CHAPTER TWENTY
Five guns to two. Not ideal. Dakota slowly lowered her weapon, frowning as she did. “Look—let's talk, alright? No need to get antsy. See, just lower your weapons like me.”
They all watched shrewdly as she holstered her g*n, breathing heavily at the same time. A calculated risk, but a necessary one. Two to five at such close quarters would just get her and Marcus killed.
“Come on,” Dakota said cautiously. “Let's talk. Lower the guns.”
Four of the guards slowly directed their weapons towards the ground now, too. They looked more nervous than Slab-face at the notion of accosting two FBI agents. They kept shooting shifty-eyed glances at each other as if searching for backup in their bad decisions.
With four guns facing down, Dakota was able to breath a bit easier. But the a
