Rogue

Grace-Chapter 27

Making their way to the outskirts of Bern, Grace and Isaac found an abandoned apartment building to hole up in. With a nervous half-glance over her shoulder, Grace quickly stooped down and picked the lock on the door, ignoring the dull ache that throbbed in her side. The second explosion had thrown her against the side of the car, leaving a small gash on the back of her head and making her old gunshot wound burn.

Once they were inside, she dared to pull back the bandages and look at it. It seemed fine, just tender as she examined the stitches carefully. They were both lucky they weren't dead.

Isaac led the way down the hall to an empty apartment overlooking the street. There were some old sofa cushions scattered across the floor and a questionable looking recliner that looked like it had seen better days in one corner.

"I'll be back," Isaac said, dropping his backpack on the dusty floor and disappearing. Grace could only nod, afraid that if she spoke she would start to cry. Why did those people have to die? It seemed so senseless. She walked over to the window and peered out into the lightening street, her eyes welling with tears. They shouldn't have had to die... They shouldn't have had to die...

Grace quickly brushed away her tears as Isaac returned from checking out the other apartments on this floor. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she turned to face him.

"How are your eyes?"

Isaac shrugged. "Sore but okay, how about you?"

"The same," Grace replied, sitting down on the floor and checking her ammunition to keep herself busy. She had only taken three shots at Forrester, but she didn't have any more ammo with her. Luckily, Isaac handed her more bullets from the supply he kept in his backpack.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, clearly guessing what the answer was before he asked the question. Grace shook her head, setting her pistol down on the floor and burying her head in her knees. She felt like she was going to be sick—the tears threatened, but they just wouldn't come.

She felt Isaac sit down beside her and cradle her in his arms. Turning her head into his chest, she whispered, "Why did they have to die?"

Isaac didn't say anything for a long moment and Grace felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep, steadying breath.

"I don't know, Gracie," he whispered into her hair. "But there wasn't anything we could have done differently to stop it from happening. If it hadn't been there, it would have been somewhere else. Wayne Howard is ruthless—he won't stop until he gets what he wants."

Grace sniffed, blinking back tears. Everything Isaac had said to her, both in the car and right now, made perfect sense. But it didn't make the hurt any less. So many lives had been taken because Howard wanted revenge—it was too awful to think about.

They sat huddled together on the floor for a long time, holding each other and grieving together. Isaac's arms were the only place Grace felt safe right now. His warmth and steadiness were all that kept her from falling apart.

She must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing Grace knew, she woke up on a couple of the couch cushions with Isaac's jacket spread over her. Her heart began pounding as she sat up, searching the room wildly for Isaac. Her fear eased when he came into the room holding two sandwiches and two bottles of water.

"Oh good, you're up," he said, giving her half a smile. "I was just going to wake you up and see if you were hungry."

"This looks amazing," Grace replied as he handed her a sandwich. "Where did you get it?"

Isaac shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "There's a deli two doors down from here. I got hungry while you were sleeping so I went and bought us some food."

"That was risky," Grace chided halfheartedly. She felt grateful for the food, but Isaac could have been captured. She forced herself to calm down—he was here and he was alright. That was all that mattered. "But I'm glad you went, I'm really hungry."

"Me too," Isaac agreed, taking an enormous bite of his sandwich. "The good news is I've been keeping tabs on activity on the street and I don't think they were able to follow us here. We should be relatively safe until our backup arrives."

Grace nodded, taking a bite of her own sandwich. It was good! The ham and cheese was still warm and served on a buttery croissant that practically melted in her mouth.

"I'll stand watch for a while if you want to get some sleep," she said after a moment or two of letting herself enjoy their makeshift dinner. "You're probably exhausted."

"I could do with a nap," Isaac replied, scooting over and nudging her elbow playfully. "Did you know you snore?"

"Only when I have a stuffy nose," Grace laughed, giving Isaac's shoulder a playful shove. "I was crying, cut me some slack."

Isaac flashed her the first real smile she had seen since the bombing and said, "Well, for the record, I thought it was cute."

"I doubt it was cute," Grace snorted, shaking her head. "But thanks."

They finished their sandwiches and Isaac retreated to the musty recliner in the corner to take a nap. Grace stood quietly at the window for a long time after he had fallen asleep, watching the crowded streets below. She was careful to keep hidden behind the wall of the apartment, but she could see the activity below clearly. There were people out there, just going about their everyday business. They had no idea that a few feet away, two people who had just survived a bombing were hiding from their attackers.

She caught sight of a tall man with short, dark hair and a little scruff shadowing his chiseled jaw standing on the corner across the street. And unless she was very much mistaken, he was looking back at her. Grace shrank even further back into the shadows. Had he really been staring at her or was she just being paranoid?

Peering out of the window again, her heart began hammering when she saw that he had disappeared from the street corner. She scanned the crowd carefully, her instincts telling her that she wasn't being paranoid and that somehow he had known she was there. Easing her pistol out of its holster, she crept toward the door of the apartment, listening carefully. Her heart juddered in her chest as she heard footsteps climbing the stairs toward them. She glanced over at Isaac—wondering if there was time to wake him up just as the doorknob rattled.

Grace shrank back into the shadows behind the door, the only thing she had going for her was the element of surprise. When the man pushed open the door, she sprang out of her hiding place, tackling him to the ground around the waist. He gave a grunt of surprise as she twisted his arm behind his back until he was forced to let go of his weapon.

"Who are you?" Grace snapped. "Who are you working for?"

The man sighed and said, "You must be Grace. I'm Agent Harris—Johnson sent me."

Grace's stomach dropped but she still said, "Let me see some ID."

"Fine, but you're going to have to let me up first," he replied. She released him quickly, keeping both weapons trained on him. Agent Harris stood and took his ID out of his back pocket, scooting it across the floor to her. She stooped down and picked it up, a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck when she confirmed that he was, in fact, Agent Harris. Why hadn't she known that? Everyone knew what Agent Harris's face looked like after it got publicized all over every front page magazine and newspaper when he revealed the true nature of Director Walker of the CIA. She just didn't recognize him.

"What the hell is going on?" Isaac demanded, coming in with his own weapon drawn.

"Um," Grace said sheepishly. "This is our backup."

"Good to meet you, Agent Cooper," Agent Harris said, sticking out his hand to shake. "Agent Abramson is waiting for us in a café down the street. Shall we?"

Isaac nodded, disappearing into the other room to grab his backpack. When they were alone, Agent Harris turned to Grace and said, "Just so we're clear, my wife and Agent Scott never hear that I got taken down by a girl. They'll never let me live it down."

Grace giggled when she saw the humor in his eyes. "Understood."