Chapter 34
Ash
“We need to move,” I say, breaking into a run. “Piper’s still in there.”
“We’ll take the other side,” Killian calls out as I lead my team up the nearest fire escape.
Hunter and I flatten ourselves on both sides of the entry door to the second floor.
He opens it, and I step into a long corridor that runs the length of the lodge, my rifle raised.
The floor is littered with empty shell casings and the bodies of three men.
Two are Killian’s. Whatever battle had happened here had given Marina the chance to flee.
There are shots and yells coming from the floor below, suggesting that’s where the battle has moved to. This floor is quiet. Unnervingly so.
Hunter is a step behind me, his rifle scanning the doors on one side, while I focus on the other.
Some doors are open, some closed, but all pose a potential threat.
Prepared for an attack at any moment, I scan the numbers on the doors.
Odd numbered rooms are on the left, evens on the right.
I count the doors to Piper’s room. From this distance, her door looks closed and I pray she’s in there alone.
Our men file in behind us, and I silently direct them to search each room we pass. There’s only one room I intend to enter. A flurry of gunfire behind me confirms some of the rooms weren’t empty, but it’s our men who return to the corridor where Mace and Reid have also just appeared.
All my brothers have my back now, and I concentrate on moving forward. I’m four rooms away. Three. Two. One.
The wood around the lock to Piper’s door is shredded. Shots have been fired to get inside and as I tap the door with my foot, it swings open. The drapes are drawn, but there’s enough light from a bedside lamp for me to do a quick sweep of the room. It’s empty.
My heart thuds in my chest. Did Oleg and his men break down the door before or after Marina made her bid for freedom?
Did he come back to check the room? Has he got Piper?
My rational brain points out that he was the hostage taker.
He would have had the room key. It was probably Killian’s men that broke in.
Mace follows me into the dimly lit room.
He’s the expert in shadows and hiding places, and he heads for the closet, tipping his head for me to check the bathroom.
I ignore him and crouch down to take a look under the bed.
I swear Mace rolls his eyes at me because it’s too obvious.
For a grown man, sure. But not for a five-year-old.
Two bright and terrified eyes stare back at me from beneath the bed. I will Piper to recognize me as her mom’s friend, but she shuffles backwards.
“Oleg’s in one of the end rooms,” Hunter whispers in my earpiece. “The pussy’s shouting out threats,”
We can’t let Oleg know Piper’s still alive, and as much as I want to persuade my daughter out of her hiding place, she’s safer where she is for now. It’s better if they think I have nothing left to lose.
I place a finger over my lips, and wink at my daughter.
Maybe my little girl does recognize me after all, because she winks back.
Scrambling to my feet, I find Mace by the door. He’s made a full sweep of the room to confirm that no one else is in here, and it hurts my heart to leave Piper alone. But the threat to her life remains while Oleg and Barrett are still breathing. I need to take them out.
When we reenter the corridor, I pull two of our men to guard the door. The rest are lining the corridor, their backs pressed against the walls. All weapons point at a door two rooms down from Piper’s.
Hunter and Reid are closest to our new target, and look over their shoulders at me.
Their smiles tell me they’ve worked out I’ve located my daughter.
It could be the fact I’ve put two of our men on guard duty, but it might just be my stupid grin.
I school my features so I don’t give away the secret to anyone else.
We’re inching towards our quarry when the door swings open. There’s a pause, and when Oleg seems satisfied that we’re not going to open fire right away, he shuffles out with Barrett pinned to his front, an arm around his throat and a gun to his head.
“Are you fucking serious?” I ask, unable to hold back the laugh. I move a step closer, my rifle aimed at Barrett’s head and by extension, Oleg’s throat. “That man isn’t a shield, you prick. He’s a target. Did you tell him what you did out there?”
Barrett whimpers, but one glare from me shuts him up. He knows. Or he thinks he does.
Behind Oleg, another door opens at the furthest end of the corridor. Two armed Russians appear from the inner stairwell. Oleg’s called for backup. They’re embarrassingly outnumbered, but as my men take aim, Hunter and Reid become the Russians’ targets in a counter move. We’ve reached a stalemate.
“It’s interesting that you didn’t shoot both of us on reflex, Ash,” Oleg says with a confidence he’s going to regret. “After everything this asshole has done to you, you still have a conscience. Admirable. But foolish.”
“Says the man who’s made an enemy of everyone, and is now a friend of a no-one,” I say, flicking my gaze to Barrett.
“I don’t need friends like him anymore,” Oleg replies. “You can have him, Ash. If you take his place.” He smirks as he looks from Hunter, to Reid, then back to me. “Surely your family has suffered enough loss for one day.”
If someone were to open fire right now, it would be a bloodbath.
But it won’t be my men pulling the trigger first. And it won’t be my brothers.
They might let their emotions run away with them on occasion, and that’s something I’ve been guilty of recently too, but not today.
We work as one with a single goal. To protect a five-year-old girl. Our girl.
Tension builds when there’s a fresh development that Oleg and his men are yet to notice.
“I’d be willing to take Barrett’s place,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed on Oleg and not the shift in shadows behind him. “But I’m curious. What then? Assuming you get away, how far do you think you’ll get before you’re hunted down?”
Oleg launches into a gleeful account of how he has an armored car ready and waiting, and that he’s rigged up a gas canister in the trunk he intends to lock me in.
If he’s attacked, I’ll be dead in seconds.
We all listen intently, including Oleg’s men, who haven’t noticed the arrival of Killian and two others from the inner stairwell.
Killian presses a gun to one of the Russian’s temples and uses his other hand to stifle his cry. In a coordinated move, one of his guys reaches around to grab the guard’s weapon before it can clatter to the floor.
Oleg is far too involved in telling us his getaway plan to notice the assault, but the second guard turns and comes face to face with the barrel of another gun.
He’s marched out through the stairwell as silently as his comrade.
Killian remains in the corridor and Katarina appears next to him. Her eyes sparkle with wicked intent.
“I’m surprised you didn’t learn from Ilya’s mistakes,” I say when Oleg finally stops talking. “You really shouldn’t mess with us. And at least Ilya was a worthy opponent. You’re just…” I look him up and down. “An idiot.”
Killian’s edged closer, gun pointing at Oleg’s head, but Katarina glowers at him. The pair begin a silent argument over who takes the shot.
“Ilya was the idiot,” Oleg says smugly. “He let himself be gutted by a woman for fuck’s sake.”
Killian cocks his head, having stopped gesturing to Katarina long enough to hear what Oleg’s just said. With a smirk, he shrugs. She’s won the honor.
Katarina’s high heels make no sound on the carpet tiles, but I’m surprised Oleg doesn’t hear the sway of her hips as she comes up behind him. In one swift movement, a knife presses against his neck. A gasp catches in Oleg’s throat as she draws the first trickle of blood.
“Ilya wasn’t gutted,” she whispers in his ear. “I have it on good authority that Quinn sliced through an artery before her lover put a bullet in his head.”
“Kotenok…” Oleg gasps in Russian.
Katerina’s blade drips with yet more blood. “I’m not your kitten.”
“But I’ve been waiting for you to join me. We can have so much fun together.”
“Oh, Oleg, the only place I’ll be joining you is in hell,” she purrs. “Keep a seat warm for me.”
“Kata–”
Katarina slices through his neck, severing his vocal cord.
Blood spurts across Barrett and he stumbles forward, released from his captor’s grip.
Oleg drops to the floor and when his head hits the carpet, Killian fires a shot into the back of his skull.
It’s not quite the reenactment of Ilya’s death, but he seems pleased with himself as he turns to wink at Katarina. She gives him a scowl in return.
“Please, Ash,” Barrett says, stumbling forward. His legs give way and he lands on his knees in front of me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant for Piper to get hurt. I just…”
“You just what, Barrett?” I ask, genuinely curious. “What was going on in that twisted mind of yours when you decided to take Belle and my daughter?”
“She’s my wife,” he says as if it were the obvious answer. “You were trying to steal her from me. It wasn’t fair.” He pants hard and the hollow in his throat collects a small pool of Oleg’s blood. “I saw her first. I loved her first.”
“And yet you left her for dead. That’s a strange way to show your love, Barrett.”
“What did you expect?” Mace asks. “He was reared by Alice.”
Barrett’s gaze snaps to my brother. “You didn’t deserve my mother’s love.”
“Oh, believe me,” Mace replies with a mock laugh. “I got that message loud and clear. But fortunately for us, we got the mom we deserved, just like our dad got the wife he deserved. We got Lisa.”
“Hear how he talks to me?” Barrett says, shifting his attention back to me.
“Mace turned you against me just for the fun of it. I looked up to you, Ash. You were my big brother, and all I wanted was for you to stand up for me the way you did the others. But you just stood there and watched Mace beat me up.”
“You were lucky it wasn’t me, or Ash,” Hunter says. “Do you think we didn’t know you planted your mom’s jewelry in his room to frame him?”
“None of you gave me a chance,” Barrett insists.
His eyes shimmer with tears. Of course, he’d cry for himself. Not for Belle. And not for Piper.
“I don’t have time to waste on you,” I say. I need to be with my daughter.
“What do we do with him?” asks Reid.
While my brothers keep their fingers on their triggers, I’ve already lowered my gun.
Oleg was right. I could have taken the shot when he dragged Barrett into the corridor.
But as much as I despise the man, he is our brother, and despite my need to end his sorry existence, I’m struggling with my conscience.
There’s more shooting outside, but on this floor at least, the conflict is drawing to a close.
The longer I put off killing Barrett, the more it becomes a cold-blooded execution.
I’m surrounded by enough people who would gladly put a bullet in his skull, but they’re all waiting for me to decide. If it has to be done, it has to be me.
I scratch the bristles on my chin. We could look for a way to put a yoke around Barrett’s neck to keep him in line. It’s an option I’m willing to consider, and I’m about to give the order to restrain him, when an explosion rocks the lodge. It’s followed by a distinctively high-pitched yelp.
“They’re just blowing up the bunker,” Mace says.
My gaze hasn’t left Barrett. The cry was from a terrified child hiding under her bed. Barrett heard it too, and his reaction wasn’t one of relief. It was annoyance.
“You gave the order to kill her,” I say coldly.
It’s not a question. There’s no more discussion to be had. My so-called brother isn’t worth another second of my time. I squeeze the trigger, and I’m already turning away as his body hits the floor.