Chapter 43 Sadie
SADIE
Bullets continue flying overhead as Landon’s body shields mine. I’d never imagined being in an actual gunfight, but here I am, trying not to get killed by a rival drug lord.
“I need your help,” Landon breathes. “This isn’t just about firepower.”
He slides a small device from his pocket—a modified smartphone with custom hardware attachments. I immediately recognize it as a signal jammer with advanced capabilities.
“The garden has electronic locks and security cameras. Orlov’s using them,” Landon explains. “Can you disable them?”
“I need network access,” I say, my mind already racing through possible exploit vectors.
Landon nods toward a utility box mounted on the garden wall. “Service panel. Twenty feet to our left.”
“We’ll be exposed.”
“I’ll cover you.” Landon pulls a sleek handgun from his jacket. “On my signal, we move together.”
When he meets my eyes, there’s respect shining in his.
“Now!”
We move in perfect synchronization, Landon firing at Orlov’s men, while I sprint low toward the utility panel. A bullet grazes the hedge beside me, but Landon’s covering fire keeps their heads down.
I reach the panel and pry it open with trembling fingers. Inside is a standard security terminal—nothing I haven’t hacked before. I connect Landon’s device to the access port and begin typing commands.
“Thirty seconds,” I call to Landon, who’s positioned himself at an angle that protects me while maintaining line of sight to Orlov’s position.
“Twenty more,” he responds, ejecting a magazine and slamming a new one home.
My fingers fly across the screen, bypassing firewalls and authentication protocols. The system architecture is familiar—I’d designed something similar for a client last year.
“Got it!” I exclaim as the garden lights flicker and die. The electronic locks throughout the area click open simultaneously, and I know the security cameras have gone dark.
Landon appears at my side, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “Well done, little butterfly.”
The security systems go dark. This is our chance, but Orlov’s men are regrouping quickly.
“I need a distraction,” Landon whispers, eyes scanning the garden.
Without hesitation, I grab the signal jammer and hurl it toward the decorative fountain in the center. The device crashes into the water with a spectacular electrical surge, sending sparks flying and illuminating the darkness.
“What the—” One of Orlov’s men turns toward the commotion.
It’s all Landon needs. He moves like a hunter, silent and deadly, tackling the first guard before he can react. In three movements, Landon disarms him. He uses the man’s own weapon to neutralize a second attacker approaching from the left.
A third guard falls to Xavier, who emerges from the shadows like a ghost. Knox and Vane are moving too, having escaped their captors in the confusion.
“Where’s Jolene?” I scan the darkness.
That’s when I see her—my best friend, bloodied and terrified, being dragged backward by one of Orlov’s men. He has a gun pressed against her temple.
“Nobody move!” he shouts. “Or I paint the garden with her brains.”
Landon freezes, his eyes locking with mine. I can read the calculation there—he’s too far away to reach them before the trigger is pulled.
But I’m not.
Without thinking, I drop to the ground and grab a broken piece of garden statuary. The man’s attention is on Landon and his brothers—the real threats. He doesn’t see me inching closer along the hedge line.
“Let her go,” Landon demands, keeping the gunman’s focus.
I’m close enough now. Jolene’s eyes widen as she spots me, but she has the presence of mind not to react.
In one fluid motion, I launch myself forward, swinging the stone hard against the man’s knee. Bone cracks. He howls, his grip on Jolene loosening just enough.
“Duck!” I scream at Jolene, who drops to the ground as I slam the stone against the gunman’s head.
The gunman crumples to the ground, his weapon skittering across the stone path. I grab Jolene and pull her toward the cover of a nearby hedge, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She nods shakily. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did.”
Landon appears beside us, his expression unreadable as he studies me. “That was...” he pauses, holstering his gun. “Impressive. You didn’t hesitate.”
“She’s my friend,” I say simply, as if that explains everything.
“Most people freeze in combat situations. You didn’t.” His voice drops lower. “You’re always full of surprises, little butterfly.”
The moment breaks as Xavier, Knox, and Vane converge on our position. Their tailored suits are torn and bloodied. Knox tosses Landon an extra magazine for his weapon.
“Orlov’s men are down,” Xavier reports. “But the man himself is missing.”
“Not anymore,” a heavily accented voice calls from the center of the garden.
We turn to see Ilya Orlov stepping into the moonlight. His silver hair gleams, and the hard lines of his face are carved deeper by shadows. But it’s what he holds in his hand that makes my blood run cold—a small black device with a blinking red light.
“A detonator,” Vane hisses.
“Very observant,” Orlov smiles thinly. “I’ve always believed in insurance policies. This entire garden is wired with enough explosives to ensure none of us walk away. A shame about the other charity guests inside, but...” he shrugs.
Landon shifts, positioning himself between me and Orlov.
“What do you want?” Landon’s voice is ice.
“Simple. You surrender yourself to me, Blackwood. You alone.” Orlov’s finger hovers over the button. “Or I send us all to meet our makers. You have ten seconds to decide.”
My heart drops into my stomach as I realize what I’ve done. The signal jammer—our only defense against Orlov’s detonator—is now crackling uselessly at the bottom of the fountain.
“Oh god,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “The jammer. I threw it in the water. We can’t—”
Panic rises in my throat, threatening to choke me. That impulse decision might have just killed us all—Jolene, the Blackwoods, innocent people inside the charity event. My hands start trembling as I meet Landon’s eyes, expecting fury.
Instead, he smirks.
Not the cruel smile I’ve seen when he’s punishing me, but an almost playful one. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out another device, identical to the one that shorted out in the fountain.
“Always prepare for eventualities, little butterfly,” he murmurs, pressing the second jammer into my palm. His fingers linger against mine for a moment longer than necessary.
I stare at him in disbelief. “You had a backup?”
His eyes flick toward Orlov, then back to me. He leans closer, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “I’m going with him. When I give the signal, activate this. It’ll jam his detonator long enough for me to take him down.”
“But—”
“Trust me.” The words are so quiet I barely hear them.
Landon’s gaze holds mine for one more second before he straightens up, his expression hardening.
“I accept your terms, Orlov,” he calls out, turning away from me. “No one else needs to die tonight.”
I clutch the jammer tightly, feeling its weight in my palm. For the first time since the Hunt began, Landon isn’t forcing me to submit—he’s asking me to help him. The choice is mine.