But Celeste’s men were already raising their rifles.

The flashing blue and red lights outside illuminated the guns, turning them into terrifying, metallic silhouettes.

“Don’t move,” one of Celeste’s men barked, aiming his rifle straight at Marco’s chest.

Ryker didn’t hesitate.

He fired a single shot.

The bullet hit the wall just inches from the gunman’s head, spraying plaster and forcing the man to dive for cover.

“Go!” Ryker yelled to me. “Get to the panic room with Marco!”

I scrambled to my feet, my knees scraping against the broken glass on the floor.

I reached for the vibrating phone on the desk.

My fingers wrapped around the cold glass of the screen.

The Washington, D.C. number was still flashing.

I slid my thumb across the screen to answer it as I dived behind a leather armchair.

“Hello?” I gasped, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Tessa Vale?” a calm, authoritative voice asked through the speaker.

“Yes!” I yelled over the sound of another gunshot echoing from the hallway. “This is Tessa!”