Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)

by Stylo Fantome

  “Well done, darling! I feel like a proud parent! Took care of one guard down at my end. Shall I finish your guy?” Kingsley called out from behind her.

  “No, no unnecessary kill -”

  “What the fuck is going on up there!?”

  Marc's voice, and from the sound of it, he was dashing up the stairs. The noise wasn't lost on the bodyguard, and he scrambled to his feet, running straight for the staircase. Lily bolted after him, but by the time she reached the stairs, it was in time to see the guard barreling into Marc on the landing. They slammed into a wall and the man went for Marc's rifle. A tug-o-war ensued.

  “Leave it,” Kingsley hissed from behind her. “De Sant can handle himself, we'll be in the way. We've got work to do.”

  He was right. Lily knew he was right. Marc was a big, strong, professional mercenary. He would be able to handle himself. Kingsley jogged to the elevator doors and managed to slide them apart. He jumped in and grabbed a cable, then began to shimmy his way up to the fourth floor.

  Lily froze. The worst thing a person could do in a hostile environment. She knew the rules of engagement, knew what needed to be done. She knew that if it had been her in that stairwell, Kingsley would've continued on with the job, and vice versa. But still. She turned away from him, ignoring him as he called out to her.

  Marc wouldn't leave me in that stairwell.

  She took off like a shot, moving in a dead sprint towards the stairs. She ran through the doorway and didn't even think about it, just launched herself off the top step. Marc was facing her and he let out a swear word before letting go of his gun. He dropped to the floor, and just in time. She had lifted her knees when she jumped and they rammed into the back of the guard, with her full weight behind them.

  The man slammed into the wall, his head bouncing off it in a way that couldn't have been healthy. When she'd made contact, she'd pushed off him, forcing her back and away. She landed on her feet, on the second step up from the landing. She struggled to catch her breath while the guard collapsed. Marc looked at her, his eyebrows raised so high, she could barely see them.

  “Holy shit, remind me to never ever piss you off,” he commented. She nodded.

  “Will do. Now let's move.”

  Kingsley was at the top of the stairs, and he looked just as shocked as Marc.

  “That was quite possibly the most incredible thing I've ever seen, darling,” he told her.

  “I was moving so fast, I figured why not use it. And fuck the elevator, it might open directly into the apartment. There's only one guard left, and two Stankovskis. Let's risk the stairs.”

  Stairs were never fun, especially doubled up the way they were in that building. They had to inch up to a landing, wait to see if there was any movement above them, then inch up another flight. Beyond that, there was a door to a short hall that would lead to the penthouse door. Anyone could be behind either door. Anyone.

  Lily took out her Glock and held it out in front of her.

  “I'll go first,” Marc whispered, locking eyes with each of them. “Then Law, then you. When that entry way is clear, we'll take the penthouse door in the same order.”

  Everyone nodded and got into position. Marc counted to three, then yanked open the door. His gun led the way around the frame, but after barely a second, he shouted that it was all clear. Kingsley went and Lily followed right behind him. The hall was completely empty.

  They lined up in the same manner, and again, Marc went through the door first. But this time there was no call for them to follow behind. There were gun shots, a couple short bursts, then Marc's own return fire.

  “Four shooters! Coming from two rooms on the left side!” he shouted. Kingsley crouched low, took a deep breath, then slid into the room. There were a couple more gun shots.

  “Three shooters left! Do your thing, darling!”

  This is it. This is what you've been waiting for. This is what you've been planning for.

  Lily bolted through the door. Kingsley and Marc immediately opened fire, laying cover for her while she dashed across a large marble foyer. She dropped to her knees and slid into a hallway, coming to a stop at the edge of plush carpeting. She pressed herself flat against a wall and glanced back at them.

  “I'm good! So much for just four guards, huh!? Follow me when it's clear out there!” she shouted. The guys were crouched behind a large, oak armoire, and Marc gave her a nod. Then he yanked a smoke grenade off his vest, pulled the ring, and tossed it at their opponents.

  Lily turned her attention back to the hallway. She pushed herself up so she was standing, then she began sliding along the wall. She'd memorized the blueprints during the previous days and she put everything into place in her mind. Behind the wall at her back was a large kitchen. The hallway opened into a massive living space. On the other side of the kitchen was the master bedroom. There were no other rooms at that end of the house, not even so much as a closet between her and that bedroom.

  Nowhere to hide.

  She was still a little surprised, however, to find someone standing in the middle of the living room.

  “Do you have any idea how much money you have just cost me!? The repairs alone! And that marble was flown here all the way from Italy!”

  Roksana Stankovski looked really pissed off. She also looked exactly as Lily remembered, big hair and all. Only instead of a white dress, the woman had chosen a pair of white leather pants and a matching white leather jacket.

  Who does she think she is, a Bond villain!?

  “I don't think you'll have to worry about repair costs. You should concern yourself more with lawyer fees,” Lily suggested, easing her way further into the room. She kept expecting Stankovski to show his face, but they appeared to be alone. A glance showed her that no one was in the kitchen. He must have holed up in the bedroom.

  “Lawyer fees?” Roksana asked.

  “Oh yeah. You're going to jail, sweetheart. For a long time,” Lily replied, sliding her Glock back into its holster. She wasn't wasting her bullets on this woman.

  “I am not going anywhere. You do not scare me, little girl. I have been in this game much longer than you. I know who you are – I am still waiting for my diamonds,” Roksana hissed. Lily raised her eyebrows.

  “Really? Didn't you hear? I threw them away,” she replied, walking up to the edge of the sunken living room.

  “I do not believe that,” Roksana countered. Lily smiled.

  “You should. I'm the one who threw them away. Ask De Sant, he was there,” she suggested.

  “I have already talked to De Sant about those diamonds. At length. Didn't he tell you about our fabulous weekend together?” the Russian Barbie asked, pouting her lips out while she talked. Lily narrowed her eyes and felt her blood pressure rise.

  “Not really, but I saw the scars. Nice of you to leave a permanent memento,” she said through clenched teeth. Roksana threw back her head and laughed.

  “God, I love them. I can't wait to see them again. Like art, when they're left on such a perfect body like his,” she sighed at the end.

  “I don't think you'll be seeing them again.”

  “I think I'll be seeing them very soon. But I tell you what – if you give me those diamonds, I will kill you quickly. Is very fair,” the blonde insisted.

  “Why do you think I didn't throw them away?” Lily asked as she reached for one of her ammunition holsters on her back. The one that wasn't holding any bullets.

  “For the same reason no one else has given them up willingly. They are worth a lot of money, my dear. A lot of time and effort and struggle. You have caused my husband many a headache. I would like to end them,” Roksana hissed. Lily nodded and pulled the canvas bundle free from its hiding spot.

  “You're right, they were too precious to just throw away,” she agreed, holding the bundle up. Roksana's eyes got big.

  “I knew it, you bitch.”

  “You want them? You can have them.”

  Lily threw the bag, and the way Roksan
a reacted, it was almost comical. The blonde shrieked and stumbled forward, her arms outstretched to catch the bundle.

  Lily rushed forward and caught the other woman across the waist. She didn't slow down, but propelled them across the room. She slammed them into a baby grand piano, then gave Roksana a right hook, straight to her ribs. The other woman gasped and let out a cry, but surprisingly, she didn't go down. Then she shocked Lily more by elbowing her in the side of the face.

  Lily stumbled to the side, and Roksana kicked her in the knee, sending her to the ground. Lily gritted her teeth and grabbed the closest thing to her, a poker out of a stand by the fire place. She swung it around like a bat, but the Russian woman danced out of her reach and grabbed a flower pot, launching it at Lily's head.

  Where the fuck did this woman come from!?

  Lily somersaulted backwards, then jumped to her feet. Roksana had another weapon in her hand, a large porcelain figurine that actually looked quite heavy. She let out a yell and threw it, but Lily jumped to the side and swung the poker, shattering the figurine.

  “You have ruined everything!” Roksana was shrieking, moving slowly down the length of a sideboard that sat behind her. She picked up every item off of it and threw them at Lily, from vases to picture frames to notepads.

  “Your husband is a fucking murderer!” Lily yelled back.

  “He never did anything to you! Just hired you, that is his only mistake!” the other woman yelled. Lily's vision turned red, and she launched the poker like she was throwing a javelin. Roksana leapt back, but not quite quick enough, and the iron rod sliced the side of her face before it was embedded in the wall behind her.

  “He murdered my sister,” Lily growled.

  Roksana lifted a hand to her cheek, and when she pulled it away, there was blood on it. She had a cut, high up on her cheekbone. Half an inch higher, and she would be short one baby blue eye. She stared at the blood on her fingers for a second, then felt around the wound.

  “Murder will be too good for the likes of you. I am going to cut every inch of skin away from your body, all while you're still alive,” she threatened.

  “Oh yeah? You talk a lot, but you sure keep your distance,” Lily pointed out, bouncing around on the balls of her feet. The other woman bent over and pulled off her heeled boots.

  “If you want to get close, it can be arranged. I'm not selective, I like women just as much as I like men. All you had to do was say so.”

  “Alright then, let's dance.”

  Roksana rushed forward, and Lily wasn't even half a step behind. There was a large sofa between them – all white, of course – and Lily jumped onto it, springing over the back. She led with her fist and struck Roksana across the face. The woman went down and Lily didn't hesitate. She grabbed the sideboard and pulled it down with such a force, it splintered down the middle when it landed on top of Roksana.

  But the blonde wasn't slow, either. She rolled out from underneath the wood, grabbed one of the table's legs, and chucked it through the air. Lily was able to block it, but in that moment of distraction, Roksana was on her feet and barreling into her.

  They teeter-tottered across the room, finally falling against the fridge in the kitchen. Roksana was landing blows to Lily's side, hitting the sensitive bruise on her left. Lily grabbed two fistfuls of blonde locks and spun in a tight circle, sending the other woman flying out of her grasp. Chunks of her hair were ripped out in the process, and when they were finally staring at each other, breathing hard, Lily let the blonde strands fall to the floor.

  “You know,” she panted. “I honestly thought that was a weave.”

  “Please. I am all natural,” Roksana spit out.

  “Those tits!? I doubt it.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Not even a little.”

  Roksana yanked open a drawer and Lily barely had time to duck as a meat cleaver was launched at her head. While she crawled around an island that stood between them, she heard footsteps go running towards the bedroom. She cursed under her breath and pulled her own knife out of its sheath, then took off running, as well.

  The bedroom was a disgusting display in opulence. A ridiculously huge, round bed sat in the center of the room, and there was a large fish tank built into the wall behind it. Obviously the happy couple had been trying to make a get away – there was money strewn across the bed and a half filled suitcase sat open on the floor, a trail of clothing leading to another armoire. Roksana was bent over in front of it, digging around in its contents.

  “Just stop!” Lily shouted. “Do you hear those gun shots!? They're not going anywhere. There's no way out. Even if you magically beat me, you have to get through my guys out there. It's over.”

  Roksana spun around, and there was a whistling sound. Before Lily's brain could lock on to what it was, she felt something slice against her bicep. She cried out and lunged to the side, putting the bed between her and the other woman.

  “I do not think it's quite over yet,” Roksana chuckled, her voice heavy and her accent thick. She twitched her hand, and Lily realized she was holding the handle of a whip. It wasn't terribly long, and it was very thin. As Roksana leapt forward and whipped it over her head, Lily realized the thinness also made it very hard to see. She dropped down flat against the ground and heard the leather go whizzing over her head.

  While Roksana jumped onto the bed, Lily wiggled her way underneath it. The whip now gave Roksana three more feet on her reach, with a deadly end to it. Not a good thing.

  What's taking those idiots so long out there!?

  Lily pulled herself up on the other side just as Roksana leapt down. The other woman was screaming in Russian as she bent down, looking under the bed. Lily stared at her, at the whip in her hand, and tried to think of what to do. She'd never trained with a whip before, didn't think Kingsley even owned one. Though surely, the Brit would know how to handle one.

  Kingsley's law: if you can't find your way around something, sometimes the best thing you can do is go through it, darling.

  Roksana was coming back around the bed, still shouting, all while circling the leather above her head. She cracked it once at Lily, but missed. The second time, her aim was better. She was going for the face, but Lily had other plans. She thrust her arm up in front of her head and jumped forward. The leather circled around her forearm, and before Roksana could pull it free, Lily jerked back on it. As the Russian woman came forward, Lily spun into her, slamming her elbow right into the other woman's face.

  Roksana howled and dropped the whip, her hands going to her broken nose. While blood gushed around her fingers, Lily grabbed her arm and spun her around. She kicked the Russian in the back of her legs, sending her to her knees. Then Lily yanked her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together, using the whip to bind her.

  Ironic, isn't it, bitch?

  “Whoa!” a voice called out from the doorway. Lily snapped her head up to find Kingsley standing there.

  “Where the fuck were you!?” she shouted. Roksana began squirming around in front of her, so Lily grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, holding it at an unnatural angle. The woman cried as blood ran down the sides of her face.

  “They were very tenacious, darling. Marc is dispatching the last one right now,” he replied, slowly walking through the room, his eyes wandering over everything. The sound of footsteps echoed through the apartment, and then Marc burst into the room.

  “Nice job, sweetheart. She looks good,” he was panting as he walked up to Roksana. The other woman had finally stopped crying, and she tried to spit on him. Lily pulled harder on her hair.

  “She was tougher than I thought.”

  “Yeah, the living room looks fucked up.”

  “Not as much as her face does.”

  Marc chuckled, then glanced around the room.

  “Where's ...”

  He didn't say the name, but he didn't need to – they all knew who he was talking about.

  “There's the walk in closet, I hav
en't checked it yet,” Lily said. “We need to deal with her, first.”

  While Kingsley stood guard over the closet doors, Marc and Lily tied Roksana to an ornate gold chair. Lily questioned her, asking her about Stankovski, if he was armed, what kind of weapons he would have, but the other woman decided to forget how to speak English. She spit rapid fire Russian at them, growling through her teeth and shaking in her restraints.

  “What a charming woman,” Kingsley laughed, glancing over his shoulder at them.

  “You have no idea,” Marc mumbled.

  Lily stormed over to the closet doors and she whipped out her Glock. She thumbed the safety, making sure it was off, then she racked the slide.

  “I want to end this, now!” she snapped.

  “Princess, maybe take a minute to -”

  “On three.”

  There was no discussion about who would go in first and lay down cover. It was a set of double doors, and Kingsley grabbed one handle while Marc grabbed the other. Lily stood off to the side, at an angle, then nodded her head. Kingsley counted it off, and at the three, the doors were yanked open.

  Lily had a five pound trigger pull on her gun. It felt like time slowed down as the doors swung open, and she contracted the muscles on her index finger, putting more and more pressure on the trigger. She could feel it move. Three pounds of pull. Four pounds of pull. Four and a half …

  Remember, don't hesitate, and when you get there, pull the fucking trigger.

  The closet stood empty. A white light in the ceiling was on, and was glaringly bright. Lily held completely still for a second. Held that four and a half pounds of pressure. Then she relaxed her finger and let her eyes scour the closet. There were white walls and dark wood shelving. No objects on the shelves, and definitely no Bratva Pakhan.

  “He's not here,” she breathed, dropping her arms.

  Marc moved into the closet, his own gun in front of him. She slowly followed after him, but she didn't raise her weapon. There were no other doors, no cabinets, no cupboards. Not even any clothing. Everything was open. There was no one in that room.

  “Where the fuck could he have gone!?” Marc demanded, kicking his foot through some of the shelves.