Masks (Out of the Box Book 9) Read Free Page B

screen.
    Welch looked pained, though this time it didn’t appear to be from being blinded by the light. “He’s making demands, but we are in conversation with him to try and resolve this situation peacefully.” The NYPD spokesman forced a smile that did not look good on screen—or probably live, Jamie suspected.
    “Lieutenant!” someone else yelled. “Given the seriousness of Ms. Griffin’s crimes and the public opinion surrounding her, are you going to pay this man?”
    Welch looked deeply uncomfortable to Jamie, as though someone had just turned the screws on him. “Mr. Tannen has asked for … a rather large sum. And he seems fixated on that amount. As you probably know, we don’t negotiate these sorts of things because we don’t believe paying bounties for our citizens sends the right message or incentivizes any kind of behavior we’d want. That said, we’re doing our best to res—”
    “Lieutenant, if you don’t meet his demands is he going to—”
    “Are you prepared to storm the building and—”
    “Is it likely Ms. Griffin will survive this—?”
    “Lieutenant, have you thought about seeking help from either of the metahuman heroes here in New York—”
    Jamie watched, her eyes wide, and she knew the answers before the reporters even finished answering the question. All thoughts of her meeting with the banker, her argument with Kyra, and her ordinary life were thrown out the window in a hot second, and Jamie Barton sprinted out the door, not even bothering to slam it shut behind her as she unbuttoned her blouse and kicked off her pants with metahuman speed, pulled her mask over her face as she vaulted into the air above Staten Island and launched herself toward lower Manhattan.

4.
Sienna Nealon
    “Augustus?” I called again, hoping to hear his familiar voice crackle through the radio line. In its place I heard nothing but gunfire from the kitchen as the bad guys opened up on both Reed and the corner where I’d just popped my head out.
    Kat was down.
    Augustus was out.
    Reed was pinned.
    My little op had gone so far south that it was about to cross the Drake Passage.
    This shit was just unacceptable.
    “Keep your head down, Reed!” I shouted, not caring who heard as I pushed Wolfe and Gavrikov to the forefront of my mind. I launched myself into flight into the main hallway, my gun raised and ready. My opponent was ready, too, facing me from the living room arch where he’d gunned down Augustus, his weapon pointing almost right at me—
    I shot at him and he shot at me. I did a sideways barrel roll in midair, some serious John Woo-type shit, unconcerned with gravity or a landing because I didn’t have to be. I watched his shots go streaking past, ready to paint my face if I’d been just a little slower.
    I hit the wall sideways and upside down, using the bounce as an opportunity to go lower as I worked my way back across the archway toward cover again, spinning and firing like—like—
    You know, honestly, I can’t think of anything I’ve ever seen in any action movie where someone did what I did. It was like rolling on the ground to put out a fire on myself, except without the fire, or the ground, and with shots flying all around me as I stayed head on with my opponent and gave him the smallest possible target to shoot at—basically just my face and shoulders.
    I returned fire, the wild thumping of my heart and the insane movement making my aim beyond crappy. I blasted the wall to his right, destroying the patterned wallpaper with my shots. Some streamed past him into the living room behind, leaving their own marks on the far wall. My foe was dodging hard, lunging to my left with pretty damned good speed, and I couldn’t decide whether he was a human with incredible training or whether he was a meta of some sort—it was pretty close to the line and damned impressive either way because he was keeping his head about him like few I’d ever faced.
    I heard his shots lance into the