“What do you want in return?” Russ asked, walking in her direction.
“I want their lives. I want you to let them go right now,” Liz said. “That’s all.”
“You’ll do whatever I want? Whatever Coercion Ten asks you to do?”
Nodding, she glanced at Mitch then exhaled a wobbly breath. “Yes. Whatever you want.”
Russ shoved her back into Slugger’s arms. “Keep hold of her. If you can’t, I’ll find me somebody who can.”
Slugger grabbed her wrist, yanking her to the other end of the counter. Then jabbed his gun against her ribs.
Mitch felt the boil of his blood, but he remained even-keeled as he stared at the thug. “You hurt her, it’s not going to be pretty when I get my hands on you.”
“Agent Granger speaks.” Russ stepped in front of Mitch. “No one’s going to tell him what to do, because he’s the most dangerous kind of fighter you can face. One of them who thinks on the fly. Changes with the wind. Looks you in the eye and calculates how he’ll take you down. How long it’ll take.”
Mitch stared straight ahead. The man was an ass, but he was right about one thing—when the time was right, Mitch planned to take him down hard and fast.
“Tell me, Agent Granger, are you going to miss the men on your team? Maybe they died fast. Didn’t have time to feel the pain. Didn’t have time to realize you’d still be alive when they were dead.” Russ laughed.
Mitch fought to ignore the anger building inside him. If he moved, no telling what the thug holding Liz might do on pure reflex. No telling if he’d be able to take another breath.
“Better them than you, right?” Russ goaded. “You’re better off anyhow. One of them might have betrayed you just like Keith here.”
Mitch heard something in the man’s tone that signaled he was working himself into a self-centered, egotistical CT attitude. Maybe a duel of words would push him over the edge. Anything might happen then.
“I don’t put much stock in Keith’s judgment,” Mitch chose his words carefully. “After all, he followed you. And you’re nothing but a two-bit, spineless traitor. One who slithers like a snake from one pile of money to the next.”
“If I’m a snake, I’m one to be watched.” Russ raised his voice. “’Cause I’ve got one hell of a set of fangs.”
“Is that what you call that stripe up your back?” Mitch spit in his direction again. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”
“Hey, boss.” The long-necked thug in the living room waved his arm to get Russ’s attention as he looked through the telescope beside the doorway to the deck. “I got two…three men swimming in from where you blew up that boat.”
“Guess we’re tougher than you thought,” Mitch said. “Looks like you’re gonna lose that million-dollar bet.”
Russ quickstepped closer and knocked him upside the head with the butt of his gun, then lowered the barrel and pulled the trigger. Mitch fell. That wasn’t what he’d hoped would happen.
As Liz screamed, his vision blurred, saw her fighting Slugger’s hold on her wrist.
The burn in his shoulder hit him more than the pain. He’d been shot before, but this one was different. Packed a wallop, but from the feel of the wound, the bullet had traveled straight through. He didn’t need to see the blood pouring from his body; he could feel the warmth as it saturated his chest, oozed between his skin and the Neoprene.
Liz clawed at the thug’s face until he slammed her across the room. Rushing to her feet she ran toward Mitch, grabbing dish towels from the counter, but the thug wrapped his arm around her and hauled her against him.
“Get her to the raft before those three agents make it to the beach,” Russ ordered. “I’ll be there in a minute. Once we get to the ranch she won’t be so vocal.”
Fighting with everything she had, Liz grabbed hold of the doorframe, the doorknob. But Slugger hoisted her on his shoulder and walked out the door.
“Cut me loose. Let me help Mitch.” Drake pushed to get past the man guarding him. “If he bleeds out, you’re not going to have any leverage against her.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Russ said. “I’ve decided Agent Granger is too dangerous a man to keep around anyhow.”
Drake charged Long-Neck and knocked him to the floor. Wrestled the man’s gun free. Then shoved Long-Neck into the waiting arms of the wounded perimeter guy who incapacitated the thug with one quick down chop. Drake rolled and jumped to his feet.
“Drop the gun, Russ.” Drake steadied the gun in his handcuffed hands and stepped closer.
Slowly, Russ smiled. “You talk awful tough for a man out of his prime.”
“Out of my prime? I’ve just started cleaning up all the dirt in the world. You’re one of many to come.” A nonnegotiable stare accented Drake’s furious expression. “Now, drop the gun. Or I’ll drop it for you.”
