Jack opened the door and, staying low to the ground, crawled out. Crouching behind a tire, he peered around the front of the car, trying to find the shooter. The sideview mirror shattered by his head and he ducked down again.
At least now he knew the direction. He searched the rooftops until he saw a flash of movement. It was too far away to hit from here.
He banged on the side of the car door. "Drive!" He yelled. A second later, Andrew complied, and the car sped through the half-empty street.
Jack ran for cover behind a parked car, his mind working overtime to devise a strategy.
Cillia sat back up. "Jack, no! I can't loose you again!"
"Stay down, Miss Donovan!" Andrew ordered, speeding away and trying not to look at his partner, slumped on the floor.
Jack jumped out from behind cover, gun ready, and ran towards the sniper's nest, ducking back in cover along the way.
The street was full of screams, and a car alarm was going off, but there was no more gunfire. Jack paused, looking up at the building.
The sniper was gone.
Cillia whimpered and held her head, sobbing. "All my fault... It's all my fault..."
Jack checked the building, but found nothing. No bulletcasings, footprints, nothing. That scared him. That meant this was a pro. A pro that was seemingly uninterested in him, just Cillia. Otherwise he wouldn't have left.
He pulled out his phone and scowled at it. Battery dead.
Andrew pulled up at the house, and the car was surrounded by a team of agents who had already been filled in on the situation by Andrew. They escorted Cillia into the house and locked the door.
Wiley met her in the entry, wrapping her in a hug. "Are you okay? Where's Jack?"
Cillia sobbed into Wiley's chest. "They tried to shoot us! They killed someone Wiley, It could've been Jack!"
"I'm sure he's fine, I'll call him." Wiley soothed, rubbing her back. "I brought Trevor home." He whispered. "He's in the living room, and he's scared. He doesn't know what's going on, and I don't think he buys the 'spontanious school vacation' story."
Cillia sobbed and bolted to Trevor. She grabbed him, crushing him to her chest. "Baby..."
Wiley pulled out his phone and dialed Jack's burner. It rang a few times then stopped. He tried again, with the same results.
He turned to look at the tearfull Cillia and Trevor, wondering what to tell them.
Cillia rocked a crying trevor, hushing him and stroking his hair.
A commotion at the door saved Wiley from saying anything. He heard Jack's voice outside. "Let me in, I need to see her."
Wiley pushed passed the officers. "Let him in, he's okay." They complied and Wiley scowled.
"I called you."
"Phone's dead." Jack hardly even glanced at him before striding into the living room. "Cillia?"
Cillia ran to him and hugged his waist. "Jack..."
Jack stiffened as her arms touched his, and her forehead brushed his collarbone. He jerked away from her and fell to his knees on the floor, the pain so intense he couldn't breathe.
Cillia whimpered and hugged Trevor tight, backing away.
"Hey!" Wiley dropped down next to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to face him. "Were you hit?" He asked, his eyes searching for blood. Seeing red on the hem of his shirt, he reached for it, but Jack stopped him.
"I wasn't hit, that's from my hand." He gasped out, showing him a cut on his right hand. "Glass. I'm fine, Don."
Wiley snorted. "No you're not. You never call me Don."
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. "Shut up." He grumbled as the shaking stopped.
Cillia darted up the stairs with a small cry, whimpering.
Jack stumbled to his feet, feeling a little sick. Trevor was staring at him, wide-eyed. "D-dad?" He said in a trembling voice. Jack could tell he was struggling to look brave. "What's going on?"
Jack shook his head. "We'll talk later, 'kay?" He headed up the stairs after Cillia, leaving his son confused.
Cillia locked herself in her bedroom, running to the bathroom to get violently sick.
Jack tapped on the door. "Cillia? Are you okay?" It was a stupid question and he knew it.
Cillia wretched and coughed. "Go away... You shouldn't hear this..."