Chapter 16 #3
“If you’re all dead, there is no payout. That’s the only way you’ll get out of this,” Hayden reasoned. “They’ll just wash their hands of it all.”
“They weren’t happy to be working with us anyway. They decided we were too sloppy, too careless, not organized enough. But our bosses kept saying that we could do the job, so they gave us a chance. But, as you can see, we screwed up.”
“You sure did,” he muttered. “And now what?”
“Now nothing.” He looked at Hayden, then down at the blood pooling beside him. “I’m done. I’m just done.”
“Not quite though.”
“Yes,” he muttered, as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground beside the other two men.
Before Andrea could move, a slow clap echoed throughout the warehouse. She spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs.
From the shadows at the far end of the building, a figure emerged.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit that seemed absurdly out of place in the grimy warehouse.
His silver hair was slicked back, and his face bore the weathered lines of a man who’d spent decades orchestrating violence from behind a desk.
“Bravo,” the man said, his accent thick—Russian, she thought. “Quite the performance. You’ve managed to eliminate my local operation in one evening. Impressive, truly.”
Hayden’s weapon snapped up, trained on the newcomer. “And you are?”
“Salinsky,” the man replied, spreading his hands in a gesture of mock openness. “Viktor Salinsky. The man who runs this organization. Those idiots you just killed?” He gestured dismissively at the bodies. “Middle management at best. Expendable.”
“Then why are you here?” Andrea demanded, stepping forward despite her father’s warning hand on her arm. Then she gasped. “Salinsky? As in Henry Salinsky?”
Salinsky’s cold blue eyes fixed on her. “My brother. My inept Americanized brother who couldn’t manage shit apparently. And I’m here because, my dear, your father has something I need. And, unlike these amateurs, I don’t negotiate with guns and threats. I negotiate with leverage.”
He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the warehouse erupted with movement.
From behind stacked crates and shipping containers, at least one dozen armed men emerged, all with weapons trained on the group.
Red laser sights danced across Andrea’s chest, her father’s forehead, Jerome’s back, Hayden’s eyes.
“You see?” Salinsky continued, walking closer with measured steps. “I’ve been watching this entire debacle unfold. Waiting to see if my brother could handle this mess. He couldn’t. These underlings surely couldn’t. So now I handle it myself.”
Hayden’s jaw clenched, his weapon still raised but now hopelessly outnumbered. “What do you want?”
“Andrea’s father,” Salinsky began, looking directly at Andrea. “He has access to shipping routes, port authorities, customs officials across three continents. I want those access codes. I want those contacts. I want his entire network.”
“Go to hell,” Amir spat.
Salinsky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I expected that response.” He pulled out a phone, tapped the screen, and turned it toward them.
Andrea’s blood ran cold. On the screen was a live video feed of a woman tied to a chair in what looked to be a basement. The woman’s face was bruised, her eyes wide with terror.
“Sophia,” Amir whispered, his face draining of color. “My assistant.”
“And your goddaughter,” Salinsky added. “Yes, I do my research. You have thirty seconds to decide, Mr. Galanis. Your network, or I give the order, and she dies. Then we move to the next person on my list. I have six more of your associates in various locations.”
“You bastard,” Andrea hissed.
Salinsky ignored her, his attention fixed on Amir. “Twenty seconds.”
Hayden’s mind raced, calculating angles, distances, odds.
Twelve armed men, all professionals by the look of them.
Not the street thugs they’d been dealing with.
These were military-trained operatives. Even with Oakley and Trent and Julius and Kane somewhere in the shadows, the odds were not in their favor.
“Ten seconds.”
“Wait,” Amir yelled, his voice breaking. “Wait. I’ll give you what you want. I won’t let her die because of me,” Amir stated firmly. “Not Sophia. Not Andrea. Not anyone else.”
Salinsky lowered the phone, satisfaction crossing his features.
“A wise choice. You’ll come with me now.
We’ll go somewhere more comfortable, and you’ll provide everything I need.
Your daughter and friends will remain here as insurance.
Once I verify the information is genuine, they’ll be released. ”
“That’s not happening,” Hayden stated flatly.
“Then they die and you as well,” Salinsky replied, with a shrug. “Starting with the girl.” He nodded to one of his men, who pressed his gun barrel against Andrea’s temple.
She felt the cold metal against her skin, saw her father’s anguished expression, watched Hayden’s finger tighten on his trigger even though he knew it was suicide.
Then the lights went out, plunging the warehouse in absolute darkness.
Andrea instinctively dropped to the ground.
Gunfire erupted immediately, muzzle flashes creating strobing snapshots of chaos.
Andrea felt someone—Hayden—grab her arm and drag her behind a concrete pillar.
“Stay down!” he shouted over the cacophony.
More gunfire, more screams, the sound of more bodies hitting the floor. Then, as suddenly as it started, silence came.
Emergency lights flickered on, casting everything in a dim red glow.
Andrea looked around, her breath catching. Salinsky’s men were down, all of them, taken out with surgical precision. Standing among them were Oakley and Trent, along with four other operators she didn’t recognize, all in tactical gear.
But Salinsky was gone.
“Where is he?” Hayden demanded, scanning the warehouse.
“There!” Jerome pointed to a service door at the far end, still swinging on its hinges.
Hayden took off at a sprint, Andrea right behind him, despite his shouted protests. They burst through the doorway into a loading bay, where a black SUV was already pulling away, tires squealing.
Hayden raised his weapon, fired three shots that shattered the rear window. The vehicle screeched to a halt. The driver’s door flew open, and Salinsky emerged, using the door as cover, his own weapon trained on Hayden.
“You cost me everything!” Salinsky roared, squeezing off two rounds that forced Hayden to dive behind a concrete barrier.
Andrea scrambled for cover as the two men exchanged fire. Salinsky advanced, his face twisted with rage, firing methodically. Hayden rolled left, came up in a crouch, and returned fire. One shot caught Salinsky in the shoulder, spinning him around.
But the trafficker wasn’t finished. He pivoted, bringing his weapon up for a kill shot. Hayden was faster. Two rounds central body, then one more to the head. Salinsky crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering across the concrete.
Hayden approached cautiously, kicked the gun away, and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He looked back at Andrea, his expression grim. “It’s over.”
Andrea touched his arm. “We still need to get Sophia and the others he mentioned.”
Back inside the warehouse, Oakley was already on his phone, coordinating with local authorities and their own contacts to search the locations provided by Amir. Trent was securing any surviving gunmen, zip-tying their hands behind their backs.
Amir pulled Andrea into a tight embrace. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Not today,” she whispered back. “Not today.”
As she looked over her father’s shoulder at the carnage around them, at Salinsky’s body being covered with a tarp in the loading bay, she felt a weight lift. One threat eliminated. But she knew there would be others. There always were.
For now, though, they had won.
Trent and Oakley hugged her, smiling. Oakley pointed. “See? It’s all good.”
She shook her head. “This is hardly good,” she cried out. “My father’s been hurt.”
Her father snorted from behind her. “It’s nothing to take a couple punches.” He stood and walked over to Jerome. “Hey, you okay?”
Jerome nodded. “Yeah, they caught me by surprise, and holy crap. That one”—he turned and glared at the last man to go down—“he’s got a fist like a hammer.”
Her father helped Jerome to his feet, and both men stood there for a long moment, swaying, but hanging on to each other, giving testament to just how much the two of them had been through.
Andrea walked over and gave Jerome a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
He smiled and gave her a gentle pat on the back. “It’s not your fault, and thank you for helping me. That will not go forgotten.”
She smiled. “You’ve saved my sorry ass quite a few times in the past and not tattled to my father. So, I don’t even consider us close to being even.”
He burst out laughing and grinned as her father turned and glared at the two of them.
Amir snapped, “Sounds as if you guys have been conniving behind my back.” Yet a teasing aspect filled his tone.
She turned and smiled at him. “Only to keep me safe.” She walked over, gave Amir a big hug, and said, “Now, will you guys please go home where you’re safe?”
“And what about you?” Amir asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re hardly safe here.”
“I am safe with Hayden,” she declared. “And, if you keep an apartment close by, we’ll come visit you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, glaring at her.
“Yes. Besides, you’ll get so tired of dealing with me over this foundation, that you’ll be hoping I don’t visit because you won’t want to see me.”
He laughed. “I doubt that’ll happen, … unless of course you spend too much company money on those damn charities,” he bellowed, glaring at her. Still, she saw the twinkle in his eyes.
“Not too much, just enough to help the people who, I think, need to be helped.”