Chapter Fifteen
Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.
~ Sun Tzu
“I’m going to kill you myself if this ends up being a trap.” Lance didn’t even look over to the man who was beside him at the window of an empty apartment building as they overlooked the building across the street.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t betray you. I didn’t betray your woman either.”
Lance scowled and pulled his gaze from the scene before him to glare over to the man with him. “Fuck you.”
“Don’t blame me. She decided to leave. I didn’t make her do that.”
“Not this time anyway.”
Robert snorted, eyes never wavering from the window. “I had my own orders.”
“Whatever.” Readjusting, Lance took up his position once more and watched the faded red brick building.
It was showing signs of age, a few bricks missing sporadically around the front and the side he could see.
The windows were a mixture of covered by different threadbare curtains and shades to having none or being open.
He assumed the rooms there were like they were here—small with low and water-stained ceilings. Dirty, smudged and grimy windows. A few windows across the way had precariously balanced air conditioning units with jerry-rigged support.
Lance knew the lights above him would flicker when it got dark, a fact they’d noticed happening when they first arrived.
“Look. I know you don’t want to be with me. Don’t trust me like you should and I get it. There’s a lot that happened which shouldn’t have. But you were smart and didn’t trust that woman you were fucking—”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Robert”—his entire body tensed—“or I’ll fucking shut it for you.”
“You have to know she left for a reason. She could have stayed and helped us. Okay, you. But she didn’t. She ran. Fuck, for all I know she was in on the—”
Lance slammed him up against the wall, not in the window even though it was closer.
Hand closing around his windpipe, Robert sputtered and tried to fight Lance off but he couldn’t get a foothold.
Too many years of watching from a desk had weakened him, softened him.
And his most recent injuries didn’t help.
On the other hand, Lance had a level of rage he’d never experienced before on his side. Nostrils flaring, he pushed his face right in that of Robert, aware his expression was a feral snarl. The man stammered and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth. Lance squeezed harder.
“That woman isn’t here because I betrayed her by choosing to go against my gut and her to help you.
She is the victim, don’t fucking try to pretend you are.
I know about orders, I lived them too. Military.
Law enforcement. But what we didn’t do in the military that I see all you FBI dicks, CIA asshats, whatever group, are happy to do, is leave a man behind.
Let one take the blame. Sacrifice one to save the many, and that’s not fucking okay with me.
” Tighter yet. “Especially when it’s my woman you did it to. ”
He couldn’t rid himself of the pounding in his ears, his adrenaline rush or the pulse that had kicked up more than a few notches.
With a snarl, Lance stepped back from Robert, not giving a damn when he sank to the floor in a heap, gasping and rubbing at his neck as he was allowed air once more.
Red tinged his vision. He needed this to wrap the fuck up so he could hunt Jasmine down.
Struggling to calm his emotions, he paced back and forth, knowing he had to focus on this task so he could turn his attention to the far more important one—Jasmine.
“Fuck you,” Robert snarled. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I was.” A simple shrug. “But it would take time because I would have to wipe this place down.” He reclaimed his position by the window and watched. According to his timepiece the meet should be starting in three minutes.
“Christ, it sounds like you’ve fucking fallen in love.”
“Not your goddamn business.” He didn’t look away from the building entrance.
“You know she was a whore and a drug addict.” Derision filled Robert’s tone.
“I know she did what she did in order to survive. She isn’t a whore and she doesn’t do drugs now.
In fact, she has risen back to her rightful place at the top despite all the shit your people threw at her.
” Angling his head slightly to see the man stumbling to his spot by the other window, he sneered in his direction.
“I understand why she didn’t trust you or your people.
Just like I understand why her name makes your ass pucker.
Because she is the best you had, you lost her, and knowing she is back and could blow up whatever op went sideways in your faces, well, it scares the shit out of you. And it should.”
A black SUV pulled up and he clamped his jaw shut.
Tension rose in the room as he watched four men pour out.
Federal agents. Never did know how to blend in.
They spoke into their wrist pieces and spread out as the vehicle moved on.
One of them stopped before entering the building and glanced around, lasering in on the building they were in.
Lance froze, and in his periphery he noticed Robert doing the same thing. Unease skittered up his spine and he narrowed his gaze.
What are the chances this is nothing but another setup?
He feared those chances were astronomically high. A low rumble rolled up from his chest. Was I a fucking idiot and trusted this man only to find myself in the situation my Jasmine had been in?
Another vehicle paused in front of the building and three others got out. There was no missing the way they tugged shirts over weapons. As subtly as he could, he shifted his body to take in Robert as well.
I fucked up, royally.
By the snort coming from Robert, the move wasn’t something that he didn’t miss. Lance didn’t give a fuck. Right now he had a singular focus, get out of here alive so he could track down his woman.
And grovel for her forgiveness.
“Fuck.” Robert lurched away from the window.
Lance glanced out and threw himself back just as a plethora of bullets shattered the glass.
Rolling, he popped back up to his feet, palming his sidearm.
As he bit back a curse, or twelve, he looked out again, seeing Dusan Jankovic and his men rushing across the street toward the building he was currently in.
“Help me.”
Lance gazed to Robert and shook his head. The man had a bullet wound in his gut and had sunk to his knees, hand clasped over the hole.
“How the fuck did they know we were here?” Not that he needed an answer, he had it.
“I had to give him something. My family…”
“If you weren’t already dying because of that wound, I’d fucking kill you myself. If there is any chance you make it out of here and I see you again, you’ll wish you’d let Jasmine kill you for the hell I will put you through.”
There was so much more he longed to say to this man, but he knew his time for getting out alive was dwindling. Still…
He punched him in the jaw, taking precious seconds to enjoy his head snapping back before running for the door. Instead of going down, he took a deep breath and headed up. There was no point in calling the cops, not unless he wanted to have deaths on his conscience.
Dashing up three flights, he headed for the roof and kicked open the door. Checking his position, he ran for the far side and pulled up short.
Fuck me.
He had to jump. Stepping away from the edge, he tucked his sidearm in the back of his jeans and rubbed his chest, which still fucking hurt from the beatdown he’d taken from Dusan’s idiot son. It was going to hurt.
One last deep breath and he ran for the edge, launching himself off at the last possible second. Arms flailing as he bridged the gap, he grunted in pain as he landed and rolled.
Weapon in hand again, he ran for the access door.
It was locked. Finding a pipe not far away, he wrenched the piece from its housing and smashed off the outside doorknob.
When the chassis and spindle fell, he spun the pipe then punched through the borehole, sending rest of the components through to fall inside.
Without the rest of the structure holding it secure, the latch assembly was barely any resistance for him to get inside.
Sweat dripped down his body as he finally made it back to the first floor.
Yep, he could use a few more weeks of recovery before doing shit like this again.
He glanced out the door before slipping out and heading up the street away from the shitshow to cross the street and go down behind the apartments and up the alley.
Thankfully it was full of dumpsters that he could dip behind as he moved to the end he needed to be at.
Peering around the corner, he sucked in a breath. “Fucking hell.”
The street was basically empty, as he figured happened in the Old West when gunslingers were facing off. Two dark SUVs were at angles, blocking the street and leaving an opening between the building he was in the alley of and the one he’d been hiding in.
But that wasn’t what pulled the curse from his lips. Dusan stood in the middle of the street, a bleeding Robert on his left and Mark on his right with Dusan’s muscle making a half circle around him. Ensuring Lance wasn’t getting away.
Not that he looked like he was up to go anywhere fast. No, Lance figured when Jasmine had brought him to the safehouse after his ass had been kicked, he looked similar.
“Come out, Lance Beckner, and I will spare their lives.”
Right. Sure he would.
Michal strolled into view, his black shirt opened, showing off his pathetic chest. “I don’t see him.” He pulled his gun and aimed it at Robert. “You said he was here with you.”
The Fed sneered. “He is. It’s not my fault you couldn’t find him. From what I understand you can’t find your asshole and have to have your bodyguards do it for you.”