The Hitman's Pregnant Bride: A Baby Romance
Page 11
"I'm sorry that I came."
Andreas nodded. "I'm going to put you in the truck, okay? Once you are there, don't move." His eyes were a dark grey and very serious.
"I won't."
He squeezed her shoulder and closed the trunk. Phoebe went out the side door of the SUV. Andreas helped her into the flatbed of the truck.
She was determined to stay out of sight while the mission to extract her father went on. She felt the truck roar to life and resigned herself to even more bumping, and not the fun kind.
43
Planning
Andreas
"Where'd you put her?"
"I put her in the truck. Nix stayed back to keep an eye on the cars and my wife. He's not built for this, anyway."
"Nah. He hasn't killed anyone."
Andreas tried to put his worry about his wife in the back of his mind. She should've been safe at Chung's. Now she was right next to the most dangerous person that she'd meet, one who had already kidnapped her once. He hoped that she'd stay put. She really shouldn't have snuck out. He couldn't imagine what his wife was thinking when she snuck into his car. It was ridiculous dangerous. She left a place of perfect safety to ride along in his car when he was wearing body armor. She didn't even seem to know why she was there.
Andreas took deep breaths as he ran through the hand signals that they'd use and their game plan for the extraction. Andreas knew that the men were prepared just as well as they could be. He undid the safety of his gun. He came near the warehouse that the Feds had raided before. Odhran was around here somewhere.
Andreas hoped that Harold Kaine was conscious when they found him. He could only hope that the part of the interrogation where they began slicing hadn't happened yet.
He winced. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain any of this to Mrs. Kaine, who definitely had noticed at this point that her husband wasn't home.
"Showtime," Ricky said.
He needed to focus.
Damn it.
"Odhran," he shouted. "You didn't invite us to the party." He nodded at Bill, who began banging the butt of his gun on a big piece of metal that rang like a gong, making an incredible sound that spread throughout the whole dockyard. Bill immediately disappeared just like a ghost.
"What are you doing here, Andreas?"
Andreas spun around to look at Odhran, who was flanked by two men who looked like bodyguards. He was wearing a gold suit. He was unreasonably flashy in it. For heaven's sake, they were in a dockyard. Who even wore suits here?
"Let's get on with it."
"Get on with what?" Odhran said, his tone light and innocent. He stepped into the dim lights of the warehouse. It was hard to tell where Odhran had come from, but that's why Andreas had brought a crew.
"It's a private party," Odhran said, his tone icy. "But you're a big boy, aren't you? You know that already."
Andreas ground his teeth. Odhran acted as Andreas hadn't killed more men than he could count on his fingers and toes.
He saw one of his crew members pointing to one of the containers. They knew which container Harold Kaine was in.
Odhran saw Andreas looking at the container. He raised his hand.
Immediately, Andreas felt a huge amount of force hit the center of his chest. He fell backwards. That bastard had his goons shoot him. He felt like he'd been kicked by a horse wearing an iron horseshoe.
He fell on his back and stared at the sky. To add insult to injury, he felt another shot go into his thigh. They must've realized that he hadn't bled when they shot him in the center of his mass. Andreas winced as he got to his feet and limped into the darkness, doing his best to weave through the narrow alleys of the containers. He needed to get closer to the one that Hawk had shown him had Harold Kaine.
Orange container. He needed to get closer to the orange container. He had to holster his gun because he had to try to staunch his blood-flow while he was on his feet and still walking around. If he had time, he'd tie a tourniquet there, but he didn't have that luxury.
He kept walking until he saw a glimpse of orange.
A bullet hit the container two inches from his face. He spun and shot in the direction the bullet had come from. The sound of a thud told him that he'd hit whatever thug was gunning for him.
"Andreas, right?" Odhran called out.
Andreas could hear the click of Odhran's fancy shoes. He really wasn't dressed properly for the docks. Andreas didn't answer Odhran's call.
He finally got to the orange container. He shot the lock off of it because he didn't have time to pick it. Inside, there was a guard who wasn't very alert. He pistol-whipped the man and shot him in his shooting arm before hitting him again to knock him out. He had an extra gun in his ankle holster. He put it in Harold's hands. His face was covered in blood and his eyes were swollen shut.
"Sorry it took so long, Harold. I had a little trouble finding you."
Harold didn't say a thing.
Andreas realized that Harold wasn't conscious; he was being held up by the duct tape that kept him attached to the chair.
He shook Harold's shoulder. "We're breaking you out, okay? Stay with me. Hold this gun. I'm going to unlock your handcuffs."
He rummaged around in the unconscious guard's pocket until he found a key for the handcuffs. He undid the cuffs on Harold's eyes. Harold's pupils were different sizes. Definitely concussed.
Fuck. This was not ideal.
"Stay with me, Harold." He put a hand on Harold's arm to pull him out of the container.
Stepping out of the container, he immediately saw Phoebe held by one of the thugs dressed in black.
Fuck.
44
Triggers
Andreas
"Let her go."
Odhran grinned at him.
"How about you make it worth my while, huh?"
"I know what you want. Let her go. I'll tell you what I know. If you hurt her..."
"We'll torture you until you tell us what we want to know anyway."
"I'll die before telling you a word about it. Harold might be trained in advanced interrogation techniques, but I was raised in foster homes."
Odhran raised a single brow. He motioned towards the container with his head. One of his thugs went inside to check the container. He emerged a minute later with a nod and stood outside of the door.
Odhran stroked his chin.
"Let her go."
The thug holding Phoebe let her go. She ran straight for Andreas. He couldn't hold her, not now, but he felt a lot better with her by his side. They weren't out of the woods yet.
"You're bleeding. You have blood all over your pants."
"Baby, don't think about it. Can you go for a walk? Wait near where we parked the first time."
She raised her eyebrows.
"Please have faith. Everything will be fine. This is about business." He knew that Odhran was watching their exchange.
"Okay."
They watched as Phoebe walked away.
45
Crew
Phoebe
Phoebe headed towards where they had initially parked when she was pulled behind a storage container with a hand over her mouth. She tried to wiggle away, but she couldn't.
"It's Bill. You should've stayed in the truck." Phoebe relaxed immediately. "Please get into this container. This is where the guys are staying right now. You should've let us get your father to safety." He finally let go of her mouth.
"I heard a shot and panicked; I felt like I should run."
"You need to trust us, okay? We know what we're doing."
She bristled because he implied that she didn't know what she was doing. Drawing in a deep breath and trying to center herself, she went into the container with all the guys. Her heart thumped when she heard the door close, cutting her off from her husband.
46
All I Know
Andreas
"Where is the Crucible?" Straight to business.
"The FBI destroyed it."
Yeah, it was a lie, but they weren't going to get their hands on the thing. Odhran would need to accept it eventually.
"Bullshit." Andreas blinked at Odhran, who looked like he never cursed. He looked extremely proper, despite the overly shiny quality of his suit.
"It's gone."
"I know for a fact that it's not gone." Odhran pulled out a small .22-caliber gun. He took off the safety.
"Don't toy with me, boy. I want to know where it is."
Andreas grinned and said, "I only promised to tell you what I knew. That's what I knew. Scout's honor." Andreas held up his other hand, the gun-free one, in a mockery of the Boy Scout's motion.
Unimpressed with Andreas, Odhran squeezed the trigger of his gun.
A shot rang out from behind Andreas. Odhran fell before he completed pulling the trigger. His thugs pulled out their weapons and exchanged fire with the rest of Andreas' crew. Andreas crawled low to the ground to get out of the crossfire. He saw that Harold was near him. Harold was not in any shape to get into a gun fight.
"Sorry, Andreas." Harold headed towards the container.
"What the hell? Where are you going?"
Harold took the safety off of his gun. "Got something to do." He shot his guard in the head.
Andreas swallowed hard. It was cold to kill an unconscious man, but he probably deserved if Harold Kaine was delivering death. He'd chosen the wrong man to follow. They stayed on the floor of the container until they couldn't hear anymore shots.
They slowly walked up when all the thugs were down. Some of the crew stayed behind for cleanup -- that's what the truck was for. The other guys got into Andreas' SUV. Harold took over the operation as he got into the car.
"We're going into an FBI medical center."
"Is that a good idea? You realize what we are, right?"
"Doesn't matter. I'll call you my CIs and tell them that you helped me catch Odhran. Close enough to the truth for my report about this whole ordeal."
"They know that you disappeared."
"Yeah."
Phoebe was sitting in the passenger seat. Andreas knew that it wasn't all that safe to hold her hand while he was driving, but he didn't give a damn.
"Where are we going?"
Harold Kaine gave them turn by turn instructions until they were in front of a nondescript business building in Herndon.
47
Medical Center
Andreas
"Herndon? Really?"
"Don't knock it."
Harold got out of the car. Andreas could see from the way that he was walking that nothing was broken, but he'd definitely been worked over.
“Just get inside before anybody can notice us.”
Andreas and the rest of the crew got inside of the building.
As soon as the doors opened, Andreas understood why Harold had taken them there. It smelled like a hospital.
“Harold Kaine,” Harold told the receptionist. “I need clean up.”
“Right away, sir.” The receptionist tapped his name into her computer and checked the photo that came up her screen. “I’ll have a team come downstairs.”
Andreas was suddenly conscious of the enormous amount of blood soaking his slacks. He immediately walked over to a chair and nonchalantly sat down. The adrenaline had masked the fact that it hurt to walk.
“Andreas? Are you okay?”
“I got shot in the leg, babe.”
“I know. And there’s a hole in the front of your shirt.”
Andreas looked down. There was a hole from when they shot him the first time.
“It’s okay. I’m wearing Kevlar.” Or something slightly better.
There was a nurse with grey hair who came down to look at the whole crew. Most of them were unscathed, but Harold was in pretty bad shape, and Andreas knew that he had lost a lot of blood.
“Harold is going first, then you, then you.” She pointed at Andreas and Phoebe.
“Me? I wasn’t shot.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“How can you tell?”
“The way that your hand is on your stomach. No arguing.” She pulled Harold towards an examination room. Andreas could see him wincing. He might have bruises on his arms.
Andreas waited until he was checked out. They helped stop the flow of blood and quickly extracted the bullet before disinfecting the wound.
“You’re going to need a wheelchair for a few days.”
“Fuck that.”
“Language!” Phoebe said. “What about the baby?”
“I don’t think that the baby can hear me in utero, babe.”
“Still.”
“You’re pregnant.” The second nurse, the one who checked Andreas, looked at Phoebe. “Would you like a little ultrasound?”
“Please.”
She went out the door and came back pulling a cart.
“The gel is a little cold, but I think that you can handle it.”
She motioned for Phoebe to get on the bed. She climbed up next to Andreas. Andreas got off and limped to a chair.
“Shirt up, please.”
The nurse smeared gel all over Phoebe’s stomach before putting the ultrasound device on her. There was a monitor on the cart.
“Andreas! Do you see our baby?”
“Yes, I do.” He had to clear his throat, which felt choked up.
Phoebe was crying happy tears. He limped to the bed to hug her.
“I’ll just wipe off the gel and then leave you two alone. A doctor will be in shortly.” The nurse grabbed paper towels from a dispenser, wiped down Phoebe’s stomach, and left the room.
“We’re going to be okay, babe. I know that I let you down, but…”
“You kept your word.”
Andreas locked his eyes with her.
“You kept your word. My father is just fine. All of this would’ve turned out very differently if you weren’t….you. Exactly you. I’ll just have to relearn who you are. Your training saved us all.”
Andreas could tell that she was still turning all of it over in her mind.
“You’re my miracle, Phoebe. I love you with everything inside of me — everything that I have.”
Smiling, she said, “I know. Me, too.”
Andreas knew that they would be just fine.
“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Andreas. I grew up in the Nelson Hill Houses. I was made more than I was born…”
Epilogue
“Pass the peas, please.” Harold grinned at Andreas as he asked it. He had become a lot warmer after Andreas saved his life, but he still loved to give him a hard time.
Andreas handed him the peas, which were mixed with gooey cheese. They were the best peas that Andreas had ever had in his life.
“So, is there anything else that you’d like to get off your chest before you’re properly initiated? Family? Friends?”
“Initiated?”
“Answer the question.”
“Uh…no. I can’t think of anything.”
“Splendid. You’ll do the dishes tonight.”
“Dishes?”
“You heard me, son, unless all those gun shots impacted your eardrums. Take you initiation like a man.”
Harold winked at him before shoving the serving spoon under the peas and getting a big helping.
Copyright © 2016 Alyse Zaftig
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Cover designs by Silverheart and Lux Development
Developmental editing by Lux Development
Editing by Heatwave Books
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This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Names, characters, places, and incident either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblan
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