One of the guys behind her returned fire, two rapid shots to pin the shooter in place. Briar took the opening that gave her and sprinted for the closest house on her right, diving behind a stone retaining wall lining the backyard.
Staying low so she could use it for cover, she ran toward the thin stand of trees blocking the view of the house from the ski hill. The shooter was still pinned down, wounded, with nowhere to go. But the shots had attracted unwanted attention. Lights in the house nearest her and several others nearby were coming on, people emerging out on their balconies and doorsteps to see what was going on.
Briar’s mouth thinned. She was going to finish this right now.
Knowing the guys had her back, she gathered herself for one final advance and broke from cover. The shooter had gotten to his knees.
“Freeze!” she yelled, keeping her pace slow enough that her aim didn’t waver.
He didn’t. Instead he threw his left hand up to grasp the top of the fence and began to haul himself up. Briar swore and tightened her finger on the trigger, then suddenly another shot rang out from behind her, hitting the target’s left shoulder. The angle and force of the impact knocked him forward. He wobbled, managed to fight gravity long enough to pitch his weight forward and topple over the other side of the fence.
He was not fucking getting away.
Briar raced for that fence. She heard the thud of running feet behind her, knew Matt and/or Alex were right on her heels as she sprinted for it, heart drumming against her sternum. She could hear the shooter moving as she ran, his muffled grunts of pain giving his position away.
Things were about to get up close and personal.
She slung her rifle across her back to get it out of her way, grabbed her pistol from her waistband. Catching the top of the fence she used her momentum to swing her legs up and over the top, bringing her weapon up as she cleared it. As her boots hit the ground she stumbled but gained her footing and locked her sights on the man lying bleeding in the snow. She aimed dead center at his forehead, prepared to kill him if necessary.
He was half propped up on his back in a spreading pool of blood, both arms hanging useless at his sides. He glared up at her in the moonlight, his pale eyes glittering with an almost feral light.
“Who sent you?” she demanded, her voice so low it came out almost like a growl.
His jaw flexed once and his nostrils flared but he didn’t answer, instead turning his gaze several feet behind him where a sharp drop-off marked the edge of the upper limit of the village below.
“I want a name,” she demanded, finger firm on the trigger.
The man still didn’t answer. He struggled into a sitting position and as much as Briar would love to shoot him again there was no point. He was no longer a threat to her and she needed the information he had, so putting him in more pain that would make him incapable of talking was plain stupid.
The running footsteps behind the fence came closer and a moment later a big shadow sailed over the top. Matt landed with a soft thud, his body coiled tight as he brought his pistol up, sparing her a quick glance before zeroing back on their target. A few seconds after that Alex appeared on her right, having gone around the houses to block the shooter’s escape.
“There’s no way out,” Matt told the shooter, his expression hard in the moonlight. “Cops will be coming any minute. Tell us what you know.”
The man’s breathing was harsh and ragged as he glared at them all, then focused solely on her.
Briar’s patience snapped. This guy had come to kill her, might have killed Janaia and Frank. He wasn’t going anywhere and he’d never do another hit again. “At best you’re going to jail. At worst you’ll wind up facing the death penalty once they disavow you like they did me and uncover all your kills that they’ll call unsanctioned. I know that makes you want to get back at whoever sent you. Tell me their name.”
The man’s mouth twisted into an ugly smirk as he stared back at her, the smell of his blood rising in the cold air.
Alex made a snarling sound and stalked forward, clearly intending to grab the guy and force the information out of him.
Without warning the shooter suddenly twisted toward the edge of the drop off, too far away for Briar to stop him. Matt swore and lunged for him but it was too late.
Briar watched, frozen, as the man deliberately launched himself off the edge of the precipice and plunged out of sight. She stepped to the edge just as he hit the ground some fifty feet below with a muffled thud, feeling almost numb inside as she stared at his unmoving body. From this height the hard-packed snow had done little to cushion his fall. If he wasn’t dead already, he would be soon.