The engine turns over with a rumble, and I struggle not to give in to the panic punching a hole in my chest. Semyon scrambles into the passenger seat and I shove my laptop at him.
“How good are you with tech?” I ask as I wrap my hands around the wheel.
“I can send email.” His voice trembles. “Is…Elena…?”
“Whiskey? Status report?” I can’t hear anything, and now both cameras are out. “Whiskey!”
Only silence answers me, and I take a deep breath. “Semyon, I’m trusting you with my life. With Elena’s life. With everyone’s lives.” I hold his gaze, and in those pale, bloodshot eyes, I see a lifetime of pain. “I have to get in there. I can shut down the entire security system from inside the mansion. Turn off the power. The cameras. Everything. Give Ryker, Inara, and West a fighting chance. But you have to be me.”
“Y-you?” He shoves the laptop at me. “No. I am not good with computers.”
“All I need you to do is drive. Listen in on comms and be ready to bring the SUV to the back of the building when Ry tells you to. Can you do that?” My heart threatens to beat out of my chest, but if I don’t go in there, they could all die.
Nodding vigorously, he says, “Da. I can drive.”
After we switch seats, he peels out of our parking spot and heads for the mansion. Barreling through the square, he squeals to a stop at the side of the building, and I leap out of the passenger seat, tossing my earbud at him as I go. The tablet’s already tucked into my pack—almost a clone of the one I broke in Kolya’s bathroom—and I race to the building’s back entrance, finding the door kicked in. Ryker. A fire alarm blares, and safety lights flash every few seconds.
I have to get up to Kolya’s office.
As I pass the main stairway, men and women stream by me, some crying, others shouting. I try to blend in, but dressed all in black, my hair covered, my only hope lies in my short stature and confusion. I weave around four women huddled together, find the stairs, and force myself to climb them two at a time, ignoring the pain in my still-swollen knee.
A couple of teenage boys huddle in the stairwell on the second floor, whispering to one another, and I grab one of them by the arms. “Where is Kolya?”
“Up!” he squeaks, his voice in puberty’s cruel grip.
“Anyone with him?”
“A big man go up too.”
My eyes burn. Ryker. If he’s with Kolya…he’s either killing him or dead. With every blink, I see my brother’s body. Ryker’s stricken face as I fell off the balcony days ago. The tears tumbling down his cheek after I told him I loved him.
If Kolya’s hurt him at all…I have to end this. I don’t know where West and Inara are. Elena. The girls. If I fail…Zion’s last wish…
Choking back a sob, I shove the boy up against the wall. “I need access to a computer. Away from Kolya. Where can I find his surveillance room? A server?”
The kid shakes his head. “I do not understand.”
“Cameras. Computers. Security.”
“Basement.”
“Take me there. Now.” Pulling a dart gun from a holster at my hip—Ryker forced me to take a tiny pistol too, but it’s strapped to my ankle as I’ve never fired a shot in my life outside of video games—I aim it at the kid’s head. Maybe he won’t know it’s just a tranquilizer.
“Da.” He hurries back down the stairs, turns right, and then motions me around a corner. A nondescript door at the end of the hall has a broken “Exit”sign over it, and I follow him down another flight until I hear the terrified whispers of at least five or six women and someone shushing them.
“Come out now and we will not kill you,” a heavily accented voice says.
Holding up my hand, I stop the kid from going any further.
“Fuck you.”
West. He’s still alive. Thank God. Taking a quick peek around the corner, I see two of Kolya’s men aiming at a bank of lockers.
Can I really do this? Tranq them? A warning shot ricochets off the wall, and one of the women screams. I have to. These girls…I could have been one of them. This…this is real. This is life and death. And I can fire a tranq gun to fulfill Zion’s last wish. To save a man who flew halfway around the world to help me. And maybe…to save Ryker.
I slip around the corner.One, two, three, four, five.I imagine stroking my fingers over Zion’s bracelet, centering myself. Focusing.
Releasing my breath on a sigh, I squeeze the trigger.
