Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Oh, god. She knew where the drive was. He’d tossed it in the back after he’d thrown the bag in. She remembered the moment clearly. They’d been rushing to the Jeep and she’d been locking Nate’s car seat when Alfi had told her to be quiet. They’d stood there in the darkness, holding their breaths. After a moment, whatever had spooked Alfi was gone and they’d driven off as quietly as possible.
She’d had the damn thing all along, buried under rattles and diapers and wipes.
How could she use that to get them out?
“You will send my sister over and then we will back off and you can take these three with you,” Fedor commanded.
De Vries’s eyes narrowed. “If you so much as breathe the wrong way, I will kill you. Is that the man who says he knows where the thumb drive that fucking journalist had is?”
Steph kept her mouth shut because she was fairly certain she wasn’t up for as much physical pain as Tucker had been. It wouldn’t help to admit she knew anyway. It would only make Tucker useless to them, and that would get him a sure bullet to the brain.
Fedor put a hand on Tucker’s head. “It is, but you should know he’s hard headed. I tried to get him to tell me. I think he wants to go with the girl.”
“He’ll tell me,” de Vries promised. He eyed Alfi. “And you are merely coming along because I need to give my men someone to torture.”
“Excellent. I always knew I was the pretty one.” Alfi took a deep breath. “But I would leave the doc behind if I was you. She knows nothing and she’ll be more trouble than she’s worth. Let Fedor take her back to her people. Ain’t no one coming after me or the pup there, but they will come after her.”
“I’ve already tried this line of thought on them,” Anya said. “Neither one of us knows shit, but this one doesn’t understand. He is very thick in the head.”
“Do you want me to take another finger, bitch?” de Vries growled.
Fedor’s gun was up and aimed in a heartbeat.
Anya raised a hand, showing him her wrapped right pinkie finger. “He didn’t even get that right, Fe. He left me this one. Fuck you and whatever happens, know you deserve every bit of it. I can’t wait to see what Carter does to you. He’s going to take you apart and eat your intestines.”
She walked toward her brother, her middle finger shoved in the air.
Not broken then. And it was good that Anya had some faith. Steph looked at her friend. “He might pull his intestines out, but Brody would never eat them. He’s a gentleman.”
“Not so much a gentleman that he didn’t knock you up,” Anya replied. “As I’m being held prisoner by the cavemen, all I think of is the good thing that will come out of this is Brody will pull his head out of asshole and man up, as you Americans say.”
“Do the women ever shut up? And who the hell is Carter?” de Vries asked.
“He’s the man who’s going to kick your arse, as we say Down Under,” Alfi replied.
Fedor’s group closed ranks around Anya as she made it to their side. Anya put her hand on her brother’s arm before reaching for Steph.
“Come along. He’s not going to let them take any of you,” Anya whispered. “He never was. Now he will kill them all and we need to take cover.”
Fedor’s eyes never left the other team, but his lips curled in a way that let Steph know he’d heard his sister and was happy she knew him so well.
He hadn’t meant to let them go?
“Bring over the younger one,” de Vries commanded. “Something about him is familiar to me.”
“I think perhaps I will keep them to ensure that we are allowed to leave this place,” Fedor replied. “When I know where this drive thing is, we can talk again.”
“Shadrova,” de Vries yelled.
The guns came up and that was the moment that Steph heard something she didn’t expect. A low, familiar baseline wailed from the speakers on the walls.
Everyone froze, looking around, trying to figure out what was going on.
Was that Guns N’ Roses?
“You see, that’s where you assholes always go wrong.” Ian Taggart strode out from behind one of the islands of crates awaiting transportation. “You got no style. You need a theme song.”
The men seemed to move in perfect accord, all guns trained on the new guy. Taggart was a massive presence wearing all black, a Kevlar vest over his big chest. And he wasn’t alone. Li O’Donnell was right beside him dressed exactly like his boss and friend.
“Don’t take him too seriously. I’m pretty sure he stole those lines from a kid’s movie. And I thought ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’ was your theme song,” Li mentioned casually as he carried a big-ass gun like he meant it. “Isn’t this ‘Paradise City’?”