“Gunshot wound to the right side. Through and through, I think. Dislocated shoulder. Possible concussion.” I list my injuries like I’m reading a grocery list. “Nothing that matters right now.”
The leather on the steering wheel squeaks under Pavel’s grip. “We’re going to get her back. Those bastards are going to pay for this.”
The red dot on the screen stops moving. An abandoned warehouse, according to the map. Classic Bratva move. Find somewhere isolated and use it until it gets too hot, then burn it down and move on.
Pavel parks three blocks away, and we approach on foot. Every step sends a fresh wave of agony through my side, but I grit my teeth and keep moving. I’ve survived worse. I’ll survive this.
The warehouse is a hulking structure of rusted metal and broken windows. Two men stand guard at the main entrance, smoking cigarettes and looking bored. They clearly don’t expect anyone to follow this quickly.
That’s their first mistake.
Pavel and I split up without a word as years of training take over. He circles around to the back while I stay low and approach from the side. My dress shoes aren’t ideal for stealth, but I’ve learned to move quietly in worse conditions. The guards never see me coming.
I take the first one out with a knife to the throat, quick and silent. The second one turns at the sound of his partner’s body hitting the ground, and I put a bullet between his eyes before he can raise his weapon.
Pavel appears at my side a moment later with blood spatters his sleeve. Not his own.
“Rear entrance is clear. Two more guards down.”
“How many inside?”
“Unknown. But we don’t have time for recon.”
He’s right. Every second we waste is another second they have to hurt her.
We breach the front entrance together. The interior is a maze of shipping containers and industrial equipment, lit by flickering fluorescent lights. The place smells like rust and motor oil. Voices echo from somewhere deeper inside, but they’re speaking too fast for me to make out what they’re saying.
We move fast and quietly. The first two guards we encounter are playing cards at a folding table. They die before the deck hits the ground. Another three wait at a checkpoint near the center of the warehouse with assault rifles slung across their chests.
Pavel takes the left. I take the right. We fire in unison.
Two drop immediately. The third manages to get off a shot that goes wide before my second bullet finds his chest. He falls backward and crashes into a stack of empty pallets.
The gunfire echoes through the warehouse. No more element of surprise.
Men start pouring out from behind containers, shouting, and suddenly, we’re in a full-on firefight. Muzzle flashes strobe in the darkness. Bullets ping off metal. Someone screams.
I duck behind a forklift as rounds pepper the space where I was standing. My side is on fire, and my vision keeps trying to double, but I force myself to focus. Breathe. Aim. Fire.
A man rounds the corner of a shipping container. I put two rounds in his chest before he can level his weapon. Another appears behind him, and I drop him with a headshot.
Pavel is somewhere to my right, judging by the gunfire. He’s holding his own.
I push forward, using the containers for cover. A bullet grazes my arm, tearing through the fabric of my jacket and leaving a burning stripe across my bicep. I barely feel it. Another round whistles past my ear so close I feel the heat.
Three more men emerge from a doorway ahead. I fire until my magazine runs dry, then drop behind cover to reload. My fingers are slick with blood, making the motion clumsy. I nearly drop the fresh magazine twice before slamming it home.
When I pop back up, two of the three are down. The third is running.
I let him go. He’s running away from where Kirsten’s tracker shows her location. He doesn’t matter.
Then I hear her.
“Menlow!”
Kirsten’s voice, high and frightened, coming from somewhere to my left. I abandon all caution and run toward it, leaving Pavel to cover my back. My ribs protest with every stride. Blood drips steadily from my side, leaving a trail on the concrete floor.
I round a corner and find them.
