stoic.