by Jack Parker
* * *
Emery was too panicked to register the source of the erupting gunfire, but the distraction had allowed him to twist. One of the men holding him lost his grip in light of Sheridan's knife lodging halfway into said man's arm and he fell back, clutching it and screaming, giving Emery the opportunity to wrench out of the other one's grip and punch him in the face. Emery reeled back as the Dutchman's men began scattering in shock and immediately looked to Kurt and Victor. They had fallen quickly to the ground to avoid the bullet storm.
Sheridan was staring in surprise at the man whose arm he'd inadvertently driven the knife into before snapping out of it and looking around. His eyes landed on Emery and flared with rage. "Don't let them move a fucking inch!" he snarled to his men. Then a bullet struck the bleeding man next to him and he was forced to flee for cover. Several of them fell, but most had begun glimpsing their attackers and were returning fire. Emery scrambled for a gun. A man had already approached Kurt, aiming his weapon down at him just as his hand was reaching for another fallen mercenary's piece.
"Don't move," the gunman said, aiming at him.
Kurt raised his hands. The man kept his gun on Kurt and Victor, but Emery had found himself a gun of his own. "Drop it," he ordered.
"I can kill one of them before you can kill me," was the reply. "I'm quicker with a gun."
A sharp pop split the air around them and the left side of the man's head was suddenly spurting blood. Victor reached out and grabbed for the gun as the body fell towards the direction that the bullet had exited his skull. They all looked over to see Georgie Faraday not far off, weapon raised. "Not quick enough," she decided.
"Georgie," Emery breathed in relief.
Ludkov was not far behind. Kurt allowed himself to be pulled to his feet by the Russian's great hand. He offered Ludkov grateful nod and grabbed at Emery.
"Your timing couldn't be better," Emery said to them, clutching Kurt's arm back reassuringly.
"Are you boys alright?" Georgie asked.
Emery nodded. "We lost Hennessey."
"Well as much as I'd like to cry a never-ending river of tears for that dickhead, let's talk about this later!" Victor suggested, pointing out towards what Emery realized was a new fleet of Thompson's men quickly attempting to close in.
"Shit," Emery blurted. "Let's get to the back gate while we've still got the chance."
"To the front gate," amended Kurt, shoving him around the other way.
Emery attempted to ask why, but the nearing gunfire forced them to follow regardless. They bolted for cover against the side of the building and managed to avoid most pursuers for the time being while they were preoccupied by the cluster of Hennessey's men Georgie and Ludkov had dragged in with them.
"Do you hear that train?" Kurt asked as they fled.
Emery listened and sure enough heard the blare of the horn again, this time much closer, and he got the idea. "Do you think we can make it?"
"Better goddamn hope!" Victor said.
They ran as fast as they could, but bullets sang closer and closer. A growing team of Thompson's killers were gaining on them as they rounded the lab towards the front. Just a few hundred more feet. They made it around the corner, which would temporarily block them from the line of fire, when a shot finally hit its mark. Ludkov was struck in the leg. He toppled to the ground, rolling once and winded from the impact. Emery skidded to a halt.
"Aleksei!" Georgie called out, rushing back. Two men emerged from the corner and she immediately shot them both. Then she ran to his side, dropping down. Emery followed.
"Get up, Ludkov, come on," Emery ordered, grasping an arm.
"Chyort voz'mi!" Ludkov spat, rolling to one elbow. He looked back to the two dead men Georgie had shot and sneered, then his face grew serious and he shirked off Emery's grip. "Nyet. You run."
"No. If we leave you you're dead," Emery attempted to reason. Another few men came upon them and Victor and Kurt dispatched them.
Ludkov nodded. "And if you do not, then you will share my fate. There is no time." He gripped Emery's shirt and pulled him close with a meaningful glower. "But you will come back. You will kill him. You must kill him."
Emery was held firm in Ludkov's gaze before he reluctantly nodded.
"The hell we will. If I've got to knock you out and drag you off, I'll do it," Georgie threatened.
Ludkov shoved Emery away and held up a hand with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "Take her."
"Take me?" Georgie repeated, clearly scandalized. Victor was already behind her and snatching her arms. "Begging your fucking pardon, Mr. Scott!"
"Go!" Ludkov snapped urgently.
Emery looked up to see more men charging from the front doors of the building for them. Kurt moved in front of him and held up his gun. Emery took one last harrowed look at Ludkov before leaping up and joining Victor in his struggle to manhandle Georgie away from the scene while Kurt gave cover fire. She continued to put up a fight, but Emery grabbed her shoulders and shook her once.
"Georgie, he's right. If we stay with him there'll be no saving him—we're useless to him here," he said. "Now come on!"
Georgie let out a frustrated growl and wrenched herself out of Victor's grip, but ran ahead of them to lead the way towards the gate and the train tracks just beyond. Emery could see the top of the train as it came just beyond the railway cars. It was upon them. They didn't have more than a minute, he guessed. Kurt stopped just behind one of the cars as they cleared the gate to return fire and buy them a moment's retreat before plodding on. Emery stumbled to a halt just a mere five yards from the passing train as he saw yet another group of men waiting nearby. "Fuck," he sputtered, but crouched down, quickly motioning to his team to approach quickly and quietly. Victor, Georgie, and lastly Kurt joined him and peered out at the meandering bodies. "They've thought of this," Emery whispered. "We're bloody surrounded."
Kurt set his jaw and checked the magazine of his gun before popping it back in. "We'll have to confront them."
"I'm counting at least ten," Georgie said, eyes scanning rapidly. "There's not a chance we could evade that many."
"If you lack confidence then fall back," Kurt responded indifferently.
"No," Emery butted in, "We can't take that many. We've got to find another way."
Victor shook his head beside him. "There is no other way. This yard is gated and guarded. We've got guys behind us and ahead of us and if we wait here much longer, we're gonna get caught."
"This isn't the time for your pessimism," Emery noted absently.
Victor turned back at him and his face was alarmingly serious as their eyes met. "It's not pessimism, Em. It's a plan. And you should damn sure know by now that my plans always work."
Emery stared at him without understanding. "What's the plan, then?"
Victor looked over at Kurt and Georgie for a moment. Then he drew his eyes back to Emery's and clapped a hand on the side of the shorter man's neck. "You fucking run."
Suddenly Victor was bolting. He leapt out from behind the train car and Emery realized instantly what he was doing. "No!" he cried, reaching out to grab him back but missing. Kurt had reached out at the same moment to take Emery by the shirt collar and yank him back to safety. He, Kurt, and Georgie watched with horror as Victor rounded on the group of gunmen and opened fire. One cried out, clearly hit, before Victor was running, leading them away from the train. Shots fired after him. "Victor!" Emery exclaimed, but had to duck as a bullet struck the car near his head from behind. The men from the facility were nearly upon them.
Emery returned fire twice, but Kurt was already pulling him hastily away to make a break for the moving train. He tried to get a look at where Victor had gone, but he was out of sight in the crowd of railway vans now, god knows in what state. The train had nearly passed by their section of the tracks. An open car towards the end was coming up and they ran at an angle to meet it as it arrived. Georgie was the first to leap aboard. She found her feet as quickly as a cat and
reached down as Emery leapt after, grabbing his arm and pulling him up as well. Kurt came up last and they both dragged him in just in time to avoid a spray of gunfire. Emery instinctively threw himself over Kurt's downed body until the shots tapered.
Kurt gently pushed him off and stood, pulling him to his feet as well.
"Fuck," Emery said, scrambling to catch his balance and leaning out the open car door. He scoured the train yard for their fallen comrade. He could see men rushing to some point up ahead. As the train passed, Emery watched the scene with terror. Victor was grounded to his knees in a group of killers, his hands on his head, guns trained on him at all sides. Emery's heart dropped.
Kurt pulled him away as the train moved on. "Keep out of sight."
"We can't leave him there," Emery declared firmly.
"For the time being we have no choice," Kurt said. He briefly dusted himself off and tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants.
"Bollocks. The fucking cunts. Shit. Cocks," Georgie was panting, hand on her injured side as she began to pace. "It was all planned. Every angle covered. How did we not fucking see?"
"What do we do?" Emery asked helplessly.
"We get back," Georgie decided.
Emery shook his head. "How?"
"Where there's a will, there's a way. It won't end like this. I don't care what I've got to do." Georgie paused, trying to get her thoughts straight. "We'll contact McDermott. He's still out there and he's still got a good portion of Hennessey's men."
"It won't do us any good," Kurt said. "We'll have to regroup. We'll have to wait."
"Wait?" Emery asked in disbelief, staring out at the long patch of grass the train was now passing. Several yards ahead it ended again in the concrete of a cityscape. "We can't wait. Victor could be killed."
"Thompson won't kill Victor," Kurt argued. "He needs him. Victor is now his only leverage. His bait in luring us back."
"Even if he doesn't, god knows what he could do to Victor in the meantime," Georgie pointed out. "And if Victor's time is limited, you can be certain that Aleksei's is more so. Waiting be damned."
"If you'd like to go storming in there on your own, be my guest," Kurt replied carelessly.
Emery looked over at Kurt, becoming oblivious to the squabbling as his mind raced. This had all gone so badly. Everything had come apart. They'd lost two team members—three, if Hennessey was to be missed—and all they had to show for their efforts was an even more dedicated bounty than what they'd been branded with before. It couldn't end this way. He looked back at the grass, then ahead again to the approaching concrete.
He didn't know what would happen to Victor. Perhaps Kurt was wrong. Perhaps he'd be killed. At the very least, Georgie was most certainly right. He wouldn't be treated kindly. And if they took the bait and allowed themselves all to be lured back into Thompson's clutches, Kurt and Georgie would also die. There would be no mercy for them and Emery knew it. That left only one thing to do.
"Kurt," Emery said calmly.
Kurt looked over at him.
Emery met his eyes and for a moment tried to will to him all of his love. "Stay safe, darling."
He only had an instant to register the burst of shock on his lover's face as he dove from the train just seconds before the grass embankment ended, ensuring that he could not be followed. His world flipped and his head went numb when he hit the earth, rolling and toppling with dirt flying as he skidded to his back in the field. He felt dizzy as he immediately tried sitting up. His head hurt and he could already tell that one leg was badly bruised, but his shoulder had been spared impact and blessedly did not suffer another dislocation. He staggered to his feet and watched the train disappearing from view.
Emery coughed roughly and bent over, brushing the dirt out of his hair and clothes. He was far enough away from the facility that he couldn't be seen. Only a short walk back, and this time it would have to be undetected. He turned to look out at his destination framed against the darkening sky when a ringing caught his attention. He fished his mobile out of his pocket. Georgie's name appeared on the ID, but he knew that it would be Kurt. Pain gripped his heart hard. For how long and how desperately had he awaited Kurt's call in his absence? How many times had he stared at his phone and felt himself shatter bit by bit each time there was no message? And now, when it was finally received, he couldn't bring himself to answer. Emery closed his eyes, shut off the mobile, and tucked it away.
When his eyes opened, it was with wrath. Kurt was right—it was time for vengeance. No one stole his lover away. No one terrorized his city. No one kidnapped his mates. Emery Fletcher was nobody's victim, nobody's pawn, and nobody's fool. Not ever again. He drew his gun before beginning his march onward under the cover of newly arrived nightfall.
Chapter 29
Victor knew it was in his best interest not to struggle. The guys shoving him along with guns to his back were already rough enough after he jumped out at them guns blazing, so testing tempers was likely to earn him a good beating at the very least. Not that it mattered. He was pretty sure that wherever they were taking him to would be the place he died in. He kept his hands on his head and obediently waltzed through the opened back door of the laboratory that he was ushered into. From there he was directed to an elevator.
The lab was an immaculate facility. Everything was clean, smooth, and brightly lit, filled with prowling mercenaries all in black who paid him no mind as they bustled back and forth. Victor took in as much of the building as he could. He was directed down a long hallway lined by windows to spacious lab floors, classroom type settings, and testing chambers. This had to be where the Dutchman's heroin was manufactured. The guy really did have his entire operation covered from the ground up. He was shoved painfully when his pace slowed and he continued on down the hall until they made it to a door to a room for which there were no windows. The man ahead of him opened it and stepped inside.
The room was as steel and sterile as everywhere else. It was lined with cabinets and medical tools at the sides, but Victor took little note of that in light of what was in the middle. Two surgical tables with built-in restraints. On one of them lay Aleksei Ludkov, completely bound, eyes studying the ceiling and his wounded leg trickling blood onto the floor. The other table was vacant and Victor had a pretty good idea as to why. He couldn't help but reel back in protest, but hands forced him forward while the first man in the room began to undo the table's restraints. With a sinking sensation in his stomach he stumbled onto it. His legs were hauled up and his arms grabbed as they began to strap him down.
Ludkov was looking over at him with clear disappointment. "I cannot say I am pleased to see you, Victor."
Victor's eyes darted around at his captors as they began to file out of the room. "Likewise." He carefully tested the restraints and it was clear there would be no getting out of this. He sighed, relaxing back against the table. He turned his head and tried to get a look down at Ludkov's leg. It didn't look too bad, considering. The bullet had ripped through the meat of his calf, but it was pretty superficial. He'd be just peachy if by some miracle they made it out of this mess. He craned his head back to see that all of the men had left the room, but one stayed behind to hold the door open.
"The others?" Ludkov asked quietly.
"Long gone, I hope," Victor replied.
Ludkov nodded, seeming satisfied, and returned his gaze to the ceiling.
Victor glanced again to the guy holding the door before lowering his voice. "What the fuck do they want with us?"
Ludkov's eyes flickered back as footsteps neared from down the hall. "I suspect we will soon see."
It was only a moment later when Victor heard a familiar chuckle. Slow steps sounded from the door before Casey Sheridan was suddenly standing above him. Great. He was grinning and looked nine kinds of fucked up, like he'd just done a few hits of coke since he'd last seen him a few minutes ago. He probably had. "How's it hangin', Vicky?"
Victor stared back at him cautiously and chose
not to say anything.
"No hello? Nothing? Ah, you break my heart, Scott. You really do." Sheridan wandered to his side, looking around the room and repeatedly wiping his face. "This place is a trip, right? Talk about having all your bases covered. Thompson's got a hell of a thing going here. I think that's what impressed me the most—the attention to detail. Like, say, a foolproof contingency plan for when one of his own people tries to get a knife in his back. The guy sees everything."
Victor watched Sheridan pace a circle and prod at a few jars full of cotton swabs before turning his attention back.
"I get it. You're surprised to see me, that's understandable. Casper the friendly ghost, am I right?" he held up his hands and laughed, then set them at his hips. "I guess you thought I was dead, too. Or maybe you just hoped. But friends in high places always come in handy when you least expect 'em. Isn't that right, Lex?"
Ludkov glanced briefly at him with distaste and remained silent.
Sheridan wandered over to him, observing his injured leg with glee. "How's this for poetic justice?" he asked, slapping the leg and making Ludkov snarl in pain. "I still limp thanks to that little love bite you gave me. I wish I could tell you that this bullet hole is just a memento, but the fact is it ain't gonna have time to heal. I can't wait to see how the head honcho finishes you off."
"You're 'friend' is a guy who makes his living duping every ally he has," Victor objected, trying to shift Sheridan's focus off of Ludkov. "You're kidding yourself thinking you're in leagues with this guy. He'll turn on you, too. It's just a matter of when."
Sheridan snorted, wandering back over. "So what are you saying, Vic? That I should stick to crews with guys like you? …Nah. See, I tried that. Turns out little cunts are just as likely to screw you over as big ones." Sheridan paused, then began pacing. "You know, I'd forgiven you for walking out on the job. Really, I had. Things got heated and we all lost our heads, so I figured I'd be the bigger man and just let it go. Why do you think your sorry ass is still alive? I could've wasted you any time I wanted, but I didn't. Because I thought better of you than that. Clearly that was my mistake."