Beautiful Vengeance

by Kaylea Cross

  “Kiyomi!”

  She whipped her head around to see Trinity running toward her from the right.

  “This way! Come on!” Trin waved her over.

  The thump of the approaching helo was growing louder now. Kiyomi angled toward Trinity and kept running while more gunfire broke out behind them. The urge to stop and go back to protect Marcus was overwhelming.

  “Marcus is hurt,” she panted when she got close enough that she didn’t have to shout.

  “Shot?”

  “Don’t think so.” Had to be his hip or leg. She crouched behind a tree several feet from where Trinity was hiding behind another, and looked up. “How many shooters are left?”

  “At least six.”

  “That helo’s getting close.” How many more shooters were coming?

  She glanced behind her at the wall, now less than twenty yards away. It was an easy jump to grab the top of it, but swinging over it would leave them exposed. “I’m not going over it without the guys.”

  Trinity nodded, her gaze trained on the terrain ahead. “Brody’s coming in from our nine o’clock.”

  Kiyomi shifted her body to look in that direction, but whipped back around when something rustled off to her left. “I hear something,” she whispered, taking aim. Trinity did the same. They both stared through the trees, searching for movement.

  A shot rang out from somewhere in front of them. Trinity grunted and cursed.

  Horror ripped through her when she whipped around to see her friend lying on her back, face contorted in pain as she grabbed at her chest, her legs writhing in the dead leaves.

  Without thinking Kiyomi lowered her weapon and raced for Trinity.

  A flurry of gunfire erupted through the woods, twice the volume than anything they’d had before.

  “Trin!” Kiyomi skidded to her knees beside Trinity, reached out to pry her hands away from her chest. Had the vest not stopped the—

  Something hit her in the back of her thigh. Pain shot up her leg and through her entire body, stealing her breath. She was already convulsing as she hit the forest floor. Her vision went black, her body arching and twitching.

  She lay there, unable to move, unable to cry out a warning to the others, the pain stealing the air from her lungs. Somehow she forced her eyes open, her blurry gaze landing on someone stepping out from behind a tree thirty feet away. A middle-aged woman approached her, weapon pointed directly at Kiyomi.

  The woman’s eerie smile made Kiyomi’s heart kick hard against her ribs as the woman knelt beside her. Kiyomi struggled to suck in air, fought to reach for her sidearm.

  The woman’s hand flashed out. Something sharp pricked Kiyomi’s neck. The pain receded, a strange floating sensation taking over.

  Disbelief slammed into her as her eyelids began to fall. The woman looked like an older version of Amber.

  The Architect had gotten her after all.

  ****

  “Got her.”

  Forcing back the rush of elation flooding her, Janelle tossed the empty syringe aside, seized the straps of Kiyomi’s tactical vest and began to drag her backward across the leaf-strewn ground.

  Ten yards away, Trinity lay where she’d fallen. No longer a threat, and unimportant.

  “Roger,” a female voice answered in her earpiece. “You’re clear. Helo’s moving to LZ now.”

  “Copy.”

  After a tense start to the operation where they’d lost sight of their targets for a precious few minutes, everything had gone perfectly. She’d lost several operatives, but that was a small price to pay to get Kiyomi.

  A steady barrage of gunfire filled the forest as she dragged her prize backward to the wall. Her remaining operatives were keeping both Laidlaw and Colebrook busy, giving her more than enough of a diversion to take Kiyomi.

  Two of her operatives swung over the top of the wall and landed lightly in front of her. Together they lifted Kiyomi over the top, where two more of her people waited to receive her on the other side. Janelle jumped up, caught the top of the stone and swung her body over it.

  “Another helo’s coming toward us.”

  Janelle glanced up to see a black outline in the distance. Possibly military. “We’ll be gone before they can get here. Hurry.”

  As she landed on the damp grass on the other side, the tallest female operative hoisted Kiyomi across her shoulders and started off down the hill at a lope. Janelle followed at an easy jog while the others fanned out behind her to form a protective semicircle. Not that Laidlaw or Colebrook would be coming anytime soon.

  In the clearing a hundred yards away in front of her, her helo was lowering into a hover. The rotor wash kicked up a flurry of dirt and grass, frightening a handful of sheep into scattering. There was no one else for miles around. No one to stop her.

  Another thrill of triumph hit her, and this time she didn’t try to suppress it. She’d done it. Another couple of minutes and she’d be in the clear, on her way north with Kiyomi finally in her grasp.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Shite.

  Marcus flattened himself on the ground as bullets peppered the trees around him. The sudden increased volume of fire had him pinned in place.

  At the first break, he raised his head and searched for a target, desperate to clear the shooters so he could find Kiyomi. His patience was rewarded a minute later when the underbrush at his two o’clock moved slightly.

  He fired two shots. The brush jiggled, then stilled. The sniper rifle fired somewhere off to his left. Colebrook, still in the game.

  Let’s finish it, then.

  Sudden silence filled the forest, broken only by the sound of the helo’s rotors, turning somewhere out of view behind him. He needed to get Kiyomi, needed to head east to find another place to scale the wall.

  Except moving was going to be a problem.

  Carefully getting to his knees, he grimaced as he struggled to his feet. That fall had aggravated his hip. Jagged shards of glass stabbed through the joint and down his whole thigh with every movement. His already weakened muscles gave out, threatening to send him sprawling on his face.

  Movement to the left.

  He swung the barrel of his weapon toward it, finger on the trigger. Then a weak whistle sounded, barely discernable over the noise from the helo.

  A second later, Brody called out. “Marcus. We’re clear.”

  Keeping his rifle to his shoulder, he cautiously moved out from behind his meager cover and limped his way toward the sniper, now practically dragging his left leg behind him.

  No one fired at him. Finally daring to look over his shoulder, he spotted Brody hunkered down nearby, covering him. “Where are Kiyomi and Trin?” Marcus said curtly.

  “Hopefully over the wall, but the helo’s on that side too.”

  They fell back together, each scanning half of their field of fire. Soon the wall was within sight. Brody let out another whistle.

  A weak, wobbly one answered.

  Brody’s head jerked around. He angled toward it, whistled again.

  The weak whistle came again.

  Brody turned toward the source and ran. Marcus followed as fast as he could, his gut balling tight.

  Ahead of him, Brody leaped over a downed log and put on a burst of speed. “Trin.”

  Oh, Jesus. Trinity lay on her back, a hand pressed to her chest. She was trying to roll to her side. Trying to get up.

  Brody dumped his weapon and fell to his knees beside her, pushing her flat. “Lemme see.” She tried to bat his hands away from her chest. “Lemme see, sweetheart.”

  “Not…bleeding,” she managed. “Busted…ribs. Can’t…breathe.”

  Marcus stood back a good ten yards, weapon up as he glanced around them, growing frantic. There was no sign of Kiyomi.

  Brody ripped the Velcro straps on Trinity’s vest apart to look at her. She growled low in her throat, her legs moving restlessly. But there was no blood on his hands as he swept them over and under her torso.

 
“Where’s Kiyomi?” Marcus demanded.

  “She…took her,” she said between gritted teeth, struggling to roll to her side with Brody’s help.

  His heart lurched.

  He spun around, searching the ground for signs of a struggle. The leaves and forest floor had been disturbed nearby. Cleared in a pattern that indicated something had been dragged along it.

  Marcus followed it as fast as he could with his limp, no longer even feeling the pain. The marks led right up to the wall and stopped near several sets of boot prints in the damp soil.

  Oh, Christ. Oh, Christ, no… The helo.

  Slinging his weapon, he grabbed the top of the wall and hoisted himself up on top. What he saw on the other side made his whole body go numb with fear.

  The helo had set down in a clearing a football field length away, rotors turning. Two dozen yards from it, a group of women were fanned out in a semicircle, protecting a middle-aged woman in the center, and another behind her, carrying Kiyomi.

  No. Please, no.

  He jumped down, landed with most of his weight on his good leg, stifling a cry of agony as his injured hip gave out. He hit the ground on his right side. Rolled to his knees. Fought to his feet once more. He had to get to Kiyomi. Had to stop them.

  He made it a half-dozen steps before his leg buckled again, sending him sprawling face first in the damp grass. He shoved up on his hands and knees, his gaze locked on Kiyomi. They were so close to the damn helo. Another one was coming in behind it. If he didn’t stop them now, he’d lose her forever.

  Two of the women guarding Kiyomi and the Architect fired at him. Dirt sprayed his face and arms. One round carved a crease through the side of his shoulder. The pain in his heart drowned it out as he brought his weapon up and fired at one of them.

  He hit her in the stomach. She doubled over and went down in the grass. The others didn’t stop. Two more fired at him. He ducked. One hit the plate in the front of his vest.

  Looking up, he fired at another shooter. Then another. And another.

  Three more shooters dropped. Two didn’t move. The third started dragging herself toward the helo.

  Only the Architect and the woman carrying Kiyomi remained. But he needed to get closer. He was too far away to guarantee a shot wouldn’t hit Kiyomi with the way they were lined up.

  Bracing for the pain, he forced himself upward once more. He bit back a scream, managed to hobble another dozen yards before he fell. He refused to give up, would never give up.

  He dragged himself forward, his left leg dangling weakly behind him. Panic sliced at him.

  Hurry. Have to save her. Have to stop her from getting aboard the helo.

  He struggled forward, every inch sending shards of agony through his leg, the wound in his shoulder burning. He was almost out of ammo now. Only two shots left.

  Raising his weapon, he aimed for the woman carrying Kiyomi. He fired, hitting her in the back of the thigh. She went down hard, she and Kiyomi both tumbling to the grass.

  Immediately he aimed at the Architect, but he was too late. The psychotic bitch had already lunged forward to grab Kiyomi and dragged her in front. Kiyomi blocked the Architect like a living shield, the angle making it impossible for him to fire.

  A wave of rage and despair hit him. They were steps from the open helicopter door. And he was down to his final shot.

  If he fired and missed, he was out of ammo. Hitting the pilot from this angle was a low-percentage shot. The rotors, even less so. If he hit the Architect, the round would hit Kiyomi too. But he could not let them get aboard that helicopter. If Kiyomi was taken, she faced captivity, torture, and God only knew what other horrors.

  A sickening realization formed in his gut as his only option became clear. He had one final chance to stop this. One final act of mercy he could give her.

  The only way to save her was to do the unthinkable, and fulfill the terrible promise he’d made to her the other night.

  Pushing past the wall of emotions that threatened to crush him, he laid flat on the grass and stared through the sight at Kiyomi’s chest, anguish twisting in his heart as he adjusted his aim. Her vest wouldn’t stop a round from his weapon at this distance.

  I’m so sorry, love.

  ****

  Kiyomi’s heart raced so fast she feared it might burst, thudding in time with the thump of the rotors as the noise from the helo’s engines suddenly increased in pitch. The drug was slowly fading from her system as the woman who looked just like Amber hauled her to the open helo door.

  Her mind whirled, refusing to accept what was happening. Trinity had been shot. Was she dead? What about Marcus?

  Her captor wrestled her the final few feet toward the helo, keeping Kiyomi in front of her like a shield. Kiyomi deliberately stayed a dead weight to make it as difficult as possible for her, ordering her unresponsive muscles to attack.

  Then they were at the helo door, and she found herself in a fight for her life.

  Summoning her remaining strength, she tried to buck. Her muscles refused to obey her, moving in an uncoordinated rush that resulted in her arm flailing into her captor’s face.

  The Architect dumped her on her ass for a moment but remained behind her as she dragged Kiyomi upright once more, holding her beneath the armpits.

  No. You’re not taking me!

  Kiyomi managed to turn her head, tried to sink her teeth into the woman’s neck. A sharp cuff to the side of her face snapped her head back. Then the Architect dragged her backward into the open helo door.

  Someone else tried to climb in beside them. The Architect lashed out with her foot and kicked the person away, sending them tumbling out of the helo and across the grass.

  Kiyomi tried another bite, missed. Flailed one hand up to try and gouge the woman’s eyes. Another blow to the face stunned her for a second. Adrenaline pumped hard and fast through her veins, but still the drug had her in its grip.

  It was maddening to be unable to fight back while her mind remained almost clear. She lurched as the Architect finally dragged her up onto the helo deck, pulling Kiyomi practically into her lap.

  Kiyomi bucked as best she could, desperately tried to fight. “Why?” she managed to get out, her voice slurred, drowsy. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re going to be my blueprint.” She was panting, her voice filled with elation.

  Blueprint? For what?

  “Go, go!” the Architect shouted to the pilot, grunting as she continued dragging Kiyomi farther inside. “Before that other helo comes in!”

  What other helo?

  The vibrations in the deck changed. The pilot lifted them a few inches.

  No! She wouldn’t let them take her!

  Kiyomi wrenched an arm up, clawed at the hand under her arm—and froze.

  A red laser dot marked the front of her vest. Forcing her gaze upward, she squinted across the open field. Not far from the stone wall, she spotted him.

  Marcus was lying prone, his rifle aimed at her chest. He couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t save her.

  So he was going to end her suffering, just as he’d promised.

  A sudden wash of tears burned her eyes as she stared back at him, a mix of grief and gratitude. He was alive, but this would hurt him terribly. She was sorry for that, but thankful for his strength to do what needed to be done.

  “Thank you,” she whispered to him, hoping he could see it.

  She was vaguely aware of the helo beginning to lift, easing forward as in slow motion. The next instant, the bullet struck.

  The pain was so intense it punched the air from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, the world eclipsed in an agonizing burn as she slumped forward.

  Somewhere in the background a high-pitched scream filled her ears as she and the Architect tumbled out of the rising helo.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The instant he squeezed the trigger, everything stopped. Time. His heart.

  Marcus thought his chest would implode as he watched the bullet hit h
ome, then Kiyomi tumbled out of the helo. She hit the ground on her back, next to the Architect, and didn’t move. The Architect writhed on the ground, his shot having gone through Kiyomi to strike her as well.

  A sickening wave of horror swamped him as he stared at Kiyomi lying utterly still on the grass. Bile rushed up his throat, a grief-stricken scream sticking there.

  Fuck, had he missed his placement? She’d moved at the very last second…

  Numb all over, blood pulsing in his ears, he dropped his empty rifle and forced himself to his feet. He staggered forward a few steps, fell to his knees. The smaller Griffin was flying off now, abandoning the Architect because the approaching Puma was coming in fast.

  “Marcus!”

  He jerked his head around to see Brody leaping down from the top of the wall. He ran to Marcus, grabbed him around the ribs and hoisted him upright. “What happened?”

  “I shot her,” he croaked out. She’d seen the laser dot a moment before he’d fired. He’d seen her lips move. Bloody thanking him for what she’d assumed would be a lethal shot. He wanted to puke.

  Brody stared at him in disbelief, then horror. “What?”

  Marcus tried to shove him away but Brody muscled him forward. “Trinity’s still on the other side. I didn’t want to move her.”

  Marcus couldn’t take his eyes off Kiyomi. He had to get to her. Had to stop the bleeding, save her. The shooters were all down but more were coming. “I’m out of ammo. The Puma—”

  “It’s our team,” Brody shouted back over the noise. “Amber called me a minute ago. They’d been trying to reach us for the past half-hour, but the reception out here’s too spotty.”

  Marcus glanced up at the approaching Puma and recognized Megan leaning out the open door. She waved an arm to signal him as the pilots slowed the aircraft and dropped into a low hover. “Just get me to Kiyomi,” he told Brody, voice ragged.

  Brody clamped an arm around his back and draped one of Marcus’s across his own shoulders. Marcus hopped along as fast as he could go on his good leg, his lungs tight, heart racing frantically.