They were two steps down from the top when Carter, ahead of them, said, “Oh my fucking God.”
A few lurching strides later, and Aidan was at the threshold.
“Shit,” he muttered. Because there were simply no other words.
The hallway was littered with bodies. All of them Ellison’s men. Fox stood, polishing the barrel of his gun on the hem of his shirt, expression almost bored.
“Fox,” Aidan said, stunned. “You’re not dead.”
“Dead?” the Englishman scoffed. “You thought I couldn’t handle this?”
“How many people did you just kill?” Carter asked.
“Eleven? Twelve? Dunno, you ladies ready?”
“Uh…yeah,” Aidan said.
The most dangerous man you’ll ever meet, Candy always described him. Clearly, that wasn’t an exaggeration.
“You okay?” Aidan asked in an undertone as Fox and Carter led them back down the hall.
Tango, shuffling and struggling to keep up, letting Aidan and Ian carry his weight, said, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Jesus Christ, no he wasn’t.
“It’s okay,” Whitney soothed. “We’re leaving. It’s all over now.”
Aidan pushed all his questions aside in the interest of expediency; but when they got out, he was going to have some things to ask Miss Whitney.
They reached the sitting room after what felt like ten years.
Fox turned around and gave them an assessing glance. “Can he move any faster than that?”
“Probably not,” Aidan said through his teeth.
“We–” Fox started.
A man appeared in the sitting room, standing upright and holding an AK.
“Shit,” Aidan said, scrambling for his own gun.
Another man appeared, then another, then…
It was Ghost, and Walsh, and Mercy, and Candy, and Colin.
Holy…
“Kev,” Ghost said, voice booming, heavy with emotion. “You okay, son?”
“Yeah,” Tango lied.
“Is that…?”
“It’s me,” Ian said. “Wonderful to see you too, Mr. Teague,” he said in a mocking tone.
“Aidan?” Ghost asked.
“We’re good, Dad.”
