Elude (Eagle Elite #6)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Nixon pressed another button; another door opened. Right. Another door.

  Inside that room were semi-automatic guns, tear gas, bullet proof vests, C-4, scuba equipment, and a few terrifying looking contraptions that reminded me of every single historical romance I’d read that had talked about medieval torture.

  “I’d start with the tear gas.” He threw a few cans at me then pulled out a duffel bag. “…then the smoke.” He tossed something else into the bag. “Once the smoke clears and the fire alarms go off, the sprinkler system will be activated.” He sighed and grabbed two semi-automatics. “You’ll have five minutes, maybe six, before men start running to your location. You’ll either need to fight or create another diversion so you can search the house.”

  “Or…” I reached for one of the guns. “…I kill all but one, torture him, then find out where Sergio is.”

  “Too much time, Andi. You won’t make it.”

  “Watch me.”

  “Andi…” Nixon’s hand closed over the gun. “…this is a suicide mission. You get that, right? Chances of him coming out of there alive are next to zero. We don’t know how Petrov works. We’ve never been to his compound. Hell, we don’t even know if he’s there. This could all be for nothing.”

  I jerked the gun away. “I have to try. Besides, I’m Russian. We live for zero odds. Makes the victory that much sweeter.”

  Nixon smirked, dropping his head. “Shit, Trace is going to kill me.”

  “Why?”

  He grabbed a vest and put it over his head. “I’m his boss. I’m also his cousin. I go in with you, or you don’t go in at all.”

  “The hell you will!”

  He pushed me back, actually pushed me. “That’s right.” He nodded. “I have no issue with pushing you, punching you, shooting you. You’re my equal, and he’s my family. I go in, or we don’t go at all. Those are your options.”

  “I could just dropkick your ass.”

  “Sweetheart…” Nixon licked his lips, another smirk forming. “…I’d really like to see you try.”

  I backed away then turned around, trying to trip him with the back of my leg. I was out of practice and already severely wounded, so it wasn’t surprising at all that he’d seen it coming a mile away. He gripped me by the ankle and flipped my entire body onto the ground then hovered over me; a gun pressed to my chin. “Keep wasting my time. See what I do. See how far I’ll go.”

  I nodded; the tip of the gun was cold against my skin. “Fine, but we do it my way.”

  “Not surprised, you’re shit at taking directions anyway.” He got off the ground and held out his hand. “Oh, and don’t tell the others. They’ll just follow. We go out the back, we take—”

  “Dibs on the Chiappa shotgun. That bad boy hasn’t been used yet, and I plan to get dirty.” Chase burst into the room and reached for a vest.

  “What are you doing?” Nixon asked in a calm voice.

  “We had a family meeting while you were in here being all self-sacrificial.” Chase shrugged. “I know you, Nixon. You wouldn’t let her go on her own. Where you go I follow. It’s kind of the deal since we’re brothers from another father. Ha! Get it?”

  Nixon clenched his jaw. “Chase—”

  “Make sure they all have silencers. We don’t want nosey neighbors calling the cops on us.” Tex entered the room followed by Frank and Mil.

  Mil was already grabbing knives and strapping them to her leg.

  Mo followed and then Trace.

  “Wait.” I held up my hands. “What’s going on?”

  Phoenix entered last and offered an unapologetic smile. “It’s an Italian thing.”

  “Blood.” Frank moved to the middle of the small armory. “But we do this the old way, not the new way where you children run in guns blazing.”

  “Love it when he calls us children,” Chase sang in a bored voice.

  Frank smacked him on the back of the head. “Listen closely and listen well.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Sergio

  SOMETHING JAMMED INTO MY WRIST. I tried to pull away, but I was too weak, too hot, too tired. I lazily glanced down. An IV had been started. What the hell? Where was I?

  A hand slapped my cheek. I blinked hard, trying to focus.

  The man chuckled. “Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of tasting the water. This way you don’t die of dehydration, but you don’t get to feel the coolness against your lips.”

  I was going to murder him.

  I lunged, but I was so weak it felt like I had barely moved, barely blinked.

  “Ah-ah…” Petrov held up a finger. “Remember who the real enemy is.”

  The real enemy.

  Andi?

  No. Yes. My mind and my heart were at war with one another. I felt like I was missing something — but I had no idea what.

  “She betrayed you… and it’s been two days. Your family has yet to come for you. I bet they’re in on it too. In fact, they are. Aren’t they, Sergio?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “They would never.”

  “But they did, Sergio. None of them truly care about you. They hate you. They left you for dead. Andi despises you. Even if they do come for you, it will be pointless because they are the enemy, aren’t they?”

  I nodded. Why was I nodding?

  “Very good.” He clapped. “I think you’ve earned a respite from the fire.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and then a loud blast followed from a fire alarm.

  “Boss…” Someone else entered the room. “…they’re here.”

  “Well…” Petrov rubbed his hands together. “…I do hate to miss this, but in case things go badly, I’ll just be off the premises. Have fun, Sergio, and it really has been a pleasure. Be sure to say goodbye to my daughter before you shoot her in the heart.”

  I was angry — so angry — but I didn’t know who I was angry with, myself? Andi? Nixon? Tex?

  My eyes couldn’t focus. I rubbed them then realized my hands were no longer restrained.

  I glanced down. My feet were free. When had that happened?

  With a grimace, I ripped the IV from my arm and tried to stand. My legs were wobbly, but at least I was able to move a foot before needing to take a break. I was defenseless. Frantic, I held my head in my hands and looked down. Two guns were near my feet.

  Why would they leave guns?

  I’m going to kill them all.

  Had I said that?

  Had I meant it?

  Kill who? And why?

  Andi… she was why I was here. She’d done this to me, hadn’t she? I just wanted to lie down, to rest.

  Gunshots sounded, and then more followed. I heard screaming, and then an honest-to-God explosion erupted.

  I could feel the heat from the bomb as if it was right in front of me. What the hell was going on!

  I fell to my knees and covered my head as pieces of debris flew past the door and into the room.

  Everything fell silent except for the water that was now pouring from the sprinkler system in the house.

  The cold felt so good I didn’t even think. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth. My entire body shuddered as water coated me from head to toe.

  “Got him,” a faint voice called.

  I looked up. Andi was walking toward me. Without thinking, I reached for the gun at my feet and pointed it at her.

  She dropped her gun to the ground. “Sergio, it’s me… It’s fine… See? I put my gun down.”

  Nixon stepped into the room; his gun was drawn too. I was supposed to pull the trigger, right? She was the enemy.

  “You,” I said hoarsely, “betrayed me.”

  “No.” Tears filled her eyes.

  Why was she crying?

  “I didn’t. I swear, Sergio. I love you.”

  “No.” I shook the gun. “No.”

  “Andi.” Nixon reached slowly for her; blood trickled down his arm. Had he been shot? “He’s not in his right mind.”

  “S
top!” I yelled at both of them, pointing the gun at Nixon then back at her.

  Another figure stepped into the room. Phoenix. He eyed the gun then stepped around Nixon, shielding him with his body.

  “Oh, that’s rich,” I spat. “Protect him? He was in on it. You all were!”

  The words coming out of my mouth confused me; I believed them, but a part of my consciousness told me I was wrong — they were wrong.

  “Sergio…” Andi stepped closer. “…you’ve been brainwashed.”

  I slowly lowered the gun, but when she got closer, I panicked; rage flew out of me. I pointed it at her head and pressed my finger against the trigger. “You. Betrayed. Me.”

  “No.” Bruises covered the side of her face.

  Who did that? Who hurt her? Was I going to hurt her?

  “Screw this.” Nixon pushed Phoenix out of the way and pointed his gun in my direction; my reflexes were too slow. Two gunshots.

  One went directly into my shoulder; the gun dropped out of my hand.

  The next shot hit me in the thigh.

  I crumpled to the ground and closed my eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Andi

  ”NIXON!” I YELLED HIS NAME, BUT he still shot Sergio. I was terrified he would kill him, but he didn’t. Both were good shots, but the bleeding…

  It wasn’t stopping.

  “He’s severely dehydrated,” Phoenix said at my side, dropping to his knees. “We need to get him to the hospital now.”

  “No hospitals!” Nixon roared.

  “Then your cousin’s going to die!” Phoenix yelled back. “Look!” The bandage on Sergio’s other shoulder was turning a weird yellow-orange-green color. Phoenix pulled it back. It looked septic. No doubt about it. I could only imagine what they’d done to him.

  Our infiltration had been quick — thanks to Frank. He didn’t want anyone injured, so he took a chance, a big chance that Sergio would either be on a second-level floor or in a basement.

  We bombed the entry to the house.

  Then used tear gas to fight our way in. There were around thirty men altogether, but most of them weren’t prepared for the gas; we had masks on, so picking them off was easy.

  Finding Sergio was hard.

  Until I saw Petrov rush out of one of the upstairs rooms just as I was clearing the hall.

  Coward was probably halfway to Seattle by now.

  “Help me get him up.” Nixon gripped Sergio by the shoulders.

  My husband let out a pitiful moan.

  Tears rushed down my face as Tex hurried into the room.

  It didn’t take us long to clear the house and put Sergio in one of the waiting cars down the street. I held his head in my lap and cried.

  He didn’t look so perfect anymore.

  His lips were cracked and dry, his face had bruises covering it, and he was bleeding — everywhere.

  “Call ahead.” Nixon tossed the phone at Mil. “Make sure Stephen’s working the shift today. If not, get him in the hospital now!”

  “Stephen?” I repeated.

  “Surgeon. Doctor. De Lange.” That was the only explanation Chase gave as we drove the rest of the way to the hospital.

  A man was waiting outside with a gurney and a team.

  When the door opened, he cursed then started firing off orders to everyone around him.

  Sergio was basically tossed onto the gurney. With a moan, he fluttered open his eyes. “I’m a matsh!” he slurred. “Tell Andi. Tell her if I’m a matsh, they have to do the surgery before I die.”

  I froze. “Is he delirious?”

  They were still strapping him in when Tex came to my side. “He had us tested. All of us, the entire family. Would have tested dogs and goldfish if that’s what it took.”

  “What?” I gripped Sergio’s bloody hand. “What do you mean?”

  Tex turned his blue eyes on me. “To see if you were a match. He wanted to donate his bone marrow, but to do that type of surgery now, or hell, even a week from now?”

  I nodded in understanding.

  Sergio was willing to give his life for mine.

  But it wasn’t his call to make, not when my time was so short, not when I knew he had so much more to give.

  “No.” I gripped his hand tighter as Nixon and Phoenix stood over the gurney telling Stephen what happened.

  “Drive-by shooting.” Nixon ran his hands through his hair. “He was hit in the shoulder a few days ago at the shooting range then was out going for a walk to clear his head and was shot twice.”

  Stephen nodded, while the rest of the nurses didn’t blink an eye.

  Gunshot wounds were always investigated in hospitals. I’d always been the type of person that frowned at law enforcement or government officials being in the pocket of organized crime.

  But now? With Sergio’s life at stake?

  I prayed to God that Nixon had sent the police chief a Christmas goose.

  “Hold him!” Stephen pushed Sergio down on the gurney as Sergio’s body started convulsing; blood soaked the inside of his leg. “Damn it!”

  The doctor didn’t need to tell me what I was seeing. An artery had been hit, and the seizure was making it worse. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch, didn’t trust myself not to fall to my knees and cry.

  “It was supposed to be me,” I whispered. “Not him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Sergio

  THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS BURNED MY EYES. I blinked them rapidly — thinking it would make the stinging go away, but it only made everything worse. The pain was indescribable, like someone had broken my body in half, repaired it, then repeated the process.

  “He’s not going to make it.”

  I recognized the voice. It was Nixon’s. Why the hell was Nixon there? Wasn’t he dead? No wait. That was me. I’d taken that bullet.

  Memories of the past few days flashed across my line of vision, causing a searing headache to build at my temples.

  The fight.

  The gunshots.

  The agreement.

  My wife.

  Tears burned the back of my eyes.

  Wife…

  “I’ll do it. I’m a match.” I gripped her hand firmly in mine.

  “You’ll die,” Tex whispered. “Your body… it’s too weak from everything else.”

  “We’re running out of time!” I screamed, my voice hoarse, eyes wide frantic. “Do it now!”

  “No.” She wrapped her frail arms around my neck. “No.”

  “Yes.” I pushed her away. “If I don’t — you could die. The doctor says it needs to be now, so operate.”

  Her eyes were sad.

  Both Tex and Phoenix looked down at the blue and white tile floor, faces pale. I knew what they were thinking. I’d already lost too much blood, my kidneys were barely working, and I wanted to give her part of my life.

  I knew going in I would most likely die.

  But I’d do everything within my power to save her.

  It’s odd, when you face death every day, when you elude it, when you finally come to terms with the fact that you won’t be on earth forever — that’s when you think you’re at peace.

  I’d thought I was okay with dying.

  Until I met her.

  And then I was faced with someone else’s death every damn day. It’s harder. People don’t tell you that. It’s one thing to come to terms with your own mortality; it’s quite another to stare down death of the one you love, knowing there is nothing in this world that will stop it.

  My vision blurred again.

  “He’s flat lining,” a voice said in the distance.

  I tried to keep my eyes open. I saw white blond hair, big brown eyes, and that tender smile. I reached for it and held onto it, held onto the memory of her. The girl who’d changed my world from darkness to light.

  The girl I never wanted.

  But desperately needed.

  “Tell her I’ll love her…” I didn’t recognize my own gravelly voice.
“…forever.”

  With a gasp, I felt my heart stutter to a stop.

  Blackness overtook me just as a searing pain hit me square in the chest.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Andi

  HE’D FLAT-LINED TWICE.

  Both times, I felt my own heart stop as I waited for his to start pumping again. Those seconds, those moments, were the worst I’d ever experienced in my life. Nothing would make me feel better — nothing but hearing his voice again.

  “Andi…” Nixon nudged me with his arm. “…you should get some sleep. I’ll watch over him.”

  I shook my head and stayed glued to his bedside. He’d been in surgery for eight hours. His body had gone into such shock from dehydration that he’d seized; the bullet that Nixon had put in his leg was just close enough to his main artery that when he seized, it had caused a small tear.

  He’d nearly bled out.

  He would have had we brought him back to the house instead of the hospital. I gripped his rough hand harder, willing him to open his eyes.

  Nixon sighed and pulled out a chair. “Fine. Stay, but I’m staying too.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t care either way.

  A knock sounded at the door. Tex pushed it open halfway, peeking his head around the side before he entered. “So I have some news.”

  I covered a yawn with my hand and laid my head against Sergio’s chest. “Good news or bad news?”

  “Bad.” Tex’s eyes fell. “He’s not a match.”

  Sergio groaned.

  “Sergio?” I cupped his face. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes.”

  “Water.” His voice sounded rough, like he’d swallowed sandpaper. “I need water.”

  I quickly lifted the cup to his lips. He drank greedily then blinked his eyes harder as if trying to focus on me. “Why aren’t you in surgery?”

  “Uh…” I set the water down. “…because I wasn’t the one shot?”

  “No.” His eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I’m a match, right? Why aren’t you in surgery getting my blood? Why am I alive?”

  Tex cursed softly behind me. I held onto Sergio’s hand tighter. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Sergio, but… you’re not a match.”