CARRIE'S PROTECTOR Read Online Free Page B

it difficult for anyone to sneak up on the safe house. Great planning when you were on the inside, but not so advantageous if you were trying to get close to the house.
    Unfortunately, he found he didn’t have to get close to understand what had happened. The evidence was big as life and twice as plain—a body lying sprawled across the back steps.

Chapter Three
    Carrie heard Wyatt mutter a curse.
    Alarmed, she followed the direction of his gaze.
    From her hiding place, she saw a dark-skinned man with a shaved head lying at the bottom of the back steps, his arms spread and a gun still clutched in his hand. As she realized who it was, her chest constricted painfully. The man was Gary Blain, one of the bodyguards who’d gone out of his way to be nice to her during guard duty. It looked as though he’d been trying to get away when he’d been gunned down.
    She choked back a sob. Another casualty. On her account. “No.”
    Wyatt put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side, and she turned toward him, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against his chest.
    “Well, we know why he didn’t answer the phone,” he said in a raspy voice.
    “What about the rest of them?”
    “We’ve got to assume they’re dead, too. Probably in the house. And Gary almost got away.”
    “My fault—again,” she whispered.
    “No. The bastards are determined to get you. When we escaped from the Federal Building, they probably came here. Or maybe they sent a team here as a precaution in case we got out of the trap they’d set.”
    “How did they know about this place?”
    “Obviously, somebody gave away this location.”
    “Could they have followed you? I mean, sometime earlier?”
    “I don’t think so,” he answered, but she heard the tiny note of doubt in his voice. Still, he continued, “We have to assume it’s the same person who told them about your meeting this morning.”
    Carrie fought the sick feeling rising in her throat. Death and destruction were following close on her heels. It was hard to imagine everything that had happened today and harder still to believe that someone was deliberately trying to kill her. But apparently, that was what happened when you ratted on terrorists.
    “What are we going to do?” she murmured.
    “For starters, thank God that we didn’t go charging in there.”
    “You mean thank your instincts.”
    “Whatever,” he answered dismissively. “We’d better get the hell back to the car before somebody spots us.”
    Even as he spoke, it was already too late. Lookouts must have been stationed in all directions, because in the next second, gunfire erupted from inside the house, and men charged outside, sprinting in their direction.
    Wyatt grabbed Carrie’s hand, leading her back the way they’d come, heading for the screen of trees. Behind them she heard running feet closing the gap.
    Lord, no.
    “On my own turf, I’ve got a little surprise to slow them down,” he said. He reached into his pocket, pulling out something that looked like a cell phone. As they ran, he pressed a series of buttons. In back of them, small explosions began to erupt from the grass, sending sprays of dirt and stones into the air.
    She heard a loud curse, as someone behind them took a hit.
    The explosions continued, but Wyatt didn’t slow his pace, so she kept running beside him, her lungs burning as she struggled to keep up with him.
    She was beginning to think they were in the clear when the gunfire stopped. But after the last explosion, she heard a sound that made the hair on her arms prickle. Someone must have escaped Wyatt’s trap and he was pounding along behind them.
    At first the thuds were faint. Whoever was back there had lost ground because of the charges, but he was catching up, and now he began shooting as he went.
    Wyatt whirled and returned fire, but his weapon was no match for his opponent’s. Unfortunately, they were still a long way from the electric fence and the car, and