Chapter 32
LUKE
“Let’s get out of here.”
My adrenaline is pumping out of control as I cut the zip ties from Kate’s and Becky’s wrists.
These bastards will pay, dearly.
I wrap my left arm around Kate so that I’m free to shoot the men still lurking around the office.
I don’t know how many are left. I found one dead in the break room, shot one down in the stairwell, and sliced the neck of one in front of my office at the same time Kate took a shot.
My heart stopped at the sound of the gunshot. I thought he was aiming at her.
“I have a bad feeling,” I grumble to myself.
We’re crouched behind my desk, a stream of light pouring over Kate. Her dress is soaked with sweat and clinging to her body, drops of blood from her wrists staining the front. I want to kiss and hold her close while simultaneously strangling the man who made her bleed.
I open the bottom drawer and pull out the stack of files to reveal the bullet proof vest underneath. I take my sweat soaked shirt off to strap it on, fully intending to take a bullet if necessary.
“Haven’t you done this before when you were, like . . . on top-secret missions?” she asks, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes as they roam over my shoulders.
“Yes, but I wasn’t usually so . . . distracted.”
My eyes dip over her exposed cleavage, nipples poking out against the silk of her dress. I swallow, forcing my mind to focus on the fact that we could get shot at any second. I look away, debating on which direction to go.
“The FBI should be here any second. They should already be in the stairwell.”
Becky from HR perks up. “Aren’t you under investigation?”
My gaze sharpens in on her face as I wonder how the hell she knows that.
Kate must know too. Does she know why?
I ignore the question while reloading my gun.
“I think we should go down the north stairs. I’ll take the lead. Stay close.”
I grab Kate’s hand, standing to run toward the side of the building all of the office employees exited on. The fact that everyone started to evacuate nearly immediately after the power went out isn’t settling well with me.
“Why did everyone evacuate?” I whisper as we turn a corner, only a hall away from the stairs now.
“Georginne told everyone the power wasn’t coming back on at all today,” Becky says, panting like she just ran ten miles.
I slow the pace a bit.
Hmm, interesting.
“What happened to you, Kate?”
We reach the stairs, and I open the door to check and see if the coast is clear. I nod my head to indicate they enter, watching the hall for any potential followers.
“I was in the lobby restroom when Georginne came in, saying they needed me as bait. Nikolai came in and she disappeared. He pushed up the stairs.”
She’s panting for breath while Becky is wheezing so loudly that she’ll either pass out or give our position away. I slow down the pace.
I suspected Georginne was a part of this, but now that I have confirmation, I can move forward with dealing with her.
We still have fifty-five floors to get down, which doesn’t seem like a viable option at this rate if we want to keep Becky alive.
Noises in the stairwell echo as a door opens, followed by heavy footsteps above us. I have no choice but to lead them to level fifty-four, holding the door open until they both make it through. I catch a glimpse of a black boot right as the door shuts.
When I turn around, I see that we’re in a studio used to photograph products. There are stations set up with lighting, backdrops, and sofas.
“We need to hide until the FBI gets here.”
“Oh my gosh,” Kate whispers.
Directly in front of us are several rows of dark objects, shaped like . . . dicks. Rows and rows of them in all colors, shapes, and sizes.
“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” Becky murmurs, inspecting the hundreds of sex toys on display.
“We need to find a place to hide. Now.”
I shuffle them into the next room right as we hear the door from the stairs into the office opening.
This room is lined with shelves, holding various bottled products.
We keep going, and the next door finally leads to a bigger area filled with boxes and packing supplies.
It seems to extend up to the next level.
Two-story-tall industrial shelves, laden with cardboard boxes, create the perfect space to hide in.
“Find somewhere out of sight,” I tell Becky.
She begins to scale the side of a shelf like an orangutan, disappearing into the maze.
“What do they want from you?” Kate whispers, reaching out to hold my hand.
“They want to find out what I know about Steelhart. I don’t have time to explain now, but . . . I want you to know I’m so sorry you were dragged into this, Kate. I’ll get you out of here alive.”
We slide into a sliver between two rows, hiding between the boxes and the back wall right as the door opens.
“Vy mertvy, amerikantsy!” the intruder exclaims in Russian.
He starts shooting at the boxes, the sound echoing in my ears. I pull Kate closer, wrapping her in my arms and covering her ears. My heart is thundering in my chest. She squeezes my hand.
If anything else happens to Kate, I will never forgive myself. I hug her tighter, planting a kiss on her forehead before moving toward the shooter.
She grabs for me, but I slip away. She needs to be safe, and I’m not afraid to die.
I’m on the edge of the boxes, ready to stick my head through to meet him face-to-face.
The cold resolve takes over me, much like it did when I was in the field on completely black ops missions with my team.
Every mission felt like it could potentially be our last. I was never afraid to die, none of us were.
Maybe his shooting will give our position away to the FBI.
I’m holding my breath, gun clutched to my chest. The deafening bullets raining down on us finally halts. His light footsteps are getting steadily closer to our hiding spot. At any moment, he’ll be upon us, and I’ll have to shoot him between the eyes in the dark.
Another set of steps joins in with him. They’re speaking Russian to each other. They start moving in different directions. I hold my breath when one gets closer to me, his heavy boots scraping against the cement floor.
I glance back at Kate one last time before jumping out and grabbing his gun.
He grunts in surprise, firing it. I already had control of the barrel, pointing it skyward.
I hold my handgun up to his throat and pull the trigger.
Blood spatters my face from the close range, the sound echoing through my eardrums.
The next thing I know, the remaining shooter is swarmed with agents, dropping his firearm almost as soon as they enter the room.
A few moments later, I hear Rick directing his team to check the rest of the building for the remainder of the mercenaries.
Kate and I emerge just in time to see Becky hopping down from her hiding place. The lights come back on, and a paramedic finally reaches us on the fifty-fourth floor.
My tense muscles relax, and I release a heavy sigh of relief when I realize that she’s finally safe.
The room with all the sofas and dildos has become the central hub of the FBI agents investigating the attack.
Kate’s and Becky’s wrists are being bandaged while a man in a black suit asks them both for their account of the day’s events. I can’t stop watching Kate, wishing I could erase the traumatic day out of her memory. I can’t fathom how shitty I would feel if she’d actually been seriously injured or—
“Luke, are you listening to me?” Rick’s voice snaps me back to the present.
My eyes meet his, watching his gaze trail to where mine was stuck.
“Ah, so that’s why they finally came after you.”
“What?”
“They needed leverage.”
“They could’ve used Fallon for leverage,” I remind him.
“Fallon’s been with Garrison, and you’re hardly ever around her.”
The mention of his name reminds me of the entire reason we’re in this mess. Now that the Russians working for Tycos have resurfaced, what does that mean for Garrison’s involvement and my sister’s safety?
“Yeah, so about that. When are you finally going to lock him up?”
Rick shakes his head. “This isn’t a cut-and-dried situation, Luke. We’re getting closer, but we have some vital pieces missing. Thanks to today, we have two more leads to follow.”
Georginne and the only other surviving Russian mercenary were taken out in handcuffs.
“In the next few days and weeks, we’ll keep you updated on what surfaces with these two. In the meantime, you need to sit back and try to relax. We’re handling it.”
Handling it, my ass.
In the last two years, they’ve been investigating Reid’s death and the failed mission to kill Tycos, Russia’s leading mob boss. Whether or not they’re close to solving it is a mystery. They certainly haven’t been able to link Garrison to any of the guilty parties.
The sinking feeling in my gut confirms one thing for certain.
It’s time for me to tell Fallon the classified information about what happened in Dubai.
I wasn’t prepared when she sprang it on me that she was marrying Garrison, but her safety is my top priority.
I told her he wasn’t a good guy and she shouldn’t marry him, but she refused to listen.
I was afraid telling her the truth of what happened could only put her in more danger, but things have changed.
If the mercenaries are activated and going after the SEALs who know what happened that night, will Fallon be safer if I tell her about her husband’s part in it all?
She has to know. You have to tell her. This is all your fault for telling Kate about the mole.
The determination begins to settle in my mind, and I look around at the agents in the room I’ll need to evade if I want to get this information to Fallon without being overheard. Their infiltration techniques get more advanced every year. I never know who’s listening.
I walk up to Kate, seated on the plush red velvet sofa near a table of dildos. An agent is still questioning her, but she’s clearly exhausted.
“I’m taking her home. You can set up an appointment with her if you have any more questions.”
The man starts to protest, but I ignore him, reaching for her hand.
“Let’s go.”
The look of relief on her features is evident, and I regret letting them talk to her for so long in her state.
She needs to rest and recuperate. I tuck her under my arm.
We pass by Becky on the way out, who I would also rescue, except that she’s excitedly retelling the cake-smashing part of the day to a group of FBI agents.
Nikolai died from an extreme allergy to cocoa powder, thanks to Becky’s online stalking skills.
One guy stops her in the middle. “How did you know he was allergic though? To the point you’d be able to incapacitate him and get away?”
She smirks, winking at him. “This is what I do, honey. I had that boy’s name for one night, but I could tell you anything you wanna know.”
They erupt with questions, which Becky begins to answer one at a time.
Kate giggles as we get to the elevator.
“Think they’ll hire her?”
I shrug. “They’d be crazy not to.”