Britta screamed, falling, and as she did, Emberly slammed her cuffs against her body, snapped them off, grabbed up the pepper spray, and deployed it, right into the eyes of her captors.
Madeline ducked and peeled off, also snapping her cuffs—clearly the Bratva needed to update their equipment—and scampered behind a stack of pallets.
Coughing, Boris palmed his gun.
Emberly dove for Britta, hauling her up.“Run!”
But—aw,Britta tripped again, her ankle clearly turned in the fall.And Boris was shooting, still blinded.
Tomas, however, had come out last, the spray missing him, and now he also pulled a gun.“Stop, Emberly.”
She grabbed up Britta, stepped in front of her.“Let us go, Tomas.I promise you, we’ll meet again.”
He shook his head.“I am so tired of you Black Swans.”
Then he pulled the trigger.
* * *
His ears rang.
Steinbeck rolled out from behind the overturned table where he’d leaped after Emberly’s warning.
Seeing her had stopped him flat.Probably saved his life, really.
As for the others still catching up, he’d shouted “Grenade!”just in case and curled into a ball, covered his ears, protected his head.
The grenade had exploded.A flash-bang.He’d stayed down, eyes closed, and when he rose, he spotted Colt and Tate appearing from the back.
“I think they took the president’s daughter.”He headed toward the entrance, his brain still rolling over?—
What was Emberly doing here?
He stopped at the entrance to the back hallway, then rolled out.“Clear.”
Colt and Tate filed behind him.
“Blood,” said Colt, and Stein looked down to see drips and then a swath on a wall on the lower landing.The pungent odor of the smoke bombs and the acrid stink of gunpowder burned the air.
A gunshot echoed up the steps, a scream in its wake.
Stein motioned down and took point.Hit the first landing, peeked over.“Clear.”
He headed to the next, and did the same, all the way to the bottom.
A shot popped and he hit the wall.
Another scream and he glanced at Colt, Tate.They nodded and he edged out.
Two bodies lay crumpled on the concrete floor of the parking garage.More shots and he spotted a handful of men in position behind pallets, a couple barrels.
The gunshots had popped from behind a truck.
His gaze fell on a man in a suit, and his jaw tightened.“Tomas, eleven o’clock, behind those barrels.”
A bullet pinged off the doorframe, and he turned, spotted a security officer—clearly not, butwhatever—hunkered down behind the loading platform.
Stein ducked back inside, glanced at Colt.“People down near the truck.Looks like building security, but my guess is that they’re with the Bratva.”
