“Get down,” Simon yelled and pushed Lissette to the floor.
Remy’s team moved in swiftly, weapons raised.
Holly kicked out, knocking Solberg off his feet.
Simon dove for Holly.
However, Gunnar reached her first, grabbed her by her hair and pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple.
Remy’s team surrounded them. The remaining guards shared stunned glances, froze, then slowly lowered their weapons.
This left only Solberg and Gunnar still standing, with Holly between them. Dr. Jeffries was already on the floor with his hands beside his head.
Holly tried to lean her head away. “That fucking hurts.” Suddenly, she spun and slammed her forehead into Gunnar’s.
He released his hold on her long enough for her to knee him in the groin and then throw herself to the side.
Simon stepped in and swung with all his strength, his fist connecting with Gunnar’s nose.
The man staggered backward, blood gushing, his eyes clouding with tears.
Simon hit him again, this time with an uppercut to the jaw. The man fell backward, landing flat on his back.
Simon grabbed the gun out of his hand and stood over the fixer.
Remy’s team had moved in to quickly subdue the other guards. Simon glanced around the space and noted Lissette moving behind Remy.
When Simon turned to Holly, his heart sank.
Solberg had an arm around her neck and a gun pointed at her temple. “If you want to see her alive again, I suggest you produce her parents. No more games.” He backed toward a doorway, his arm firmly around Holly’s neck. “For now, she comes with me.”
Her face was turning red, which set Simon’s blood pounding because he was holding her too tightly.
Then Holly went limp, the weight of her body dropping so fast it pulled Solberg off balance. To keep from falling over, he let go of Holly.
In a split second, Simon brought his hand up and fired.
Solberg’s eyes rounded. He clutched at his chest and fell to the ground, the gun skittering across the floor.
Holly lunged for it, turned and pointed it toward Simon. “Get down!” she yelled.
Simon dropped.
Holly fired.
When he turned, Simon found Gunnar teetering. The knife in his hand dropped, and then he folded like a rag doll and lay still.
A moan sounded from Solberg.
Holly went to him and pressed her hand to his chest. “I should let you die, but we need your testimony.”
Landry hurried to take over, applying pressure to Solberg’s wound.
Simon helped Holly to her feet and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m covered in blood,” she protested.
“As long as it’s not yours, I don’t care.” For a long moment, he held her, the rush of emotions so strong he didn’t trust his voice.
