The sharp echo of the gunshot had barely faded before years of operational training cut through Naomi's blinding dread.
Her scream choked in her throat as her gaze snapped past Alex's motionless body and locked onto the panoramic windows. High on the reinforced glass, a neat, circular puncture radiated with hairline fractures.
A sniper. The round hadn't come from the dark foyer; it had been fired from a vantage point across the avenue.
The realization turned her blood to ice. If the shooter had a clear angle into the room, a follow-up shot could pierce the glass at any second.
Pushing through the trembling weakness in her limbs, Naomi hooked her arms beneath Alex's shoulders.
Gritting her teeth against his heavy, dead weight, she dragged him backward across the polished marble, hauling him out of the sniper's line of sight and toward an adjoining private office.
