When I unzip my fly, his gaze drifts to my belly button. There it is, the distraction I was waiting for.
Taking a deep breath, I snatch the corkscrew, swivel, and reach high.
“Huh-yuh!” I force the metal deep into his neck, let go, then race out the door.
“Cunt, I am coming for you.” Too close behind, his angry voice sends a chill down my spine.
Dammit, he’s not dead.
Skipping the closest closed doors, I bound down the stairs. Behind me, more animal than human, Ledbetter roars, all pretense of politeness gone.
“When I find you, you beeech, you will wish I had killed you. I will cut you open and f-”
Thunderous heartbeats in my ears mask his awful threats. Grateful for the auditory reprieve, I reach the bottom floor, then stop.
Where the hell is the exit?
Tossing a mental coin, I turn right and a few steps later, cannot believe my luck. In front of me lies the dining area. My feet race past the buffet table and the coffee maker to the courtyard.
As armed guards shout and exit the bunker, I raise my arms in surrender only to be grabbed from behind.
“This way.” Ghost, the millennial from earlier in the evening, covers my mouth and tugs me into the shadows.
Chapter 25
“A wolf is no less a wolf because he’s dressed in sheepskin, and the devil is no less the devil because he’s dressed as an angel.” Lecrae
Axel
With me and my pals in the storage area, the bakery truck rattles to a stop at the guardhouse beside the iron gate. While the young Belarusian rolls down his window, I stick my rifle barrel through one of the many rust holes and push it through the thin cushion until I reach flesh.
The kid swallows hard and glances in the rearview mirror as he speaks with the sentry. After a few more pleasantries, the armed man stiffens, grips his AK-47, and swivels his head. I’m guessing like me, he senses the teen’s nervousness.
To remind our driver what might happen if he fucks up, I shove my gun’s metal tip further into his back. I’d hate to shoot him, but I may have no choice. My wife’s life comes first.
Those of us in the box seats let out our collective breaths when the vehicle lurches forward. Twenty seconds later, our Trojan horse stops inside the compound.
One weapons check later, the door swings out. We grab the delivery boy, disarm a surprised soldier, then usher them into the kitchen.
Between the sink and the stove, an aproned chef raises his cleaver but drops it when Slate places a pistol to his ear.
While Rho and Hunt bind the prisoners, I investigate the disturbance in the dining area.
Gwen?As my brain catches up with the scene, my barefoot wife races outside with a furious Ledbetter in pursuit.
Face contorted, blood gushing from his neck, he screams, “You will pay for this, bitch.”
Angrier than I’ve ever been, I jump in front of him. “Do not move, motherfucker.”
The arms dealer who had the audacity to take my wife shifts on his heels and narrows his reptilian gaze.
That’s right, ya moron. Give me an excuse to blow you away.Mindless with rage, I’m about to squeeze the trigger and rid the world of one of its worst scumbags.
Then, Lucky shouts, “Don’t hand him an easy out, mate.”
True. Years in jail would be far worse for a guy like him. Lowering my rifle, I spit at the asshole’s feet. “Put him in the truck. I’m going for Gwen.”
Gun forward, I trot through the egress, step onto the paver stones, and my heart sinks.
