That’s all I need.
Mine is out before he clears leather, the weight familiar and steady in my hand. I level it at his chest, and hear another clickbehind me. Nikolai. His gun comes up, angled at one of Irina’s men.
That’s all it takes.
In a heartbeat, the quiet tarmac turns into a standoff. Every man on her side has a gun in hand now. The captain on the stairs freezes. One of the crew ducks back inside the plane. The air feels wired, ready to snap at the smallest mistake.
Irina doesn’t flinch. She looks from my gun, to her men, then back to my face. Slowly, like she’s bored, she reaches into her coat.
Every muscle in my body tightens.
“Easy,” I say.
She brings her hand out with her own gun and lifts it, smooth as a rehearsal, until it points directly at my heart.
“Do you really think I came here to talk?” she asks.
The rest of the world narrows. I can hear my own pulse in my ears. One wrong move and there will be bodies all over this concrete. Nikolai’s stance beside me shifts just enough to tell me he’s ready to shoot or die. For a second, it’s almost funny. We have done a lifetime of violence together. It might all end here in a parking lot with my mother.
“I told you,” she says. “Two days. No more. You brought them to me instead. Convenient.”
“You pull that trigger,” I say quietly, “and half your crew dies before they hit the ground.”
She shrugs. “Half is still better than what I lose if that drive stays missing.”
Her finger is resting near the trigger now. Not on it, but close. The man in front of Nikolai shifts his stance. I adjust my aim a hair, keeping Irina in my sights.
The wind gusts hard. Somewhere behind me, metal rattles on the boarding stairs. No one moves.
“This is how you want it to end?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. There is no hesitation. “With me winning.”
She starts to tighten her finger.
“Stop!”
The shout cuts across the tarmac, high and sharp.
Every head turns. The sound of it hits me like a slap. I know that voice.
Bella is running toward us from the terminal, hair whipping around her face. She doesn’t stop at the line where any sane person would. She keeps coming, sneakers slapping the concrete, breathing hard.
“Stop, please!” she yells again.
“Bella, go back inside,” I shout. My voice comes out harsher than I intend. “It’s not safe, go back now.”
She doesn’t listen. Of course she doesn’t listen. She comes all the way up to me, close enough that I can reach out and grab her if I let go of the gun. Her chest is heaving. There is fear in her eyes, but she’s not backing down. Somewhere behind her, in the doorway, I see a small shape and a flash of blonde. Lily, held back by someone inside. Selene, probably. Watching.
Irina lifts one brow, amused. “You brought your mistress to a gunfight,” she says. “How romantic.”
Bella ignores her. She looks at me first, then at the gun in my hand, then at the one in Irina’s.
“I know where the drive is,” she says.
I stare at Bella, my heart pounding against my ribs. “What did you say?” I ask.
Her breathing is still rough, but her voice is clear. “I know where it is,” she repeats. “I know where the drive is.”
