Page 142 of Wyatt

His head spun, but he kicked, swimming for the surface, fighting the urge to cough out the water.

He surfaced, but his body convulsed. His lungs refused air. He vomited in the water, then tried for another breath.

Hang up!

He looked up, coughing hard. “Hang—” More spasms took him.

On the pier, Tate held the phone, nodding at him. “It’s done!”

Wyatt struggled to keep his head above water as he vomited again.

A life ring hit the water. He reached for it, shivering, still coughing.

Overhead, a helicopter turned the water to chop, probably a news source capturing the confusion on the pier. He fought the waves, trying to kick over to a ladder that led up to the pier.

He hooked his arm around a rung and emptied his lungs again.

Then he turned to the ladder and fought his way up.

Someone grabbed his jacket, and he looked up to see Tate and York hauling him up.

They dropped him onto the deck.

He hit his hands and knees, still coughing.

“Sheesh, bro.” Tate knelt next to him. “You gonna live?”

He nodded. “Coco—”

“I got the countdown stopped. But…”

But?

He rolled over, sitting, still clearing his throat. “Please—”

“Kobie’s dead. Head shot. We’re not sure who took him out.” Tate looked up then, and Wyatt followed his gaze to York. “York took a shot, but we’re not sure it was him.”

“What?”

York was staring at Kobie’s body, some twenty feet away, crumpled and bloody. “I didn’t have the angle. Unless there was a ricochet, but my guess is that it was the sniper.”

York looked at the buildings across the street, as if assessing a sniper’s location from one of the five-story apartment buildings.

“The one that nearly killed me.” Wyatt took Tate’s outstretched hand, then looked at York. “Gustov?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Sure looked like his handiwork at the hotel.”

“Why would Gustov want me dead? Or better, Kobie?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want the information you were about to announce to come out,” Tate said.

Wyatt looked at him, frowning. “You don’t think it’s true, about the Russians…”

“Of course not,” Tate said. But he offered nothing more.

“We need to find Coco. Right now.” Wyatt walked over to Kobie’s body. Already police had established a perimeter around it.

He bent and began to riffle through Kobie’s pockets.