CHAPTER 24 #2
I emptied the clip into the doorway and followed her, diving into the narrow service hallway just as the wine cellar below us detonated. The floor bucked. The explosion roared through the walls, blowing out the ventilation grates.
I slammed into something hard. A mercenary with a shotgun, guarding the back exit.
He brought the barrel up. I didn't have room to shoot. I slammed my shoulder into his chest, driving him back against the wall. The shotgun went off, blasting a hole in the ceiling. I jammed my knife into his stomach, ripped it upward, and stepped back as he slid down the wall.
I spun his body around, using it to shield Scarlett from the spray of blood and debris raining down from the ceiling.
"The cellar is breached!" I grunted, shoving the dead weight aside. "They want the foundations gone!"
The corridor was filling with black, oily smoke. It burned my throat, tasting like plastic and death. Scarlett was coughing, pressing her face into the crook of my neck.
"Breathe," I commanded, though my own lungs were screaming. "Don't panic. Stay focused."
"Where are we going, Nikolai?" she gasped. "There's nothing left!"
She was right. The heat was blistering. I checked the radio frequency one last time. Static.
"They left us," I said, smashing the radio against the wall. "Every last bastard ran."
"Good," Scarlett said, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed but fierce. "Less noise in my head."
I used my elbow to smash a small, high window, letting a stream of cool night air rush in. It fed the fire behind us, but it gave us a second of clarity.
"We have to go through the foyer," I said. "The service exit is blocked by the collapse."
"The foyer is on fire, Nikolai!"
"It's the only way to the conservatory."
We backtracked, crouching low under the smoke layer. We burst back into the main foyer. It was hell. The front doors were gone, blocked by a burning beam. The heat was so intense it felt like a physical punch to the face.
I kicked a burning piece of mahogany out of the way, feeling the heat sear through the leather of my shoe.
On the floor, near the stairs, lay a dead mercenary. His tactical vest was torn open. I grabbed the fabric and yanked it up.
There, on the velcro patch, was a silver crest. A falcon holding a key.
"Look, Scarlett," I pointed. "The emblem. Your fucking family."
She stared at it. The proof. It wasn't just a theory anymore. Her father had paid for the bullets.
She let out a scream—a raw, choked sound that was swallowed by the roar of the fire. She grabbed her hair, staring up at the burning ceiling.
"Let me go! It’s all gone! Every goddamn thing is gone!"
I grabbed her shoulder, my fingers digging into her flesh through the silk. I shook her hard.
"Do NOT break now! He doesn't get to win!"
"He's a monster!" she shrieked, tears cutting tracks through the soot on her face. "He killed me, Nikolai! I'm dead to him!"
"This is what he is, Scarlett. A monster."
She looked ready to collapse, to just let the fire take her. I couldn't let that happen.
I grabbed the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her messy hair, and yanked her face to mine. I crushed my mouth against hers. It wasn't romantic. It was violent. It tasted of smoke, blood, and desperation. I bit her lip, hard, forcing her to feel something other than grief.
"You're mine, Scarlett," I growled against her mouth. "The fire doesn't get you. I do."
She gasped, her hands gripping the lapels of my suit. The hysteria in her eyes faded, replaced by that dark, sharp hunger I recognized.
I pulled back, breathing hard. "We are not dying here. You understand? We survive this. Together."
She licked the blood from her lip, her eyes clearing. The hunter was back.
"Tell me you trust me, Scarlett. Say it."
"I trust you, bastard," she spat. "Lead the way."
We moved toward the rear of the house, heading for the conservatory. The walls were peeling away from the heat. I hugged the few sections of drywall that were still standing.
Through the glass walls of the conservatory, I saw the glint of a scope.
"Snipers," I said. "They knew we would head for the glass."
"We have to go through them, Nikolai. We don't have time to wait."
The roof above the library groaned. It was coming down.
"When I fire, you run," I said, checking my mag. Three rounds. "Don't look back."
"I'm not leaving you, Nikolai. You made me promise to run harder."
"Just run!"
I slammed the butt of my gun into the glass wall. It shattered, raining shards down on us. I stepped out, raising my weapon.
I fired into the dark, drawing the attention of the shooters.
Crack. Crack.
Return fire ripped through the air. I felt a sledgehammer impact on my left shoulder. A graze. It burned like a branding iron. I grunted, stumbling back, but I didn't stop moving.
"Shit! Are you hit, you bastard?" Scarlett yelled, grabbing my sleeve to steady me. She raised her Sig and fired blindly into the trees.
"Keep running, Scarlett! Keep running!"
We sprinted across the lawn. The grass was wet with dew, slippery under my smooth soles. Fifty yards. Forty.
Behind us, a sound like the earth cracking open tore through the night.
I tackled Scarlett, dragging her down as the estate groaned and imploded. The roof collapsed inward, sending a massive tower of sparks and debris into the sky. The shockwave hit us a second later, a wall of hot air and dust.
"That's it," I panted, looking back at the ruin. "That's the end of Collateral."
Scarlett was on her knees, coughing, staring at the bonfire that used to be her prison.
"Listen to that sound, Scarlett," I said, hauling her up. My shoulder was throbbing, warm blood soaking my shirt. "That's freedom."
We stumbled into the tree line, the darkness of the woods finally swallowing us. The air here smelled of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the burning chemical stench behind us.
I pushed her against a tree, quickly checking her over. She was covered in soot, her legs scratched, a piece of glass embedded in her thigh. I pulled it out. She didn't even flinch.
"We are ghosts now," I said, wiping a smudge of ash from her cheek with my thumb. "Every second counts. They think we're ash. Let them believe it."
Sirens were wailing in the distance now. Blue and red lights flickered through the trees. The clean-up crew. Or the cops. It didn't matter. We couldn't be found.
I looked back at the fire one last time, then turned to the deep woods. I held out my hand, but then I stopped. I looked at her.
"Your father’s men are looking for survivors," I said, gesturing vaguely toward the driveway. "You can try to run back to them. Play the victim. Maybe he won't finish the job."
It was the test. The final one.
Scarlett looked at the flashing lights, then at the dark, impenetrable woods behind me. She looked at the blood on my shoulder and the gun in my hand.
She stepped forward, placing her hand over mine on her waist.
"No," she said, her voice steady and cold as ice. "I chose the fire, Nikolai. Take me."
I felt a grim satisfaction settle in my chest, heavier and more permanent than the gold bars I’d lost in the house. The debt was paid. Not in money, but in loyalty.
"Let's go," I said.
We turned our backs on the light and walked into the dark.