Exerpt from Winds of Fire

Victoria’s fiance has just absconded with classified files, with her closely on his heels. She’s fighting personal demons as well as the professional ones, but she’s still deadly as you’ll see.

She reloaded her weapon but her stomach clenched as she thought of the implications of her dad
involved with treason. Kurt’s high-level clearance was bad enough. It couldn’t be true. If it were,
then the whole country was in trouble.
While Victoria waited for Erica to digest what she’d told her, the gunman closest to Victoria was
taking potshots at her to keep her pinned down away from Kurt. Erica crept around the outside of
the luggage van and took a careful shot at the one closest to them. “I got him!” She yelled as she
ran towards Victoria’s position.
Victoria had already targeted the second man and pelted him with gunfire. He finally quit
shooting back and the two women sprinted down the runway trying to get a shot. Even though
she was known as a crack shot within her unit, it was nearly impossible to get a good aim, account for the wind, and maintain her speed.
She wasn’t sure how the puddle jumper was going to make it into the air in the ferocious winds.
She hoped to collar Kurt as he left the plane when it was forced to stop. However, it looked as if
he was attempting the dangerous take-off anyway. It was crazy to even be trying to take-off in
the gale force wind, but Kurt knew that he’d be a dead man if he didn’t leave. She guessed Kurt
preferred to take his chances with the weather rather than Victoria’s very accurate and deadly
wrath.
The plane was airborne. Victoria chased it down the runway. She took one last shot at it before
giving up. The two women went back to look at the men who’d been shooting at them. The first
one she rolled over looked as if he could be a marine.
She checked his pulse although she was sure he was dead. Erica’s shot had caught him in the
chest, just to the left of center. She would’ve been surprised if she’d found a pulse. A dark brown
stain permeated the man’s khaki green shirt around the bullet’s entry wound.
She went over to the second gunman. Definitely military–crew cuts, pressed pants, shined boots,
and the weapons they carried. She’d shot this one between the eyes and the blood pooled behind
his head where he’d landed and grey matter sprayed against the shed wall and along the ground
above where he lay. No point in checking his pulse.

My gals are written as strong military type women and is reminicent of James Bond 🙂

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