by Katie Reus
He wouldn’t have as much money as he’d have liked, but he could still start over in a Third World country and live like a king. Faking his own death should be easy enough. And he was certain that Hamilton had cash in the safe in his office. That should appease Katya enough.
Alan wasn’t in the CEO’s office much, but he had a key to get inside and he knew the combination to the safe. He’d take what was in there and leave.
As the armed Russian started talking into the radio again, Alan headed toward one of the exits. His heart raced out of control as the gravity of what he was doing settled in. Screw all this, he was done.
“Where are you going?” the man’s voice called out across the lobby, the sound echoing.
He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t bother slowing. “I don’t answer to you.” He shoved at the release bar, exiting into an enclosed hallway that led to one of the parking garages. From there he’d have to cross over to another parking garage and head up to Hamilton’s office through the private stairwell.
Alan sneered at that. Hamilton was all about his privacy, didn’t even let him use that exit. As if he didn’t work just as hard as that bastard.
In the garage he immediately spotted two armed men, nodded at both of them and acted as if he had every damn right in the world to be doing what he was.
If he moved with purpose, it would look as if he was right where he was supposed to be. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that neither of them got on their radios to let Dmitri know what he was doing.
Good.
He turned his own radio on as he breached the entrance with his key. He heard Dmitri talking on it in quiet tones, in Russian, and tuned the man out. Then Alan turned on his flashlight since the dim orange glow from the generator didn’t provide enough light for him.
Gritting his teeth, he started jogging up the stairs, ignoring the ache in his chest as he kept pushing forward. He was more out of shape than he’d realized. It took a while to reach Hamilton’s office because of all the stairs.
Breathing hard, he stopped only when he was at the top. He bent over at the waist, sucked in air.
Move, move, move, he ordered himself. He’d berate himself later for being out of shape. When he tried the door, he stilled when he found it unlocked.
Pulling out a gun Dmitri had given him, he slowly opened the door. There were no signs of life in the wide-open assistant’s area. Still, he stepped out carefully. Sweat rolled down his spine as he listened.
Fear and exertion pressed in on him. His heart was pounding too hard for him to hear much but he took a few more steps toward the assistant’s desk, scanning everywhere as he moved.
There were a lot of windows on the top floor and light from the city streamed in, giving more than enough illumination to see where he was going. No smoke up here, so that was something.
He doubted Isa or her partner had made it all the way up here.
“Drop your gun or I shoot,” a quiet female voice said from his right.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Isa step out of the kitchen area, a gun in her hand, pointing it directly at him.
He could try to swivel and shoot her, but…he wasn’t sure if she was a good shot or not. Considering who her father had been and the fact that four of Dmitri’s men were dead… Yeah, he couldn’t take the chance that she was the lethal killer who’d taken out men who were supposed to be the best.
He stayed still, watching her every move. It would be better to wait until he was closer to her, try to overpower her. If he tried now he’d just end up getting shot.
“I’m putting it down now.” His voice shook as he slowly bent, set it on the floor.
“Turn slowly and kick it over to me.” Her voice was deadly calm.
Ice slithered along his veins, but he did as she said. He was afraid not to. If the bitch gave him an opening, he was going to take it. No way was he getting brought down by some woman.
* * *
Graysen plastered himself against the wall of one of the offices. The smoke on this floor was starting to thin out and he had only two smoke bombs left. He’d used most of them on floors two through seven, trying to weed out where Emerson was being held. It wasn’t the best plan, but he’d been hoping they’d move the prisoners if he smoked them out.
He listened to the low crackle static of a hand-held radio from the only man he’d seen on this floor so far.
A man’s voice came over it in Russian, stating in frustrated terms that the two prisoners had escaped. Graysen understood him perfectly.
Yes! Relief punched through him that Emerson was free. He hadn’t known her long but she was sweet and innocent. The thought of her at the mercy of these men made him see red.
Waiting another moment, he listened as the man responded in quiet tones. It sounded as if they were running low on men, and the plan was to hunt down the blonde and her security partner. So it must be somebody who worked for Red Stone. Not that it really mattered who was with Emerson, as long as they were capable and kept her safe. Graysen felt better knowing she’d escaped, even if he had no idea where to start searching for her.
Now that he knew she was unharmed, he needed to head back up to Isa. They’d been separated for too long, and he couldn’t stand being away from her like this. No matter how safe she might be up in Hamilton’s office.
And right now safe was a very relative term. Until they were out of this building and these men were either under arrest or dead, he wouldn’t rest.
Soft footfalls sounded in the hallway, leading away from him. Graysen slowly peered out of the office door. The smoke was more of a haze now. He could only see one man in the hallway.
Weapon in hand he stepped out, ready to take down the guy, when the man swiveled. Moving lightning fast, the man dove through an open door up ahead.
Thud. Thud.
Bullets slammed through the wall next to the doorway the man had jumped through, hitting the wall closest to Graysen’s head. Graysen crouched and returned fire. He could run or try to finish the guy.
He wasn’t the running type.
He heard a soft thud and a cry of pain, but the man could be faking. He continued firing until he emptied his weapon. Then he withdrew his backup weapon.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Three more bullets slammed into a door across the hall and a few feet away from Graysen. The guy’s aim was way off so maybe Graysen had hit him.
Heart racing, he eased back a few steps and slipped into the nearest doorway. For all he knew this guy was calling for backup. In fact, he had to be, unless he was completely stupid. Graysen couldn’t hear the guy calling on the radio but these guys could have phones. So far he hadn’t found any on the men he’d killed, but no way in hell was he going to get trapped down here.
Keeping his weapon trained on the far doorway, he eased out again, giving up cover as he hurried back down the hall and away from the shooter. He needed to put distance between this floor and himself as soon as possible.
As he neared the end of the hall, only feet from the stairwell door, it flew open.
Graysen barely had time to react.
Turning, he aimed and fired. Crimson bloomed between the man’s eyes before he fell to his knees. Before the body hit the floor, Graysen swiveled, knowing he would be attacked from behind. The man who had fired on him before was in the hallway, staggering. He raised his weapon with one hand, his other hanging limply at his side.
Graysen aimed, fired. The man swayed suddenly and Graysen only grazed his face.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Bullets embedded in the ceiling, wall and floor as the man fell to the ground, his arm flailing wildly as he stumbled.
Graysen pulled the trigger again. This time his aim was true. Another head shot.
The man’s body dropped. Graysen didn’t bother watching him hit the ground, just turned and hurried through the open stairwell door. Carefully and quietly, he let it close behind him.
He listened, heard footsteps som
ewhere above him, and he eased back out into the hallway. There was no movement, so he sprinted back down it, looking for another stairwell entrance. He’d killed eight men by this point.
He wasn’t certain how many more were here, but eight meant he’d hurt the crew here. They had to be getting angry, and when people were angry they did stupid things, acted rashly.
He just hoped that by thinning out these killers, it would help them escape more easily. Because he and Isa were getting the hell out of this building sooner rather than later.
It took him another ten minutes to make it back to the top floor because he had to move slowly. He agonized every second he was away from Isa. Not being able to contact her, not knowing if she was okay—it carved him up inside.
As he entered the lobby outside Hamilton’s office, he froze when he heard a male voice.
“I can help you get out of here.” It sounded like Persky.
Rage filled Graysen at the sound of the man who was responsible for putting Isa in danger. Moving quietly, he hurried toward the open doorway of Hamilton’s office.
Weapon up, he couldn’t hide his shock when he saw Persky plastered against the huge window overlooking the city. The man’s hands were above his head and firmly against the window as he faced the cityscape.
And Isa was holding him at gunpoint.
She pushed out a sigh of relief when she saw Graysen standing there. “I didn’t want to get too close to him. So I made him stand like that so I could see his every move.”
Smart. He couldn’t believe how steady she was. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. He never touched me. I got the drop on him.” Her voice was filled with just a hint of pride.
Graysen nodded in approval. Damn, she was something. “Don’t take your weapon off him.”
“No problem.”
Keeping an eye on Persky by the window, Graysen found a tie in the personal armoire Hamilton had filled with extra suits. He wrenched Persky’s arms behind his back and secured his wrists together, ignoring the grunt of pain the man made.
“Watch the door,” he said softly to Isa, who nodded. He returned his attention to the bastard who was behind all this. “How many of your guys are in the building?”
“Fuck you,” Persky snarled.
Graysen grabbed the back of Persky’s head, twisting his fingers in the man’s hair. Then he slammed his face into the window. The sickening crunch of his nose breaking sounded in time with the window rattling ominously.
The man cried out in pain. “Twelve, twelve!”
Graysen shoved Persky’s face against the window, ignoring his continuing cries of agony “Twelve exactly?”
Persky’s face was scrunched up in pain, but he shook his head. “Fourteen total. Including me.”
Graysen had taken out eight men so five were left, since he had Persky. He really, really liked those odds. He could take out five more guys, no problem.
That was, if Persky was actually telling the truth. Since he didn’t have time to question the guy and gauge if he actually was, Graysen was still going to be cautious. He patted Persky down, searching for weapons or a phone. Found nothing. Of course not. Why would life be that damn easy? “Where’s your phone?”
“In the lobby,” he rasped out, blood trailing over his lips.
“Why don’t you have it?”
“Left it in case…they tried to track me.”
Well wasn’t that interesting. Maybe Persky was bailing on his partners. Graysen didn’t care at this point. He just wanted to get the hell out of here with Isa. He wanted to know, in very specific detail, why the hell Persky and his men had attacked this place, but wouldn’t waste time questioning him now. They’d get their answers later.
He grabbed Persky’s bound wrists, turned and shoved him toward the exit. Graysen looked at Isa. “If this bastard is telling the truth, there are only five guys left. I’ve already taken out eight. We’ll go down through the private stairwell.” He yanked Persky to a sudden stop. “How many men are in the parking garage?”
“Only…o…one that I saw.” The man was trembling now, the stench of fear rolling off him palpable.
Graysen couldn’t afford to believe him. “Stay behind me,” he murmured to Isa, who still had her weapon in hand.
She nodded, her expression tight, and quickly moved behind him as they headed for the stairwell. They’d hidden her laptop in Hamilton’s office but he knew she still had the flash drive tucked into her skirt pocket. One way or another, this information was getting to the right people.
“How were you planning on getting out of here?” Graysen asked Persky.
He didn’t answer right away so Graysen slammed his face against the wall by the stairwell exit door. The drywall cracked under the impact and when he pulled Persky back, a smear of blood stained the pale blue wall.
The man screamed in pain.
“Shut the fuck up.” Rage pulsed through Graysen, the urge to kill this son of a bitch right here and now nearly overwhelming. “You put the woman I love in danger, sent men to kill her. I will start putting bullet holes in you if you don’t answer me when I ask a question.” His tone was calm, which he knew would terrify Persky more than if he’d yelled. Good. He wanted the guy pissing-his-pants scared. Because Graysen meant every damn word. He didn’t relish torturing people but he’d do whatever it took to get the truth from Persky.
He made a sniffling, gurgling sound and spit out blood onto the floor. “Company car…has keys in the console. Big, white Cadillac. Bullet…resistant.” His words came out nasal-sounding.
“You planning on ditching your partners?”
Surprising Graysen, Persky nodded. “This wasn’t supposed…to happen. Was supposed to be easy money.” He sniffled again, his words almost slurred now.
“What about Raptor’s security people?” Graysen already knew something must have happened to the security team unless the guys were in on whatever this thing was.
Persky swallowed hard. “Dead.”
Graysen gritted his teeth as he rested his hand on the release bar. He wanted to pummel Persky again for the admission. Who knew how many security guys had been murdered because they’d had the bad luck to be on the wrong shift. He couldn’t think about that now.
“You ready?” he murmured to Isa.
“Yeah.”
Though he wanted to pull her into his arms, to comfort her somehow, he couldn’t. He’d save it for later. For once they got out of here.
It seemed to take forever to get down the seventeen floors since Persky was having a hard time keeping pace. The man was out of shape, but Graysen had messed his nose up and his breath was sawing in and out as if he’d pass out at any moment. If Graysen had to guess, the guy was about to lose it completely. He must have had grand plans to try to rip off his company and now everything had gone to shit for him. If Graysen could just stash him somewhere he would, but he couldn’t risk Persky getting free or warning someone that they were attempting an escape from the building. Plus he was making damn sure this guy was delivered to the cops.
At the bottom of the stairwell, he turned to Isa. “If shit goes sideways—”
“I’m not leaving you, so save it.” Even in the muted orange light he could see her determined expression.
“You’re so stubborn.”
“Yeah, I am… Did you mean what you said up there, that you still love me?”
The words had just slipped out when he’d been threatening Persky. Because Persky had put the woman he loved in danger. He kept his gaze locked on her. “Yes.” He turned away before she could respond because he didn’t want to see pity in her eyes. He loved her. Had never stopped.
She might consider everything between them a lie, and he understood it. Didn’t mean it had all been a lie to him.
“We’re going to use the vehicles as cover to the main exit—which will be to the west. If you try to alert anyone, I’ll put a bullet in your head. Got it?” he snarled to Persky, who just nodded.
Once they were out in the garage everything was a hell of a lot darker. And colder. He wished he’d found shoes for Isa, hated that her feet were all torn up. The socks he’d taken from one of the dead men would just have to do for now.
They were on the bottom floor at least and wouldn’t have to hike up or down floors in the garage. The only problem was, the actual exit was guaranteed to be guarded.
It didn’t sound as if it would be heavily watched, considering how many guys Graysen had taken down. But there was also the possibility that Persky was lying about how many people were here. Considering the guy had no moral code, Graysen was betting there were more armed men.
Icy wind cut through his shirt as he shoved Persky toward a four-door truck to their right. It wasn’t the best cover but it would have to do. Once they were all behind it, he lifted his head, scanned the rest of this floor of the garage.
Streams of outside light, probably from a neighboring building, illuminated the exit about fifty yards away. Multiple rows of parking and concrete barriers were in their way—not to mention heavily armed men potentially lurking around.
He pointed to a car three spots away. It would be their next cover. Persky nodded as Isa did the same.
Graysen stepped out first, using Persky as a human shield and making sure Isa was directly behind him. His rubber-soled boots and the rustle of their clothing barely made a sound as they moved but all the hair on the back of his neck rose.
That intrinsic survival instinct kicked in just as a man holding a pistol stepped out from behind a van in the parking row across from them.
“Drop your weapon!” Graysen held his pistol out past Persky’s body, but still held Persky close as a human shield and never took his eyes off his target. The man paused. “Get behind that car, Isa,” he murmured, loud enough for only her to hear. “I need you safe so I can take care of this.”
The car was parked right up against a wall so no one would be able to sneak up on her from behind, at least. Graysen angled his body, nudging Isa to move. He was aware of her doing so, but kept his attention solely on the blond-haired man with a weapon. No silencer on this one.