22. The Rescue #2
Halston could open fire, end it now, but she had no idea how many bullets—if any—were in the magazine.
If she pulled the gun, fired, and missed, she’d be dead in a second.
Like she had with Serge, she would separate Natasha from Petrov and kill them one at a time.
Not an easy task, but she would make it happen.
What other choice did she have? This deranged brother-sister team weren’t about negotiating any more than the Russian guard had been.
Two of the men helped Lars to the table. He sat beside them but laid his head in his hands. Risking another smack—or worse—Halston knelt next to him.
“Do you need to lie down?” she whispered.
“Get away from him!” ordered Petrov.
“He’s not well,” Halston said.
“Help me put him in bed,” Petrov said.
Petrov pulled Lars to his feet while Halston guided him back to the cot. Lars laid down, closed his eyes.
“Thank you,” Halston said to Petrov.
“Of course.” Petrov bared his teeth, his terrifying smile sending shivers racing down her spine. “Let us help team finish task.”
As she made her way out—
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Halston startled, then whipped around.
Petrov had pumped Lars with bullets.
She wasn’t dealing with a madman. She was up against Satan himself.
“Now, he no longer slows me down,” Petrov bit out.
Screams and cries from the other room had Petrov glancing over her shoulder.
Every cell, every fiber of her being wanted to kill him. A seething hatred threatened to explode out of her, but she had to find the right time. The right moment that worked for her.
Maybe when they’re sleeping… if they let us live through the night.
“Where is he?” Natasha shrieked as she stormed in. “Where Serge?”
“He said something about toilet,” Halston replied. “That’s where he spends most of his time.”
If they saw the bedding was gone and they ventured into the woods, she’d have to take her chances and fire the gun. But she didn’t expect to live through the shootout.
Brother and sister stood side by side glaring down at her.
“I didn’t believe Grigori,” Natasha said. “He blamed you as spy.”
“Are you?” Petrov asked. “Are you a filthy, little American spy?”
GAbrIEL
Gabriel drove down the third country road that looked identical to the one he’d just left.
But as he got closer, the SUV’s headlights shone on a building—a windowless, one-story structure that looked like it had been abandoned decades ago.
He turned off the lights, inched his way closer, then killed the engine.
He opened the cargo area, add bullets to the CANiK’s magazine, then checked his long gun.
After adding more bullets, he slid the 9mm into the holster, pulled on the strap and cradled his rifle.
The bulb over the front door had him walking with determination. His gut told him he’d find Halston there.
I need you to be alive, baby.
He approached the door, pressed his ear against the cold metal.
Nothing. He turned the handle, eased open the door enough to peek inside.
Halston stood in the middle of a stark room.
Two people faced her, one pointing a gun at her.
Behind her sat a group of people, the horror on their faces an indication of her imminent danger.
He looked beyond the fat man holding Halston at gunpoint.
There were two people sitting at one of the tables behind him.
If I miss, those innocents are dead.
Not gonna miss.
He threw open the door, stormed inside. Everyone whipped their heads in his direction. He raised the long gun, lasered-in on the man, and he opened fire.
RATATATATATATATATATAT!!!
Bullets riddled his body. The man dropped.
“Do I have your attention now?” Gabriel roared.
Natasha’s blood-curdling scream pierced his ears. “You killed my brother, you motherfucker!”
As Gabriel strode toward them, Halston grabbed Petrov’s weapon.
The people at the tables ran into the corner, their screams and cries echoing in the barren space. When Halston regarded him, the relief in her eyes was all he needed to see.
Halston pointed the gun at Natasha. “Where’s the ambassador?”
“In car,” she bit out.
“He was shot,” Halston said. “We need to get him help.”
“Update me,” Gabriel said, his voice strong and loud.
“She’s an American spy,” Natasha blurted.
“Not you, bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. “You murdered my friend.”
“I’m social director. I kill no one.”
“Liar,” Halston stormed over, smacked Natasha’s face. “I’m not a violent person, but I like hurting you.”
“You tried to poison me at the nightclub,” Gabriel said. “Why?”
“Fuck you.”
“I want answers. You have three seconds—”
“I die proud Russian to honor my country. We set up disaster for America. Power grids take out electricity. You will not be able to turn on. The end of a superpower.” She raised her fist in triumph. “Start of Russian International Regime. We conquer world, America first.”
“What is she talking about?” Gabriel asked.
“The scientists are working on—” Halston hurried over to them. “Stop. Stop whatever you’re doing. Now.”
They stared at her.
“She said this job was to restore the outages that have been happening across the country. It’s not true.”
“Smart girl,” Natasha said. “You figure out.”
Gabriel stepped closer. “Answer me! Why did you try to kill me?”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Natasha seethed.
“The night of the ambush, you took out her fiancé,” Halston replied. “The first Bratva.”
“You kill my love,” Natasha narrowed her gaze. “I poison you. You don’t die. I shoot you. Stupid man jump in front.”
Gabriel’s lips drew back over his teeth as a growl shot out of him. “A revenge hit.”
“Yes, revenge,” Natasha replied.
“My absolute favorite kind,” Gabriel bit out. “This is for you, Angelo.”
RATATATATATAT!!!
Natasha dropped, blood pouring from her wounds.
More screaming from the scientists.
Gabriel lowered his rifle, eyed the scientists. “They would have killed all of you as soon as you finished doing their dirty work.”
Halston hurried over to him, hugged him. For the first time in hours, he took a calming breath. She was okay. For him… that was all that mattered.
When she broke away, she peered up at him. “Took you long enough.”
Relief washed over him. “I’m always late to the party.” He broke away. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“What about the scientists?” he asked.
“Petrov killed one of them—Lars. He’s in the back room.”
“We need to get them out,” Gabriel said.
“The body of a Bratva guard is hidden in the woods,” she murmured. “He’s wrapped in bedding.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened. “You took him out?”
“Yes. I was trying to get the scientists out, but Natasha and Petrov came back.”
Halston’s dad stepped forward. “There’s a lot of violence happening here. Would someone tell us what’s really going on?”
The front door opened, a man entered, clutching his side and pulling his leg along, as if lame. “Help me.”
He collapsed on the cold, hard floor.
Gabriel pointed his long gun. “Who’s that?”
“The ambassador, Yuri Bulgrov,” Halston said. “Petrov shot him.”
“These people have no loyalty,” Gabriel said.
Halston took a step toward the ambassador.
“Take my weapon,” he said.
Halston pulled the gun hidden in her waist. “I took this off the guard.”
Gabriel checked the magazine. “Seven bullets and one in the chamber.” He regarded Bulgrov before unearthing his phone.
“You have to go outside for signal,” Halston said.
“Don’t go near him until I come back in.” Gabriel handed her back the Bratva’s weapon. “I need to check on the team. They left after me, but I couldn’t find the building.”
She smiled. “Not good with maps?”
His lips twitched. Even in the midst of mayhem, Halston was still Halston. “Stay away from the ambassador.”
Gabriel hurried outside, called Teddy.
“Where the hell are you?” Teddy barked into the cold night.
“I’m at the sight where the scientists are being held hostage. Barbi too.”
“These roads are all a bunch of dead ends,” Sydney said.
“Take the fourth right. Teddy, we need clean up on aisle five.”
“Nice work. Are you and Barbi okay?”
“All good,” Gabriel said. “We got a situation.”
“You think?” Teddy boomed through the phone’s speaker. “Three minutes out.”
The line went dead and Gabriel heaved in a breath. But they weren’t in the clear yet. They were up to their eyeballs in problems. Dead Russians, a wounded ambassador, and a roomful of scientists trying to unknowingly destroy the country’s electrical grid.
“Something has got to go right,” Gabriel said, as he yanked open the door and headed back inside.
As Gabriel expected, Halston hadn’t stayed away from Bulgrov. She was kneeling next to him, examining his wounds. A bullet in his abdomen. A second into his upper thigh. The wounds had clotted, but he was weak and appeared to be in a lot of pain.
Gabriel glared down at him. “What’s your story?”
“I’m the Russian Ambassador. Minka is my assistant.” He shifted to her. “I’m sorry. They forced my hand. Made me go along. You heard Petrov, he was insane.” His eyes softened. “Please, Minka, help me.”