A ruse.
I kill the engine and lights, plunging us into a blackness broken only by distant streetlamps at the alley’s entrance. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
Jordan’s hand shoots out to grasp my sleeve. “Where are you going?”
“To end this.”
Her fingers curl with surprising strength for someone subsisting on half a grapefruit. “They’ll kill you.”
I pause at the genuine concern in her voice.
Odd.
We’re strangers. I’m her kidnapper. She should want me to die.
Oh. Right.I guess I did scare her about them taking her, so she must realize she’s safer with me.
I shake off her hand. “They won’t even see me.” I slip out of the car, staying low and creeping into the shadows along the brick wall.
The alley offers plenty of cover. Trash cans, abandoned pallets, and years of accumulated urban debris. I position myself behind a rusted dumpster and wait.
The van materializes at the alley’s entrance, headlights slicing through the darkness. The vehicle pauses, the driver clearly wary of the obvious deception.
Smart.
But not smart enough to leave.
The vehicle inches forward, stopping thirty yards from my Audi. With the engine idling, the side door slides open, and three figures emerge, their weapons drawn.
The driver stays behind the wheel. One man remains by the van to cover the others. The last two advance.
Perfect.
When they’re halfway to the sedan, I move.
The one hanging back is my previous meat shield. And first target.
Silent as shadow, I slip behind him and wrap my arm around his throat.
I give one sharp twist, snapping his neck with a wet crack. Then I lower him to the ground without a sound and take his gun.
Killing a man is easy as breathing. I don’t even think about the weight of death anymore.
The other two men continue their pursuit, oblivious to their comrade’s fate.
Plenty of time for me to draw my gun, aim, and fire twice.
The first shot hits one man in the back of the head. He drops instantly.
The second bullet catches the other in the shoulder as he angles toward the bang, the force spinning him halfway around before he falls with a shout.
The driver throws the van into reverse.
Switching hands instead of turning, I fire three consecutive shots through the windshield. Center mass.
The van jerks to a halt, horn blaring as the driver slumps over the steering wheel.
Four down, including the one outside Jordan’s apartment. One alive.
