Cory's blood turned to ice.
34
We only want the woman.
Izzy’s heart sank. This wasn't about Andrew at all. He was just the bait.
From the driver's seat, another voice—younger, panicked: "This wasn't the plan. You said we grab her and go. Nobody said anything about?—"
"Shut up." The gunman's hand shook worse now, the weapon wavering against Andrew's temple. "We grab the woman. That's it."
Classic amateur hour. Hired muscle with no real experience, their plan already falling apart. But amateurs with guns were often more dangerous than professionals.
In the van, Andrew squirmed, using the distraction of the argument to work his way toward the open door. His eyes met hers—wide with terror, but also calculating. Even terrified, Andrew was looking for an angle.
The gunman noticed too late. "Hey, stop?—"
Andrew threw himself sideways, tumbling toward the door.
Izzy and Cory moved as one.
The van's driver had jumped out in the chaos, whether to help or flee Izzy didn't know. Not that it mattered. She went low,catching him behind the knees in a classic takedown. He hit the icy ground hard, air whooshing from his lungs. She followed through with an elbow to his solar plexus, ensuring he'd stay down.
Behind her, she heard Cory's impact with the gunman inside the van, the meaty sound of bodies colliding. The confined space would make it brutal—no room to maneuver, just close-quarters violence.
The gun went off, deafening even from outside. The bullet punched through the van's ceiling, and then she heard the distinctive sound of breaking grip—Cory had the gunman's wrist. The weapon clattered across the floor.
Andrew tumbled out of the van onto the snow, still bound, making muffled sounds through the duct tape.
Ten seconds. Maybe less. All four attackers down.
"Clear," Cory said, already producing zip ties from somewhere. How did he always have exactly what they needed?
The attackers were already starting to stir. They needed to move fast.
The first guy who’d come at her was conscious and groaning, cradling his dislocated shoulder.
Cory crouched beside him while she kept watch. "Who hired you?"
"Don't... don't know." The man's face was gray with pain. "Got a call. Five grand each. Grab the woman."
"And then?"
"Never got that far. Payment first, then details." He gestured weakly at the van. "Burner phone in the console."
Cory retrieved it, checking the last number. "Blocked. Of course."
"We can't call this in," Izzy said quietly. "Too many questions we can't answer."
He nodded, already thinking. "We leave them tied up. Anonymous tip to the PD in ten minutes. They'll find four men with illegal weapons, attempted kidnapping gone wrong."
"And Andrew?"
They both looked at her ex, still bound and gagged, eyes wide with terror.
Ugh. She blew out a breath. "We can't let him go—he's a witness and a target."
"Get him in our vehicle," Cory decided. "We'll figure it out on the way."
