Summary:
When an ATAC agent shows up at the Hardy's with a gunshot wound and supposed sensitive information, they rush her to the hospital, only for her to be declared dead on arrival. Before she succumbs to her injuries, she manages to utter a single sentence - that makes no sense to Frank and Joe. When this is followed by a message from the director of the ATAC, the undercover brothers have no choice but to gear up for their most dangerous mission yet, which forces them to ask: How far are they willing to go for their employers, and for each other?
PROLOGUE
She heard the gunshot a millisecond before she felt the bullet tear through her body.
She stumbled, clutching her torso, then kept running. The shooters followed her, squeezing round after round from their automatics, forcing her to zig-zag her way down the desolate street. Surrounded by abandoned buildings and factories, the only light came from the powerful flashlights wielded by her pursuers.
She had to get to the car before they got to her. But she had to tell someone before it was too late. She pulled out her transmitter and pressed in her 4-digit ID. She heard the static, then a cool voice came on. "ATAC Code Red. State your emergency."
"I've been compromised!" She shouted over the noise, as another bullet bit into the asphalt beside her. The blood from the gunshot wound was flowing freely now, and had soaked through her shirt and jacket. The men were starting to catch up to her now. She changed course and ran into an alleyway, heading towards the highway. "I need to talk to Q!"
"I'm sorry, Q is not available."
"What about Penhurst, Barrow, anyone?"
"I'm sorry. We can provide you assistance, though. Please state your location."
"I don't know, um, some place in America! And I already have assistance! I need to speak to Q!" she was almost there, but the men behind her were getting closer with every second.
"Your file states that your mission was located in Davenport, Iowa; you're more than a thousand miles east," The voice continued in that infuriatingly calm voice. "Re-enter your 4-digit ID, please."
She almost screamed in frustration. The highway was just a few meters away. She dodged another bullet and increased her pace. "Look, my name is Anna Coleman, I'm 17 years old. I'm an ATAC Class Five Agent and yes, I was sent on a mission to Davenport, but circumstances forced me to fly here. I made an unscheduled landing in some town at 2300 hours last night because I was RUNNING FOR MY LIFE!"
She was on the highway now, and she could see the car, idling at the other side. She dashed across the road, waving frantically at the man in the driver seat. He acknowledged her and threw open the door. She jumped in and yelled, "Step on it!"
With a screeching of tires, he pulled out and sped away in the nick of time. She turned back, spat blood out the window, and spoke calmly into the transmitter, "Look, the bullet probably nicked some major organs. I have super sensitive information regarding the mission, and not much time to pass it on. Do you still want to play games?"
There was a pause. Then the voice came back on, speaking faster. "We are tracking your exact location. I will guide you to the nearest safe house. Do not talk to anyone until you're there."
She placed the transmitter on the dashboard and leaned back, breathing heavily. The adrenaline from the chase had gone, and the pain set in. Her contact drove fast, following the curt and precise instructions of the nameless woman on the other end of the walkie-talkie. He made another turn. The board at the side of the road informed them that they were now entering Bayport.
The bleeding had intensified, and Anna was seeing spots. By the time the woman told them to stop in front of a two-storied blue house, she could barely keep from passing out.
"Thanks," She managed, before tumbling out the car and up the steps to the front door. The car sped away, back where it came from. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then knocked on the door.
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