Under the Gun

by HelenKay Dimon

  “That explains a lot about you.”

  “It’s not news to you. You know that much of my background.”

  “But the context is different now.”

  “Okay.”

  “But have at it.” She handed him the edges. “Be all you can be.”

  He tried to keep her gaze on him and her back to the door. She didn’t need to see the smoke pouring in and around the makeshift blockage and slowly filling the room. He knew she could hear the house creak and moan beneath them, knew she smelled the fire and felt the heat under them. From all around, flames spit out windows and blackness filled the sky.

  They had to go or risk losing their only hope.

  He tightened the sheets at every juncture one last time. Unless they ripped, they should hold.

  “You’re going first,” he said.

  “No. I can follow.”

  “If you lead, I’ll know you’re out.” And that would leave him as the one to fight off the flames he knew were about to knock on the door.

  He already heard the shocking whoosh of fire as it started its race up the hallway. That meant they were dealing in seconds, instead of minutes, at this point.

  When she hesitated, he slid her thigh up and onto the edge of the balcony wall. “You’ve got to go.”

  Her gaze searched his face. “Promise me you’ll follow. No hero stuff.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She kissed him then, long and deep. The intensity shook him. He knew she was saying a possible goodbye.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Then she lowered her body over the edge. With shaking arms and panic in her eyes, she slipped hand over hand down the side. When her side slammed against the wall, she screamed but held on.

  Fear shot through him. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said in a shaky voice.

  He knew she could see the fire. Feel the extreme heat against her clothes and skin. He tried to keep her attention focused on him. “You’re almost there.”

  She had a good thirty feet to go. The poisoned air made her cough.

  But she was better down there than up here with him, so he was grateful. Fire danced up the doorway and snapped at the ceiling.

  He pulled tighter to the edge of the balcony and inhaled as much air as possible. Even that stagnated in his mouth. The air outside slowly became as polluted as the stuff behind him.

  “Luke!”

  Her scream had him looking down again. Flames exploded around her. He thought about jumping down there but forced his legs to stay still.

  “Swing out,” he yelled over the roar of the fire.

  “How?”

  “Move your body. Get away from the flames.” He had to curl his hands around his mouth and yell down to her. The banging and hissing from the fire almost drowned him out.

  She pushed, at first barely moving. But when a cloud of smoke engulfed her, she began rocking back and forth. He helped from above by pulling the sheets away from the wall. The motion caused the bed to smack harder against the doorframe, but the knots held and the creaking wood continued to provide the needed counterbalance to her weight.

  “Now, Claire. Jump.”

  She glanced up, her eyes filled with terror, and then nodded. He could see her take a breath. And then she let go. With a yelp, she flapped her arms and fell. When her body hit the edge of the mattress and rolled off onto the grass, he stopped breathing.

  He leaned out farther and tried to make out her form through the billowing smoke. “Claire?”

  “Get down here!”

  Nothing subtle about that. Luke didn’t wait for a second command. He curled the sheets around his good arm and threw a leg over the wall. He tugged twice to make sure he still had some leverage. Holding his body up with one hand and shimmying down wasn’t going to be easy. He had to depend on open spaces against the wall to jump off and land. Then he had to hope he didn’t send his body flying right into the flames.

  Smoke filled the bedroom. The flames raced right behind. The bed would go up in the next few seconds.

  He hopped off the edge and felt the immediate tug of his weight against the muscles in his biceps and shoulder. His bones strained and his hand blistered as he hung there.

  The blaze raged around him. He couldn’t even see the ground. The rumble and crack of the fire filled the area as the sky turned black with smoke.

  He swung his body against an open space on the wall. With one arm, he couldn’t stop his momentum and smashed into the brick wall. His grip slipped, dropping him two feet lower on the sheets.

  Claire’s muffled shouts reached him through the noise and madness. She was begging him to keep going.

  That was the push he needed. He clutched the material tighter in his fist and used his legs to guide him down. As he hit the bottom floor of the house, all he saw was fire. It traveled everywhere, destroying everything it touched.

  He hung there, fifteen feet from the ground and unable to locate the mattress, and knew the climb down was over. The fire had scorched the end of the sheets from the bottom and was moving up toward him. He bunched his body, bringing his legs up tight to his stomach, then pushed out and let go.

  The tumble through the air took about a second but felt like forever. Boiling heat surrounded him. Flames inched up to touch him. He passed through it all, landing with a hard thump on the far edge of the mattress. Despite the cushion, the whack of ground against bones shocked the breath right out of him.

  Claire was there to bring it back.

  She gripped his arm and started pulling. “Luke, wake up.”

  He didn’t realize his eyes were closed until she said the words. “Give me a second.”

  “We don’t have one to spare.” Her tugging became more insistent.

  He looked up and saw the wall of red and orange roaring in front of them. They stood in a half circle of fire. They had a slim path out to green grass and land not seared by an uncontrolled inferno.

  Finding a reserve of energy fueled only by adrenaline, he pushed to his feet and ran at a crouch with Claire by his side. The house exploded behind them as they continued to chase fresh air.

  Out of danger, they fell to the hard ground and coughed out the smoke filling their lungs. Fatigue dragged at his muscles, but Luke knew they weren’t done. He had lost contact with Adam and Holden. They could be anywhere, including in the middle of the hell they had just escaped.

  He lost the mic during all the climbing and falling. There was only one other way to check on his friends. He found the energy to lift his arm and stare at his watch. The screen was black.

  “Why aren’t the fire trucks here?” Claire asked. The question came out in a rasp.

  “We’re far enough away from other houses that it will take time for anyone to see it.”

  “There’s enough smoke to signal another planet.”

  “Well, when you hear the sirens don’t get too excited.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re not supposed to be here, remember?”

  “Right.” She tapped her fingers against his chest. “Where do you think Steve and Phil are? The goal was to catch them. They could be anywhere.”

  He wished they were dead, but he knew better.

  “They’re running.”

  “I doubt they’ll be as good at it as I was.”

  “I’m hoping they drive past Holden and he rams their car.” Luke felt her shift. When he finally found the strength to open his eyes, her expression swam above him. “What? What are you thinking?”

  “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “For what?”

  “I know where they are.”

  Luke wasn’t sure he knew where he was at this point. “How is that possible?”

  “They’re not driving.”

  “Then what are they doing?”

  “How about flying?”

  He lifted his head off the ground. “I don’t—”

  “Adam said there was a helicopter pad on the groun
ds.”

  Luke’s brain cells started firing again. “Sounds convenient for the perfect getaway.”

  “Not if we can help it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Claire stared out into the distance and tried to figure out where her evil ex-husband would hide a helicopter pad. She strained to remember if the site had shown up on the photo lineup Adam had shared with them on the laptop. She could only conjure up a blank page.

  “Which way?” she asked when she couldn’t come up with the direction just by willing it.

  Luke’s gaze wandered over the landscape before settling on the far side of what once was the house. “There.”

  “Are you guessing?”

  “More of a deduction, actually.”

  “Based on?”

  “I know it’s not behind us and wouldn’t be in the front yard. That only leaves one direction.”

  “That’s good enough for me.”

  With the world exploding behind them and pieces of flaming wood and paper falling to the ground around them, they kept moving. The jog to the opposite end of the house took forever. The ache in her leg slowed them down. She kept trying to shake it off, but the crack of marble against her knee had done some damage.

  Dodging behind the small outbuildings scattered around the grounds and hiding from any eyes that might be watching also limited their progress. The only good news was that the fire hadn’t engulfed the older part of the house. That meant their march across the wide yard brought some fresh air and welcome relief for her dry nose and parched throat. But not much. Smoke and the charred smell seeped into everything.

  When they reached the edge of the house, he pushed her back against a gardening shed. “Stop.”

  She didn’t mind the manhandling now. Walking into the middle of a new disaster didn’t appeal to her. “What do you see?”

  “Two idiots loading boxes onto a helicopter.”

  “The other guards?”

  “No, the idiots you were related to.”

  She peeked around the corner. On the next acre over sat the aircraft in the middle of a concrete pad. There was a small steel hangar between them and the Samson brothers. Other than that, they were looking at a wide-open field with grass that looked as if it hadn’t been mowed in a month—very few places to hide.

  “Can Phil fly a helicopter?” Luke asked.

  “You’re asking the wrong person. I didn’t even know he owned this house.”

  “Well, there’s not much left of that.”

  They both glanced over at what used to be a stone mansion. Now it was a ball of fire slowly collapsing in on itself on one side.

  “What a waste.” She thought that summed up the property, as well as the past two years.

  “Yeah, someone could have used it as a hospital.”

  “Or a college.” She left that problem and focused on the human one in front of her. “What are they doing?”

  “Packing.”

  “What’s left?”

  “Whatever they need to make a run for it. Looks like they stored whatever they needed back here. The money is likely already out of the reach of the U.S. government.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “They wouldn’t take the risk of having it with them. It’s been transferred and transferred again to throw off anyone trying to track it down.”

  “It shouldn’t be that easy.”

  “You’d be amazed.”

  “So why waste time with whatever they’re doing now?”

  “This is the getaway part of their plan.”

  “Even if they can fly that thing out, they’re not going to get very far in it. They can’t exactly get to South America from here.” Not that she knew much about helicopters. She barely knew anything about cars except you got in and started the engine. “Right?”

  “They only have to get to a private airport. That’s not a problem out here in rich-people country. I’m sure there are airstrips all over the place.”

  “Convenient.”

  “And with their money they can bribe people from there, hire a flight instructor or anyone who needs some cash and get out of the country.”

  “I wish they’d done that from the beginning and left me alone.”

  “They needed you to buy time and for cover. They’ve been hatching this for quite some time. Hell, these two likely have had their escape all mapped out ever since they decided to take their employees’ money. They knew how to get everything else done without making the police suspect them.”

  “I wouldn’t have said they were that smart.”

  “Think of it as underhanded.”

  She watched as Phil heaved a bag onto the helicopter. “So they get to leave with all that money.”

  “Yeah, they think so.”

  “What do you think?”

  “That we’re going to stop them.”

  “Any idea how we do that?”

  “They believe their plan worked and we’re dead, so we have surprise on our side.”

  Luke was getting ready to pounce. The anxiety thrumming off him crashed against her. The pure predator in him shone through in every line of his body. Everything in his stance said battle. He had the prey in his sights.

  His need to attack sparked hers. “We have to get out there now before they spot us or take off.”

  “I will.”

  She closed her eyes to keep from screaming. “You aren’t leaving me behind and we are not going to spend two seconds arguing that point.”

  He nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of disagreeing with you.”

  That was way too easy. She hadn’t won a similar battle with him—ever. Now he was acquiescing to her command and smiling at her as if he’d gone simple.

  She didn’t trust the change one bit.

  “So what are you dreaming about?” she asked, waiting for him to return to his me-man-you-woman-stay-here ways.

  “Crawling over there, getting the jump on Phil and then using him as a shield against Steve. The goal is to keep them from lifting off and grab whatever it is they think is important enough to waste time loading on the plane.”

  “You think Steve is in charge.” For some reason that struck her as odd. She had also viewed Phil as the more suave and sophisticated of the two.

  “He’s the one with the gun.”

  “Under that theory you’re in charge.”

  “Yeah, let’s see how that works.”

  Luke could shoot both men for all she cared.

  “And what do I do while you’re doing your superhero act across the lawn?” she asked.

  He nodded to the building situated between them and the escape helicopter. “Circle around by the hangar.”

  “You think there’s another helicopter in there?”

  “I only have one gun and I’m going to need it, so you need to find a weapon.”

  “Like what?”

  “A piece of metal. A crowbar. Anything you can carry and use to stab or hit with.”

  “And just who am I attacking?”

  Phil. She wanted to take Phil down.

  “Whichever one I leave standing,” Luke said.

  “Makes sense. I like the plan so far.”

  Luke drew a diagram on her hand with his finger. “I go in from the front and you sneak around from the back.”

  When he started to kneel down and winced in the process, guilt struck her. She laid a hand against his hair. “Can you do this?”

  “I’m the professional, remember?”

  “You’ve been beaten and you fall about one story to the hard ground. Even professionals are destructible.”

  “You jumped and you’re fine.”

  “I was almost at the bottom of those sheets when I let go. You were at the top.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  That was his mantra. She now understood that he said the empty words whenever he was the exact opposite of fine.

  But they had a bigger problem. A mess she was trying to ignore rather than r
isk having it stop her. But she had to deal with it. Luke’s life might depend on it.

  She brushed her fingers over the sticky stain on his now crusty shirt. “You have blood everywhere.”

  “What?” He glanced at his shoulder and frowned. “I need a new bandage.”

  The ultimate understatement.

  The reality is that he hadn’t even realized that blood poured down his arm. She guessed that the mix of danger and adrenaline kept his blood pumping and the pain at bay. Either that or he had moved into a state of advanced denial. His mind had shut off to the numbness moving through him.

  His brain might be fighting the extent of his injuries, but hers wasn’t. She hadn’t seen him move his arm in any significant way since they got into the mansion. When he held her, he only used one hand. And watching him get down that rope while one arm dangled at his side counted as the most harrowing moment in a series of endless horrors.

  Swollen fingers. Limp muscles. Blood soaking through what was once white cotton wrapped around the wound. The same material now glowing and stained with dark red.

  It didn’t take a doctor to know Luke was in huge physical trouble. She expected he couldn’t even close his fist at this point. So she made the decision for him. Her priorities were clear now. Whatever happened to her happened. She could face jail, even a false sentence, if Luke lived. The important thing was to get him to a hospital before he lost his arm…or worse.

  “We should forget about this and leave.” She pointed at the figures in the distance.

  “No.”

  “Let them get away. They don’t matter now.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I’m sure we can track down a neighbor or passing car somewhere around here.”

  “I said no. Several times. I mean it. We’re finishing this if it kills me.”

  That was her fear. “We know the truth.”

  Her biggest concern, greatest relief, was that Luke believe in her. She could face anything or anyone with that knowledge tucked deep in her heart.

  Luke refused to listen. He shook his head. “I’m going in.”

  She tilted his chin so that his gaze was forced to meet hers. “It doesn’t matter. Only you matter.”