by Trish Loye
“I wasn’t told this.”
She played her part even though she wanted to crow with triumph, so she gave the guard a haughty look and arched a brow. “Why would he consult with you?”
The man practically snarled. “Five minutes.” He opened the door.
She stepped inside, not liking that she left an armed guard at her back, but unable to see a better way at the moment. Besides, when Ryan showed up, he could take care of him. Her only priority was to secure that list of names before Petrenko actually made it to the embassy.
The room looked like a rich man’s study, with heavy wood and leather furniture, bookshelves, and even a fake fireplace with pristine birch logs laying in it. She half expected Tony to be smoking a pipe in one of the wingback chairs rather than standing and staring out the window.
“Hello, Tony,” she said to the man who’d held her hostage this afternoon. “Nice party.”
He spun toward her. “How—” His lips compressed. “They managed to find you in time. I should have known when the team’s chatter went quiet.” He smiled, not a reaction she’d hoped for. “What is it you intend to do?” he asked. “I’m in the Russian Embassy, under guard. You acted impulsively again, didn’t you? It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long in this game.”
She ignored his taunt. “This has gone far enough, Tony. Give me the drive with the names.” She didn’t think he’d hand them over, but if she could do this quietly then she would.
His lip curled and she knew it wouldn’t be quiet.
“And you’ll what?” He laughed. “Let me go? Leave me with the Russians? You—”
She struck hard, with her fist hitting his throat. He bent over, grabbed it with both hands, choking. She grabbed the sides of his head and slammed her knee into his face. He thudded to his knees; his one hand flung out and hit a side table with a vase. It crashed to the floor.
Shit. She turned to the door just as it burst open. The guard had his weapon out and sighted on her. She dove to the side. Bullets cut through the air and slammed into the wall behind her, sending bits of drywall flying. Everything had just gone to hell.
“Contact. Contact. Contact,” she said into her mic. She crawled behind the desk. “Second room. North hallway. One guard.”
Tony scrambled past the guard and out the door. Fuck.
“Target is on the move,” she said.
“Hold on, one,” Ryan’s voice came. “Almost there.”
Sutton slid her skirt up, revealing the two ceramic knives strapped to her legs. She was a sitting duck as soon as the guard realized she didn’t have a gun. She palmed one knife, ready to throw.
“Come out, suka,” he said. “I will kill you if you don’t.”
“Please don’t shoot,” she said in Russian, holding one hand up above the desk, praying he wouldn’t shoot it. She gripped the knife in her other hand. The guard’s breathing sounded heavy in the room, but it let her locate him.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
She focused on where she heard his voice and shifted her grip on the knife. In one smooth motion, she stood; in the split second she saw him with his weapon, his finger tightening on the trigger, she adjusted her aim and threw. Then she flung herself back to the floor.
A bullet whizzed by her head before she hit the carpet. A heavy thud followed. She peeked around the desk. The guard lay sprawled on his back, her knife embedded in his throat.
She jumped up, yanked her knife from his neck, and wiped it on his shirt before sliding it back into her leg sheath. The guard’s gun went into the little crossbody purse she wore, barely fitting inside. She smoothed her dress, stepped over the body and shut the door behind her.
The music, voices, and general din from the ballroom must have covered the sound of the guard’s shot, because she wasn’t met with a contingent of reinforcements. But she was sure they’d be on their way soon.
Their timeline had just been cut further.
Ryan turned the corner at the far end of the hall and strode toward her. He held out his elbow and she snagged it, falling into step with him. “Problems?” he asked.
“Target got away.”
“And the guard?” Ryan asked.
“His body’s in the study.”
A shout echoed from behind them. Then another in rapid Russian. Someone had probably come to investigate and the body had been found. Neither of them turned; they kept walking, turned a corner, and passed the bathrooms. More people wandered this hall and they blended in easily. The muscles in her back relaxed.
Ryan glanced at her and his lips twitched. “So was it Sutton in the study with a knife?”
She barely suppressed her grin. “This isn’t a game of Clue.”
He patted her arm. “Let’s go find our missing man. Thoughts?”
She tapped her mic. “Zero, has anyone left the building?”
“Negative, alpha one. Only guests entering.”
She turned to Ryan. “He’s still inside. We need to split up again.”
He kept a smile for the people around them, but his gaze hardened. “Look how well that worked last time. Let’s try things my way now.”
He had a point and so she nodded. “I think he’ll head to the second floor.”
“Agreed.” Ryan steered them past the grand staircase and into a narrow hall beyond it. “There’s another set of stairs back here, according to the blueprints.”
They found a narrow spiral staircase at the end of the hall. It must have been what the servants used to get around. The mansion was part maze and part mystery castle, with back staircases and servant halls. At the top of the stairs, Ryan paused, peeking into the hallway before he motioned her after him.
She handed him the guard’s weapon. “It’s only got four rounds left but it’s better than nothing.”
“What about you?”
She hiked up her skirt and pulled out both knives, holding one to throw and one to fight with. “I’m good.”
Ryan’s gaze had turned appreciative and lingered on her legs while she’d armed herself. “Jesus, you are so fucking hot.”
Her insides warmed but she forced herself to frown. “Focus.”
He gave a low laugh that kindled the warmth into flames, as if he knew what he did to her with just a look.
“Later,” he promised. Then he checked and cleared the weapon before looking back at her. “We’ll clear room by room.” He took point and she backed him up. In one room, a woman looked up from behind a desk where she tapped away on a laptop. Ryan hid the gun by his side.
Sutton giggled and stumbled into Ryan while she kept her knives hidden. Ryan caught her with a smile. “Sorry.” Sutton slurred the word to the woman. “Looking for some privacy with my man.” The woman’s face pinched with disapproval and waved them out. Sutton gave her an exaggerated smile with another giggle, before shutting the door.
Ryan raised his eyebrows at her.
She shrugged. “Well, now she just thinks we’re looking for a room to hook up in,” she replied to his unspoken question.
“Good thinking.”
“Let’s move.” They continued to search the rooms one by one. Time pressed in on them. Petrenko would be showing up any moment, and security actively searched for intruders now. Twice they had to hide in rooms from a guard passing by.
“Alpha one, alpha two, this is zero. Sitrep.” Lexi’s voice sounded a bit strained over the line.
“Zero, this is two,” Ryan said. “Target still unaccounted for. Still searching the second level.”
“Petrenko incoming. Security is congregating at the main entrance. Locate the target and use the back entrance.”
“Wilco. Alpha one out,” Sutton said. Things were heating up. She didn’t ask to split up and cover more ground. They needed to stick together at this point. “We need to move faster.”
“Agreed.” Ryan moved to the next door, listened, and then shifted to the side before opening it. “Clear.”
She was already at the next door and followed the sa
me routine. They kept moving like that through one hallway and into the next. “Where the hell is this guy?”
Ryan had just paused to listen at a door when his hand went up. She stilled. He held up one finger and caught her gaze. He nodded.
Tony was inside. What they didn’t know was whether he was alone.
Ryan held up three fingers. Then two.
One.
He thrust open the door, his gun up, and moved inside. She stepped in right behind him, her knife up and ready to throw.
Tony stood alone in an office, speaking in Russian to someone on his cell. “I’m telling you, they’re in the fucking embassy.” He stopped and his eyes widened when he saw them. He focused on Ryan’s gun. “Fuck,” he said into the phone. “They’ve found me.”
He hung up. Sutton could see the calculation in his eyes. “I’ll give you the flash drive if you let me go.”
“You’ll give us the flash drive no matter what,” Ryan said in a hard voice. “The only thing that is up to chance is whether you come with us or you die here.”
Frustration twisted Tony’s features into an ugly mask. “I won’t be the one dying today. Security is on its way. You won’t get out of here alive.”
As if to punctuate his statement, shouts and pounding footsteps came up the hall. Sutton locked the door while Ryan held Tony at gunpoint.
“This won’t hold if they come looking,” she warned.
Tony laughed. “You’re both fools, risking your lives for this government, this country. It doesn’t care about you. You’re just tools.”
Ryan struck Tony in the temple with the butt of his gun. Tony crumpled to the floor. Ryan began searching his clothes.
Sutton went to the window. “A straight drop into bushes. A stone wall on one side with barbed wire on top. We’ll be sitting ducks down there.”
Ryan stood. He held a flash drive in his hand. “Got it.” He stuck it in his front pants pocket. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Door or window?”
“I’ll take the door. You go by the window.”
Her mouth dropped open. He was offering to be her distraction. “That’s fucking suicide for you and you know it. What happened to the teamwork you keep spouting about?”
His grin was fierce. “Then we take the door together and we fight our way out.”
She couldn’t help but grin back. Both of them must be insane to be enjoying this, but she never felt more alive than on a mission, especially one with Ryan at her side. “I’ve got an idea.” She tapped her mic. “Zero, this is one.”
“Whisky Tango Foxtrot! Exfil now.” Stress fractured Lexi’s voice.
“We’ve been compromised,” Sutton said coolly. “We need a distraction.”
“Should I set a fire or something?” Lexi asked.
That made Sutton smile. “Unless you’ve got a missile in that van that we don’t know about, a fire won’t be quick enough.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I need you to call my sister.”
“You want me to call your...sister?” The pause held too many questions for Sutton to answer. Even Ryan looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. But she plowed on. She gave Lexi Amelia’s number. “Tell her where I am and to bring everyone she can to the party.”
“I’m on it,” Lexi said. “Zero out.”
“Are you sure?” Ryan said. “Then you’ll have two sets of people after you. We might still—”
The doorknob twisted and then shook. They both froze. Security had reached their room. She slid into place beside Ryan against the wall.
“It’s locked,” someone yelled outside in Russian.
“Find a key,” another voice replied. “We’ve got to clear the whole floor.”
The man cursed and stomped off. They had a few moments’ reprieve.
“It’s now or never,” Ryan said. “If we wait, we’ll be caught here without an escape route.”
“Agreed.”
He pulled her back when she stepped to the door. “We stick together.”
She held his gaze. “You’re not going to get rid of me now.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” He took the lead and gripped the doorknob in one hand and his gun in the other. He looked back at her. She drew a deep breath and centered herself, holding both her knives in a firm, yet loose grasp.
A part of her wanted to stop Ryan from opening the door until she’d told him what was in her heart, in case something happened to her, or God forbid, him. But that wasn’t their way. They couldn’t take the time to deal with emotions—not here, not now. She’d just pray that they’d both come out of this in one piece. But she could do one thing.
She leaned in close and gave him a quick, hard kiss. “I’m ready.”
“Definitely more than a weekend,” he promised. Then his face lost all expression and the SEAL commander took over. “Moving.”
Ryan opened the door and slid into the hallway, leaving the door partly closed so it blocked her from sight. She snarled that he’d put himself in harm’s way alone and yanked the door fully open, her knife up to strike.
The hall was clear.
They didn’t hesitate but raced away from the tiny spiral staircase where, if they were caught, it would mean death and toward the back of the building. Movement behind her made her glance back.
A security guard took aim with a handgun. She shoved Ryan to the side and went the other way. The gun barked and bullets seemed to brush her skin. She staggered. Too close.
Ryan gripped her hand and pulled her forward and around the corner. He leaned back around the corner and fired one shot.
She didn’t even hear the body drop before they were running again. Another guard stepped into the hall ahead of them. He shouted and raised his weapon. Ryan pushed her behind him and lifted his gun. One shot and the guard fell. They ran again. A siren sounded in the distance.
Two shots left. And she only had two knives. They would run out of ammo and weapons long before they made it off this floor.
Shouts alerted them to a group of guards rushing toward them. They ducked into a room and let them pass by before they raced off again. More sirens sounded and they were getting closer.
They ran back into the hall and toward a set of stairs near the other end of the building. Guards, all wearing black, rushed up the steps, pouring into the hall like beefy ants. Sutton skidded to a halt, but it was too late to turn around. The guards had weapons out.
She threw her knife and hit the lead one in the chest. He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. Ryan shot the next two as soon as they exited the stairwell around their comrade. She threw her last knife at the next one and then the fight was on. They had to disarm the guards before they could get a shot off. Four of them down and two left.
She struck hard and fast, kicking one of the soldiers coming out of the stairwell in the chest and launching him back down the steps. Then she pivoted to kick one of the downed guards in the head when he reached for his gun. Ryan had the last guard in a head lock and within seconds dropped the limp body to the ground. He hadn’t held on long enough to kill so they only had seconds before he revived.
Ryan grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the stairs. She followed and they both hopped over the unconscious body of the guard she’d kicked down. They burst onto the first floor and the cacophony of noise struck them almost physically.
Shouts for order and a few screams threaded through the sirens outside. The music from the ballroom had stopped but in its place, people demanded to know what was going on, both in English and Russian. They walked quickly toward the ballroom, following a waiter carrying an empty tray, trying to look inconspicuous.
“No one is allowed to leave!” someone shouted near the front of the mansion.
“Shit,” Ryan said. “That’s not good. They’re searching the guests.”
“Then we’re going to have to make the guests stampede for the door.”
They both looked at each othe
r and nodded. She almost smiled. They turned and headed back the way the waiter had come from and into the chaos of the large, industrial kitchen. Chefs shouted at waiters, and waiters shouted back, their voices echoing off the pristine white tiled walls and floor and stainless-steel countertops. No one paid them any attention.
Sutton looked around and found what she wanted. Ryan covered her movements as she strode to the nearest wall and yanked on the fire alarm. A screeching siren rang out, freezing everyone where they stood. They all pivoted to stare at her. Sprinklers in the ceiling burst open, raining onto everyone and everything.
A heavyset man in the middle of the room bellowed and started shouting orders to cover up the food. Sutton smiled while Ryan outright laughed. They ran out of the kitchen before they got drenched and used a narrow wait-staff corridor heading to the ballroom. The fire alarm continued to blare, almost covering up the noise of the guests ahead.
Ryan cracked the swinging door into the back of the ballroom and peeked through. He gave the all clear signal and strode inside, not pausing until they’d entered the throng of people trying to push their way past the guards. No one wanted to be inside a building with alarms going off.
Especially when police, SWAT, and fire crews could be seen on the street outside with their lights flashing. Overall, the panic level of the crowd was high.
“Almost stampede time,” she murmured.
Ryan somehow caught her words and glanced back at her. “Let’s work our way closer to the front.”
They pushed their way through the crowd until they stood right in the middle of all the glittering, bejeweled guests. Sutton hated to be surrounded like this because it didn’t allow her to move freely, but knew it was their best chance of hiding in plain sight.
A woman screamed behind them. A drone buzzed outside one of the grand floor-to-ceiling windows, dive-bombing toward them. It had a red canister attached below it.
Sutton smiled. Thank you, Lexi. “Bomb!” she yelled as loud as she could.
And the stampede started.
People screamed, ducked, dropped to the floor, pushed to the front of the room, or raced to one of the back doors. Chaos not just reigned; it started a tyrannical dictatorship.
