The helicopter spun, yawing sideways. The pilot fought for control—lost it.
The bird went down hard behind the tree line. A dull crump. Orange fire bloomed through the rain, brief and furious, then swallowed by darkness.
Silence.
Just the rain and the ringing in Shane's ears.
Shane scanned for threats. Bodies littered the barn floor—Konstantin's men, Dimitri's henchmen. And Vince, hand still reaching for the purse that had killed him.
Dimitri was slumped against the wall only a few feet away, blood spreading across his chest. One of Konstantin's men had gotten him in the firefight. He looked at Shane, managed a bloody smile.
"Told you," he rasped. "It wouldn't matter."
Then his eyes went dull and empty.
Shane pulled April to her feet and into his arms. She was shaking, silent tears streaming down her face.
"I've got you," Shane murmured. "You're safe now. It's over."
Shane held his breath until he heard every single teammate check in. When he checked in, he confirmed that April was safe.
"Hurry, people," Gina said. "We need to get the hell out of Dodge." The team was already moving around them and keeping up a steady stream of communication through the comms. Bear checking bodies, taking Dimitri's phone and laptop, and making sure the team left no trace of their presence. Charlie and Ben swept for additional threats inside while Gabe and Waylon covered the grounds outside. Gina and Lach speaking in low voices, comms off.
Kyle approached them. "How is she?"
"I'm okay," April answered. "Kevin?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Is he?—"
"Safe," Kyle said gently. "Everyone's with him. I contacted Arden and she's talking to him right now, telling him his mom and dad are safe and coming home soon."
His dad. Those two words and their truth warmed Shane's chest.
April nodded, sagging against Shane.
Gina crossed the barn, her face grim but satisfied. She picked up the purse from where Shane had dropped it, checked it over. Muddy. Scuffed. But intact.
"Time. Move out, team."
The team moved. Shane started guiding April toward the door.
"You're limping."
"Just my ankle. It's fine."
Before she'd finished speaking, he'd swept her up into his arms and turned her head toward his chest, shielding her from the worst of what was left behind.
The rain had gentled to a steady drizzle. Lightning still flickered along the ridge, but the thunder was distant now, the storm moving east.
They made it to the SUV. April had started shivering somewhere on the way. Shane helped April into the passenger seat, buckled her in, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
He climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, turned the heat up high. April's teeth were chattering, her skin pale in the dashboard lights.
Shane reached over, took her hand. It was ice-cold. He laced his fingers through hers and held on.
"It's over," he said quietly. "You're safe. Kevin's safe. It's over."
April turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were full of grief and exhaustion and something fierce that might have been gratitude or love or both.
"Vince is dead."
