Biowar

87

Dean flew backward against the wall, his head rebounding against the concrete. His right knee collapsed and he fell in a tumble to the carpet. Smoke and dust choked his lungs; he coughed, rolled over, grabbed for his gun.

Something snapped it down out of his hand.

“Christ, Charlie Dean, you are the original bad penny. Always showing up at the wrong place and the wrong time.”

Dean looked up into Lia’s face. “That’s how you thank me for coming to save your butt?”

“The day I need you to save my butt is the day I buy myself a fuzzy pink bathrobe and rabbit slippers,” she said, pulling him up. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the Israelis get here and blow the crap out of this place.”