Mandy cleared her throat. “You were right. We never made it to one hundred million. We’re twenty million short.”
The group was silent, staring at her with concerned eyes. Clark and Loretta shared a worried look, his arm settling around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. Mandy had a moment of wistfulness at the sight of his tender expression as his gaze settled on his wife. Mandy had to preserve this. Fix it.
“Duncan will save us,” she assured them. “But I understand that you don’t have the same faith in him that I do. So, we’ll make a backup plan. I’ll talk to Mr. Falcon, get him to take me around from room to room. I’ll try to up people’s donations. Unless anyone has any better plans?”
They all shook their heads.
Mandy hesitated, then knocked hard against the door, the sound reverberating through the corridor beyond. “Hey! I need to talk to Mr. Falcon. It’s about his money,” she yelled through the door. No sound permeated the heavy door.
“You won’t get anything if you don’t let me out!” she yelled again. This time footsteps sounded outside the door.
The lock clicked open. The door swung inward, pushing Mandy backwards. Mr. Falcon’s cold gaze looked her over, leaving Mandy feeling like a worthless dust mite.
“What?” he asked sullenly.
“We haven’t made your one hundred million threshold yet. I need to go around to each group and ask for more input.”
She stuck her chin in the air, projecting all the confidence she could. This was not a moment for deference. She needed to give this man the impression that she could get him his money, that he could place his faith in her.
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you. But be quick. The clock is ticking.”
Mandy channelled her triumph into a small smile. “Excellent.”
He stepped back from the doorway just enough for her to squeeze through, but she had to brush against him to do so. She glared at his back as he shut and locked the door. Such a childish power play.
His remaining lackeys stood a few feet from her, with Frankie hefting his gun as he stared her down. Well. That wasn’t intimidating.
She took a few steps towards the next door, but a strong grip encircled her arm, holding her back. “Don’t get too far away,” he murmured, his breath against her ear. She shivered in disgust.
He dragged her down the corridor and practically threw her towards the door. She stumbled in her heels, rolling her ankle. She narrowed her eyes but chose not to complain. It was clear that he fully intended to keep trying to intimidate her.
Mr. Falcon unlocked the door and it creaked open, revealing scared eyes blinking out from the darkness of the room. He gestured her ahead of him, then made to follow. Mandy stopped, blocking his path.
“Don’t you have a corridor to guard?” she asked him haughtily. She kept her back to him, being as dismissive as she dared. He narrowed his eyes. Hesitated. Then grunted and shut the door between them, leaving her alone with the new group. She recognised Paula, and the angry woman. All were staring at her like she was a lifeline and they were on a sinking ship.
She gave them a reassuring smile, one she didn’t entirely feel. What if Duncan couldn’t save them in time? But she had to believe. Determined to give these people hope, she lowered her voice and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Let me tell you about my friend Duncan. Because when he comes for us, I need you to be ready.”
Chapter 7
Duncan peered around the corner at the end of the corridor, watching that asshole pull Mandy around from door to door. The lackey that was meant to be guarding Duncan’s end of the corridor stood too far down to effectively guard the entrance. He leaned against the wall, his gun drooping from his hand as he watched his boss drag Mandy around.
At first Duncan had thought that the leader had planned to do something nefarious to Mandy when he’d pushed her into one of the rooms, and red rage had hazed his vision.
However, it soon became obvious that whatever Mandy was doing, it was her choice. In fact, Duncan would put money on the fact of her leading this dick around by the…well, dick.
He ducked back around, out of sight. Now, he just needed to figure out how to get Mandy away from the asshole so he could get her to safety. It was the perfect opportunity now that she was alone—mostly. Problem was that if he fired at her captor he risked hitting her. If he waited until she was in one of the rooms, it would be more dangerous, because all the bad guys would be looking in his direction, and the angle was bad if he used the wall for cover. He’d have to take the guy nearest to him out first, leaving Mandy too vulnerable because the leader would be within reach of her.
And he couldn’t just charge down the corridor, because it was too far to run in a narrow space, and the guard nearest to him would intercept him easily enough, despite the man’s obvious incompetence. Duncan would be a sitting duck.
His best bet would be if he could get Mandy to drop at the right moment, thereby getting herself out of harm’s way and distracting the three gunmen, but he wasn’t convinced he could catch her eye without making him vulnerable to the asshole’s gunfire.
Annoyed with his own indecision, Duncan figured that he could at least take the lackey down the other end of the corridor out. He had a bad habit of watching his boss’s back when Mandy was in the rooms, leaving his own unprotected. And he stood close enough to the entrance to the corridor that Duncan wouldn’t leave himself exposed if he came up from behind.
Since Mandy only had a few doors left, Duncan padded toward the corridor that paralleled the one where the action was happening. He circled around to the other side of the building with as much hustle as he could manage. His leg hurt like a motherfucker and he wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d stay upright. But if it did collapse, he would drag himself naked over broken glass before letting that bastard keep his hold on Mandy.
Duncan reached the other side of the corridor. As he predicted, the lackey stood with his back to him, watching his boss further down the corridor. Duncan hefted his knife, testing the balance. He waited, hidden in the shadows of an oversized pot plant. The moment the leader turned to lead Mandy to the next door, Duncan took half a second to aim and sent the knife flying.
It landed with a thud in the lackey’s neck. The man let out a soft gurgle, and Duncan rushed forward to catch him before he fell.
He dragged the man’s body around the corner, the dripping blood leaving a trail on the soft red carpet. He deposited the man out of sight of the corridor and peeked around the edge. The leader hadn’t noticed his lackey’s absence as he shoved Mandy back towards the room she’d originally come from. The man on the other end of the corridor straightened, obviously having noticed that something was wrong.
Now was his only chance.
Duncan raised one of the machine guns in both hands and stepped into view. Three sets of eyes turned in his direction, all wide with surprise. But he kept his gaze on Mandy, willing her to read his mind.
The whole world had slowed down, pinpointing on that one moment. From the corner of his eye, Duncan saw the leader raise his gun towards him, loosening his grip on Mandy’s arm. Duncan didn’t dare look away from Mandy, begging her with his eyes to fall to the floor.
She blinked and a determination flooded her face. She’d understood. Good. Duncan waited until she dropped before squeezing the trigger, just as the leader did the same.
Duncan’s gun shuddered, and it took him a second to realise that the gun had jammed. The spray of bullets he’d been expecting never came forth. Probably a head space and timing issue because the last user had calibrated it poorly.
But he didn’t have time to think or curse. Instead, he ducked back around the corner just as the bullets went flying from the leader’s gun. One nicked Duncan’s side and he flinched as he pressed his back up against the wall. He held up the second gun and let out a few test fires around the corner without looking. The resounding blasts of bullets exploding from the chamber sounded through the corridors. A
t least that gun worked.
His heart thundered as loud as the bullets, the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his brain sit up and take notice. His last major firefight—not including the hasty one that got Blake shot—had torn up his leg and sent him out of the army.
The leader still lay down cover fire, stopping Duncan from using his weapon. A second gun joined his, the noise overwhelming in the enclosed space. Duncan hunched away from the chips flying off the corner.
He needed to get to Mandy. She was in harm’s way, with the bullets flying in the small space.
Just as he made plans to lay down some cover fire of his own, Mandy crawled into view. From her angle, she’d been using the sideboard near the corner to stay out of sight, but now took the chance to make a break for it. She beelined towards him, keeping low to avoid the hail of gunfire. Duncan again fired around the corner, this time to distract the two gunmen from Mandy’s actions, making them duck for cover.
His heart was in his throat as she traversed the deadly path. Every inch was agony. He wanted to reach for her, pull her to safety, but knew it was safer if he laid down the cover fire.
Finally, finally, she reached him. He dragged her roughly to her feet.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He hauled her down the corridor, around a corner, and towards the farthest staircase. Mandy stumbled along behind him. His fingers gripped her upper arm, hustling her as fast as he could move.
“Can you slow down? Heels are not for running,” she gritted out as she tripped once again.
Duncan slowed just a little, enough to take most of the pressure off his leg and let Mandy catch up. A few more steps and they were at the staircase. The leader and his lackey had obviously let them go, since they hadn’t followed them. It made sense, since a leader so well-prepared would have a solid getaway plan, and their real jackpot lay behind the doors in that corridor. By the time Duncan and Mandy got away—phoneless—and managed to contact the authorities, the man and what was left of his crew would be long gone.
“Is your leg all right?” she asked. He turned back to see her eyeing his bad leg with a worried frown.
His jaw clenched. “Fine,” he muttered. He wasn’t a charity case. He never had been able to bear her seeing him that way.
Duncan turned away from her and started down the staircase. It took him half a second to realise Mandy wasn’t following him.
He glanced at her, eyebrows raised in question.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To safety.”
Mandy blinked. “And what about everyone else? What’s the plan for them?”
Duncan shifted. “I’ll get you out of here first. Then I’ll assess if there is anything I can do for them.”
He tugged on Mandy’s arm, but she stood firm. He couldn’t pull her harder or he risked toppling them both down the stairs. He gave her a disapproving look, but she didn’t back down.
“We aren’t leaving without them,” she declared.
Duncan sighed. “We should get out, get you to safety, and let the professionals deal with the rest. It’s the smart thing to do.”
“Might I remind you that we are professionals? There’s a ticking clock on those people.” She checked her watch. “They have less than twenty minutes to live. Do you really think that the police will be able to save them all in that time? No. But we’re here now, and we can do it.”
Duncan glared at her. “Why are you so determined to save these people?”
“Because they’re innocent. All they want is to get home to their families for Christmas. And because I promised them we would. Why are you so determined not to? It’s unlike you.”
Duncan moved up a few steps until he towered over Mandy, pressed close and puffing his chest out to be his most intimidating. She didn’t even blink. But Duncan couldn’t pretend to be so unaffected by her breasts pressing against his chest, and the soft breaths of air she expelled brushing over the skin of his neck. He shook himself, focusing the full force of his willpower on her.
“You’re my priority. I need to get you safe. You need to stay alive. Beyond that, anyone else I might save is a bonus. But you are non-negotiable.” Why that was true, he couldn’t say. But the relentless need to protect her was a constant ache in his chest.
His words shut her up. But only for a moment. Her eyes, which had briefly melted at his words, now fired with determination.
“Well, to save me, you have to save them. And the more you argue with me, the less time we’ll have to do it. So, move it, Soldier.”
A muscle ticked in Duncan’s jaw. He wanted to argue, but experience told him it would be fruitless. He may as well give in.
“Fine,” he muttered. She grinned in triumph and he glared in return. “But if you die, I’ll kill you myself.”
Chapter 8
Mandy left behind her expensive Jimmy Choo heels and crept after Duncan back through the corridors. She’d managed to hold onto them this long, but knew that if she had to run, the heels would only get in the way. Besides, her knees were quaking with nerves, and she needed all the stability she could get.
She was going back into the lion’s den. Plaster from the exploding walls that had rained down on her during their last encounter with Mr. Falcon still covered her. She brushed off as much of it as she could as she followed Duncan’s broad back, but it still coated her throat and tangled in her once-neat hair. Her ears rang from the sound of endless bullets being fired.
Still, she’d survived. And now she had Duncan.
She wondered at Duncan’s odd behaviour from before. He’d been so determined to get her to safety. Why? Most of the time he couldn’t stand being in the same room as her. Surely it would be in his favour if she’d died, since he’d then get what he’d always wanted—sole ownership of Soldiering On.
He stopped. Mandy collided with the solid muscle of his back, having been too wrapped up in her thoughts to pay attention. She stayed there for just a moment, soaking in his heat and strength. Breathing deep, she realised that he smelled good, like sweat and gunpowder and something else that was distinctly him. Duncan settled a hand on her hip to steady her, and his touch burned through the thin fabric of her dress.
He turned his head, just enough for her to see him putting his finger against his lips to silence her. Mandy nodded to show she understood and reluctantly stepped out of his embrace.
He crept forward. Mandy stayed where she was, tense with readiness for what might happen next. Duncan had said they would just recon the situation, but the bad men with guns that wanted to shoot them were around the next bend. Anything might happen.
They were at the opposite end of the corridor to the one they’d last been at, so there was no trace of the earlier gunfire. But Mandy’s breaths still came in shallow pants.
Duncan peeked around the corner, hesitating barely a second as he looked around before pulling his head back.
And in just enough time. The wall where his face had been exploded a moment later, showering them with plaster.
Duncan leapt into action, shoving her down the corridor in front of him, directing her around the next bend. They wound their way through the corridors for a few moments until Duncan paused in a spot of relative safety.
He slumped back against the wall, breathing hard. “Are you sure I can’t get you to safety?”
Mandy shook her head. “We have to save them.”
Duncan sighed. “This is such a ridiculous plan. I don’t know how this asshole thought it would ever work.”
“Maybe Mr. Falcon and his silent partner have ulterior motives,” Mandy mused.
A frown pulled down Duncan’s brows. “Silent partner? Mr. Falcon?”
Mandy nodded. “He told me to call him that. And yes. There’s someone running this behind the scenes.”
Duncan’s expression turned speculative. “And how do you know that?”
She shrugged. “I listened to a phone call he made.”
�
�Interesting.” He narrowed his gaze speculatively in her direction.
Mandy remembered something. “Oh, and when we rescue the hostages, we should be wary. One of them is most likely working for the enemy.”
Duncan’s brows shot up. “And how do you know that?”
Mandy smiled a little smugly. “They had the guest list a few days before the event, so someone on the inside must have been helping them.”
“Huh. Any idea who?”
Mandy shook her head. She would have said Charles, since he’d organised the event, but given what she suspected he’d planned for tonight, there was no way he’d ruin his own party—and therefore himself.
“Still,” Duncan murmured. “Good job. I must be rubbing off on you.” Mischief sparked in his eyes, and she knew that he didn’t mean the words. Mandy rolled her eyes, anyway, playing along. She knew he only did these things to rile her. She almost smiled at his predictability, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“So, what’s the plan then, Hotshot?” she asked. “Since they’re clearly still guarding both exits.”
Duncan pondered this for a long moment. “If we can’t come in from either side without risking our safety, then we’ll have to go from above or below.”
“You’re not thinking the windows are you? Because there aren’t any footholds out there. I checked.”
“Shit.” Duncan was eloquent as always.
“We need to think of something. They are running out of time if Mr. Falcon and his men stick to their midnight deadline.” Adrenaline coursed through her, urging her to do something.
Duncan huffed. “Okay, if we can’t go through them, we’ll have to lure them out.”
“How?”
“Not sure yet.” He emptied out his pockets onto a nearby sideboard. A random assortment of items spilled across the expensive wood.
Mandy’s eyes zeroed in on Duncan’s hands as he sorted through the bits and pieces. She sucked in a breath.
“What happened to your hand?” she asked, grabbing his left one with both of hers. She ran her thumb over the bloody cummerbund he’d wrapped around his palm.
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