Hearts Under Siege Read Online Free PDF

much he loved his family, staying away to avoid hurting them as much as to avoid his own pain, she’d kept him updated on family news. She hadn’t yet told him the latest, knowing it would devastate him. But this—this was so much worse.
    The door chimed, jerking her back to awareness. She’d forgotten the store was still open. Dragging herself to her feet, wiping the remnants of her tears from her face, she almost expected a solemn, dark-suited facilitator to be standing there. But no, it was a young woman in slouchy cargos and a snug hoodie, hair pulled into bunches all over her head, dark rings of makeup around her eyes. She could be an operative or a carrier, but not a facilitator.
    She turned out to be none of the above, just a music major looking for a certain CD that Molly didn’t have. She held on to her patience by her fingernails while she processed the special order and ushered the woman and her boyfriend out, locking the door behind them. After rushing through her closing procedures, she stuck a sign on the door saying Closed for Family Emergency and did a quick bank drop on her way out of town.
    Six hours, eighteen phone calls, and one about-to-explode bladder later, Molly arrived at Brady’s apartment in DC. He wasn’t going to be here—the phone calls had helped her pinpoint his location in South America—but she’d need things from his stash before she caught a plane. She’d taken off with a full tank of gas, a bare-bones duffel bag, and nothing else. Who knew how long it would take her to zero in on Brady? He was supposed to be out of communication for another week.
    His “secretary” had offered to set up a communication bridge, but Molly didn’t want him to find out alone, far away, via strangers. Despite the separation of the last decade, she was going to be there for him when he got the worst news of his life.
    …
    Brady pulled the hood of his all-weather coat higher over his head and hunched against the thunderous rain. Fuck this weather. Fuck this country. And fuck the fucker who was following him.
    He’d been here a bit too long, his cover growing shaky over the last few days, but there was one piece of information that would make the previous week and a half worthwhile. Without it, the rest of the intel was file-filler and not much else. His contact had set up a meet for three hours from now. His cover only needed to hold until then. But his shadow had appeared this morning, and he—or she—was good. Too damned good. Brady had been moving around the city all day, trying to lose him. Taxis, buses, quick dashes down alleys, and always the bastard remained just a few steps behind.
    Time to change tactics. Stop moving, see what the guy did.
    Brady entered a tenement building SIEGE occasionally used for a safe house and ducked into the elevator. His shadow entered the foyer a second before the doors closed. Brady hit the fourth floor—high enough for the elevator to reach before the shadow did via the stairs. As soon as the door opened he hurried to an apartment across from the stairs that he knew was empty, jimmied the lock, and slipped inside, watching through the tiniest crack. Three breaths later the stairwell door opened and a small, black-clad figure glided through and paused, eyes on the barely open door Brady stood behind. It had to be a woman, someone that slender, but he couldn’t see a face past the jacket hood. He narrowed his eyes. A jacket very much like the one he was wearing.
    She reached for the door, her body tensing and angling sideways, presenting a smaller target. Brady wasn’t going to wait for her attack. He yanked open the door and swung, his fist slapping into her palm.
    A door opened down the hallway. Brady twisted his hand around the woman’s wrist and yanked her into the room, spinning her to try to pin her against his body. She used the momentum to slam them against the door, bouncing off and putting distance between them. Her hands went up. No time to