SEVENTEEN #3
The door on Jolie’s side flew open. “Out.”
Stina didn’t move.
The rifle came up. “Now.”
Jolie slid out, but not because she was cooperating. Stina could see it in the set of her shoulders, in the way she moved too slowly, forcing him to waste precious seconds. Stina followed, boots slipping on loose gravel and old snow as she climbed out onto the narrow shelf.
Below them on the main road, vehicles skidded to a stop.
Sierra!
Doors flew open. Men poured out, taking positions, rifles coming up.
“Drop your weapon!”
“Let them go!”
The men’s voices tore through the pass, sharp and commanding, and Stina’s heart kicked so hard it hurt. Rome was here. Archer too. They just needed a few more seconds.
The kidnapper shoved the rifle against Jolie’s back and hauled both women in front of him, using their bodies as a shield while he backed toward the helicopter. Stina risked a glance up the shelf and confirmed what she already knew—the rotors were turning faster now, the helicopter ready to lift.
He intended to shove them inside and fly away.
Jolie planted her feet and flat-out refused to move. Stina stood her ground right beside her.
“Walk!” he growled.
“No.” Jolie dug in harder.
Below them, Sierra held their fire.
At first Stina didn’t understand why.
Then she did.
Jolie stood directly in front of him.
Every angle put her in the line of fire.
One missed shot. One ricochet. One fraction of a second too late, and the bullet meant for him would hit her instead.
He knew it.
He was counting on it.
The realization hit Stina and Jolie at the same moment. She saw it in her friend’s eyes—the same cold understanding.
His whole body tightened with fury. He dropped the rifle enough to lunge for Jolie, his gloved hand wrapping around her throat as he slammed her against the rock face.
Stina launched herself at his side and started swinging, fists pounding at his arm and shoulder and anywhere she could reach. “Let her go!”
The men below were shouting now, voices overlapping in a roar, but nobody fired.
Nobody could.
The man turned his masked face toward Jolie, fingers tightening against her throat. “I need to know what you know,” he growled over the roar of the chopper.
Jolie was gasping, but her chin came up anyway. “Then you have a problem.”
The helicopter rotors thundered louder.
The man’s head snapped toward the sound, and that split second was all Archer needed.
He rocketed up the side of the shelf with inhuman speed and hit the kidnapper low and hard, tearing him off Jolie. The rifle went skidding over the gravel toward the edge. Stina stumbled back while Archer shoved Jolie, folded over and coughing, out of harm’s way.
Someone flashed past Stina and she looked up in time to see Rome land a brutal punch that knocked their attacker’s head back.
The man twisted free with shocking speed and bolted for the helicopter.
“He’s getting away!” Stina screamed.
Below them Sierra opened fire, but it was too late.
The helicopter had already lifted off, clearing the shelf just as the man grabbed hold and hauled himself inside.
It banked hard over the ridge and vanished into the lightening sky.
Stina stood frozen, chest heaving, every part of her shaking now that it was over.
Then Rome was there.
He reached her in three strides and dragged her against him so hard she lost her breath. One arm banded around her shoulders, the other around her waist, locking her to the front of his body like he was afraid she’d disappear if he loosened his grip.
“Jesus…Christ.” His voice broke on the words. “Stina.”
She clutched the front of his jacket and pressed her face into his chest. His heart was pounding as hard as hers. He smelled like cold air and gunpowder and the clean, sharp scent of soap she’d started associating with safety.
“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook.
He reached for her face, saw her bruised cheek and stopped.
“I’ll fucking kill him.” His deadly tone made goose bumps erupt all over her body. “I will hunt him down and kill him.”
Something even darker and more violent than his oath flashed across his face before he buried it. Then he pulled her in again, tucking her against his side so tightly she could barely move.
She closed her eyes and gave up trying to stop her body from trembling. This was exactly where she belonged.
Behind him, Archer had Jolie wrapped in his arms while the rest of the team spread across the road below, shouting orders as they tried to salvage something from the chaos.
But Stina couldn’t focus on any of it, not with Rome’s arms around her. Not with his chest rising hard against the uninjured side of her face and his racing heartbeat in her ear. Not with the knowledge that she was still here, still breathing, because Rome and his team had come for them.
He lowered his mouth to her hair. “I’ve got you.” His voice rough enough to scrape. “You’re safe now.”
For the first time since Rivers came for them in the greenhouse, Stina believed it.
Then memory sliced through her.
She jerked her head up. “Oh god! Rivers!”