Nadia's Salvation

by K. A Knight

  Heading around the side of the house, I climb the fence and hide in the bushes there, watching. He has patrols on. They circle the house, and I time them. It takes them four minutes to get around, I have a four-minute window. I wait for them to pass again, and then burst from my spot and race towards the house. Taking a running leap, I land on the trellis on the side and start to climb, berating myself to go faster.

  Just as I see the torches of the men coming back around the corner, I roll onto the balcony of the second story window and stop breathing as they pass. Turning, I place my back to the wall and peek into the window to see a darkened room. Using the handle of the knife, I smash the lock and slip inside, shutting the door behind me. Crouching, I race on quiet feet across the carpeted room to the door, and press my ear to it. When I hear nothing, I glance outside. I must be on the old side of the building. It looks like they are renovating with the plastic curtain up, cutting off this side from the other, right next to the doorway I’m standing in.

  Slipping out, I keep my back to the wall as I move through the curtain. I run straight into a man coming out of another door. Punching him before he can yell, I grab his throat, wrap my arm around it, and snap his neck before he can make a noise. Sticking his body back in the room, I shut the door and keep going.

  I find two more men and dispatch them just as quickly, making my way to the first floor. He’s got to be waiting for me with her downstairs, but I don’t want any surprises or anyone sneaking up on me, so I go room to room, clearing it. I find a guard asleep in a guest room, and using a pillow as a poor man’s suppressor, I shoot him in the head with his own gun. Taking it with me, I empty the last room and wait at the top of the stairs, looking at my watch just as the lights cut out.

  Right on time.

  Fourteen minutes, not bad.

  Heading down the stairs, I pick a door at random, going right. It leads to what appears to be an office and I can’t resist. I head to the computer on the desk and stand there in the dark, gaining access. It’s the fucking jackpot.

  Names.

  Addresses.

  Clients.

  Everything. I email it to Donald before leaving the room. I don’t know if I’ll make it out of this alive, so at least he’ll have something to go on, and in the event of my death, everything in my hard drives is sent to him for control.

  I just step into the hallway when I hear boots. Guards, I’m betting, they must know I’m here. They come in formation down the hallway between the stairs and the other door, eight of them, with torches held above semi-automatic guns. They are in tactical gear and masks.

  One of their lights catches on me, so I dive back into the office as a barrage of bullets starts, raining down on where I just stood. I wait for them to stop and get to my feet, listening hard until I hear breathing outside the door. Sliding the door open slowly, I find one of their backs to me as they circle where I previously stood. Grinning, I yank him into the office and grab the knife from his belt, slicing his throat, my hands covering his as he kicks and flails. When he stops, I slide him to the floor, move to the other side of the door, and wait. I can see, probably better than they can, used to hunting in the dark.

  Picking one at random, I throw a knife, watching it embed in the tiny gap between his armour and his head, throwing him back and impaling him. Clutching my own knife, I duck outside as they turn to the sound of his body falling. Sneaking up behind one, I stab him in the leg, and when he screams and turns, I snatch his gun and smack him in the face with it.

  Moving quickly, I get out of the way as torches turn to him and they fire blindly. Killing their own man. Using his gun, I shoot at them, their bodies jerking with the impact, all of them going down hard. The torches scatter to the floor, lights glowing ominously around the entryway. Seizing one, I shine it across them to see one of the guards still struggling to breathe, his eyes open and scared, blood covering his lips as he coughs.

  “Say hi to them for me,” I tell him as I fire into his eye, and watch his brain splatter everywhere.

  Stepping over their bodies, I move into the other room just as the lights come back on. I’m guessing it’s either a backup circuit or they figured out what I did and un-did it. It illuminates the scene before me. My girl and a man.

  She is tied to the table, a rope across her neck and thighs, with a gag in her mouth. Her eyes are wide and filled with pain and anger. There is blood covering her, but I can’t figure out what’s hurt or where. I see red as I turn to him.

  She’s naked.

  On his table.

  He took my girl.

  Mine.

  He watches me, sipping a glass of wine at the head of the table, not the least bit bothered that I’m now pointing a gun at him as I advance, nor by the fact that I clearly just took down all his guards. There is a momentary flicker of fear in his eyes, but he kills it, giving me all I need to know.

  He’s human, like me, he can bleed and die and feel fear.

  “Nice of you to join us, Spider,” he greets, raising his glass to me in salutation. “I have been having a very nice chat with your girlfriend here, quite the unruly one, isn’t she? I did offer her civilised conversation, but as you can see, she proceeded to try and kill me.” He sighs like the thought is distasteful. This is the man with all the blood on his hands? The big player? The mastermind behind it all? I expected...more.

  “I expected more,” I comment, voicing my opinion.

  He growls, offended. “I’m sorry to disappoint. You, however, did not. The killer of men, an assassin, your name is whispered in hushed tones of reverence and fear. The man who sees everything, spinning his intricate web about his victim until it’s too late...but I think, Spider...this time it is you who is caught.”

  “How so?” I ask, moving closer, my eyes flickering to Nadia to see her struggling, her eyes screaming a warning at me, so I still and look back at him in time to see him rise, buttoning up his suit jacket.

  “I’m afraid I have a prior engagement tonight that I won’t be missing, so we must hurry this along. You have a choice, Spider. Kill me and end this like I know you want to, have been ordered to by that fool Donald...or save her and let me go free.” He shrugs, then smiles a shark-like grin. “Your choice.”

  “How about I do both?” I counter with my own smirk.

  Just then I hear a click, an unmistakable one. Freezing, I turn my head slowly to see Nadia, she doesn’t cry or scream or struggle, just stares at me, her eyes telling me to do it. To kill him, to finish the mission we started...but how can I?

  I didn’t notice it before, stupid of me...there, around her neck, is a bomb. It’s high tech, new, a dead man’s switch. I look back at the man to see him holding the trigger. If I shoot him, it sets off the bomb and she dies, but even if I don’t, he could still set it off...I hesitate then, torn between duty and love.

  “It has a range or forty meters before it simply disarms. Let me get that far away and she lives. Shoot me and she dies,” he explains.

  “How do I know you won’t press it anyway as soon as you’re out of eyesight?” I almost growl.

  “You don’t,” he grins, “but it’s better odds than killing me.”

  I glance back at her to see her still strong, still sure of me. She wants me to kill him, even if it means her death, she has accepted this...but I haven’t. I can’t. I can’t watch someone else I care for die and do nothing, helpless to stop it. I simply can’t.

  I drop the gun, the barrel pointing towards the floor, and shake my head at her, turning to face him again as he grins. “Good choice. I’m betting I will be seeing you both again before this is through, Spider.” He looks at Nadia and winks. “It was nice to meet you, Nadia, I’m sorry our dinner was ruined by business. Oh, and the dress was quite lovely on you. Keep it, I believe it’s still on your chair.” He turns and starts to walk away, and I have to fight my instincts to not fire, to not give chase.

  “Oh, and give my regards to Donald, won’t you?” He turns, sayin
g this from the door.

  As soon as he’s out of view, I rip her from the bindings, and she cries out through the gag as I yank her to sitting position and tug at the collar, trying to get it off. Never trust a man like him to keep his word, not ever.

  I find the disengagement switch just as the light on it flashes from green to red. Wrenching it from her neck, I toss it as far as I can before rolling us both to the other side of the table and tipping it to create a barrier between us and the explosion.

  It rocks through the room, throwing us and the table into the far wall with the blast. I cover her as best as I can as she screams into my chest, and then I feel ashes rain down on my back from debris, hitting me and cutting my skin, so I curl around her tighter and wait for it to end, my ears ringing.

  When it goes silent, I lift my head and peek over the table to see the whole wall into entryway gone, the floor caved in and the stairs nearly destroyed. Fuck, that was some bomb. Looking back down, I see Nadia’s eyes scrunched closed with panic on her face as she grips me to her.

  “Brat, it’s okay,” I soothe her, probably overloud, but I can’t hear.

  I rip off the gag and toss it away. She works her mouth, wetting it as her lashes flick open and she stares up at me with scared eyes...it soon changes to need, and I feel it too. Covering her body again, I kiss her quickly as I trace my hands across her form, looking for anything he could have hurt. She gasps when I touch her ribs, and I make a mental note, but other than that it seems to be all superficial cuts, painful, but not life threatening.

  Pulling away from her mouth, I stroke her cheek. “Are you okay?”

  “I knew you would come,” she says, her eyes focused on me. “The others?” she gasps, and I shush her.

  “Are safe, I made sure of it. I killed all of the men and let the girls go.” I smile down at her. This girl just faced a madman and a bomb, but she’s more bothered about other people than herself. Crazy, wild girl.

  I pull her to her feet and rip my shirt off and cover her with it. “We need to get out of here before he sends anyone else after us.” She nods and grabs hold of my hand as I pull her from the wreck of the table. When she gets her first glimpse of the destruction, she laughs.

  “Ugly fucking house anyway,” she mutters then turns to me, anger on her face. “Why the fuck didn’t you shoot him?”

  Rolling my eyes, I twine our hands. “There was the problem of the bomb, not to worry, he’s running scared now. We know who he is and it’s only a matter of time before we find him. He knows that.”

  She tugs me to a stop, indignation flaring in her eyes. “But we could have ended this!” she screams.

  I get right into her face, narrowing my gaze. “Not on the price of your life, never. So shut your mouth, Brat, unless you want me to drop you at home and leave you there while I hunt him down?”

  She snaps her mouth shut, but narrows her eyes on me. No doubt we will fight about this later, I can’t wait. “Where are we going now?”

  “Donald first, I sent him all the information and he clearly knew him. I need to know how and get a name, if possible. Then, we hunt this man down and all the buyers of the girls—we might find Alena then,” I explain, and that gets her moving. I have to throw her over the hole in the floor and leap across it myself to get to the front door.

  I go out first but it’s empty, abandoned. It doesn’t mean he won’t be back though, so I grip her tightly and pull her out of the open gate and down the street to where I parked my car. As we’re walking towards it, I look down at her.

  “He was right, that dress was amazing, too bad it had to burn,” I tease, and she laughs.

  Clicking my keys to unlock the car, I hear it too late. Another explosion rocks the world as my car explodes. We are thrown clear, and I don’t have the chance to grab her as we both smash into the road.

  My body isn’t responding. I can feel the heat of the flames from the explosion, my eyes locked open and staring at Nadia’s twisted form where she lies not feet away, my hand outstretched towards her, but I can’t move.

  Darkness encroaches, but I try to fight it, have to protect her...save her...but it’s too strong. I fall into the abyss with her name on my lips.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Nadia

  Groaning, I open my eyes to see the world is slanted and blurry. Blinking again, I turn my head and moan in pain. The ceiling is white and…light? Wasn’t it dark? Where am I? What happened?

  The explosion.

  Keanu!

  I sit bolt upright, then grip my head as agony slices through it, a hand lands on my bare shoulder and I jerk forward, smashing my fist out, but he grips it with a friendly smile—Donald.

  He’s crouching next to his sofa, because I’m in his apartment. How did I get here?

  “Nadia, it’s okay, do you know where you are? Who am I?” he questions, patting my fist gently.

  “I, erm, you’re Donald,” I croak and cough, unable to catch my breath. He grabs a cup of water from behind him and holds it to my lips.

  “Sip it,” he orders, so I do, and when the ashy, torched feeling of my throat disappears, I try again.

  “The explosion, how did we get here? Where’s Keanu? Is he okay?” I ask, trying to get to my feet to find him, but Donald holds me down with one hand.

  “Shh, don’t move too much, we don’t know if you hurt anything else. Keanu is okay, he’s also passed out.”

  “No he’s not,” comes a familiar dark voice, and my head jerks up to see Keanu behind him.

  His hair is mussed, filled with ash and bits of wood, his face smudged with black, cut and covered in blood. His trousers are torn and hanging in tatters, painted in blood and ash, but he has never looked so good. He smiles at me softly, melting those artic eyes. “Hi, Brat.” He looks at Donald. “Though I concur, how are we here?” he inquires with a frown.

  Donald smirks at me and then gets to his feet, sitting down heavily in the other chair as Keanu remains standing. I want to go to him, but I heed Donald’s warning and stay seated.

  “I traced the IP you sent the information from, you aren’t the only clever one. I thought I was so smart until I realised you had already sent me the address. You had gone dark and I was worried, so you can understand my surprise when I arrived to find you both lying in the street, meters from a burning car.” He arches his eyebrows. “Care to fill me in?”

  “He said you knew him,” I start, and Donald looks at me in confusion, so I shut my mouth and let Keanu explain what’s happened before he also adds the same. “He did say he knew you, he said ‘send Donald my regards.’”

  “Description?” Donald queries. “Though he could have changed his face,” he muses.

  “Tall, six foot four, blond hair, freckled face, green eyes, a slight scar above his lips.” I see the moment recognition hits his face and Keanu must as well. “Who is he?”

  “He sounds familiar, but it’s impossible,” Donald whispers, shocked, the only time I’ve seen this man ruffled.

  Licking my dry lips, I lean forward again to grab the water from the coffee table, but my eyes catch on something red under the glass. Changing direction, I slip my hand into the gap of the modern table and pull it out, realising it’s a photograph.

  Of a red-haired girl...the same red-haired girl…with a matching St. Christopher’s necklace.

  I shoot to my feet and hold it out. “Who is this?” I ask, and they both turn to me.

  Donald watches me in annoyance. “Put that back.”

  “Who is she?” I demand, waving it around. “Tell me!”

  He sits back, frowning at me. “Her name is Amelia.”

  “How do you know her?” I press, and he grits his teeth. “That’s her brother, isn’t it? I saw this same photograph in his drawer of her.”

  He gets to his feet slowly. “Are you sure? You sure it’s her brother?”

  I nod and his eyes widen. “Who is he?” Keanu growls.

  “Someone I long thought dead...�
� He trails off. “Amelia, fuck, she can’t know. It will kill her.”

  “Why?” I question, confused now.

  He looks at me with regret filled eyes. “Because she blames me for his death, if he’s alive and behind these attacks...” He shakes his head and waves it away. “I will deal with him. For now, Keanu, I want you tracking down that list of buyers. Take them out and escort the girls home. We will help them in any way we can. Let’s rattle them.”

  Keanu nods and turns to me. “Come on, Brat.” He holds out his hand and I drop the photo on the table to take it when Donald interrupts.

  “Not her,” he orders, and we both look at him. He glances between us, a gleam in his eyes. “Keanu, we both knew this day would come. She knows too much, he captured her once, if he had more time, he might have cracked her. We can’t risk our people, our business.”

  Keanu blanches, the only time I’ve seen him look at Donald with anything but respect. “Don’t ask me to.”

  The man in question sighs and stares at me. “I’m sorry, Nadia, I have to.” He glances at Keanu. “Kill her.”

  My eyes widen as I swing my gaze between them. “Why?” I whisper. “I helped you! I did everything to help! Why would I tattle on you?”

  “It’s business,” Donald states, sounding so much like that man tonight, Elijah.

  “Bull fucking shit,” I snap. “This is personal, why?”

  “An order is an order, Spider,” he snaps, ignoring me, and we both turn to Keanu.

  He has a gun in his hands now, staring at it before he slowly lifts it and aims it at me, his eyes cold. He’s gone to his place, the one where he can kill...but how could he? I stare at him, heartbroken. After everything we have been through, does he really think I would betray him?

  But this is his choice, there is no escaping him or the death he wields, I knew this when I got involved and chose to love him.

  I step closer, pressing my forehead to the barrel as I stare into his eyes. Accepting whatever decision he makes, my life is in his hands. We both knew this day would come when we clashed, one of us will die.