76Their combined mission was to pull Cunningham to safety. Maggie and Turner shielded his body as they dragged him behind the rocks. Both agents’ eyes searched the bluffs above. But to do so was to look directly into the sun. Maggie saw no movement.
“Would he have a scope?” Turner asked.
She looked for reflections.
“Son of a b***h, that hurts,” Cunningham said.
Maggie felt the urgency thump inside her chest. She’d never seen her boss in pain. She’d never seen him project an ounce of weakness. Cool, calm and collected. That was Cunningham even in the face of frustration and anger. For him to complain that it hurt meant that it was bad.
She took her eyes off the bluff and glanced down. He was bleeding. His fingers, where they gripped the wound, were covered in blood. There was too much
