Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
My head lolled: if Grushin hadn’t been holding me upright, I’d have ragdolled to the floor. But through half-shut eyes, I saw Gennadiy being forced back into the kitchen, bullets plucking at his suit jacket. Grushin’s men pushed forward to finish him. This was the end. No. Please no…
There was a bang behind us, and everyone turned.
The front door was open and sagging on its hinges. And in the doorway was a familiar, disheveled figure, his tie askew under his FBI body armor. Calahan?!
“FBI!” he yelled. And started shooting. And right behind him, shooting over his shoulder, was a woman in her sixties, her silver hair pinned up tight and a savage expression on her face. Carrie?!
Three of Grushin’s men fell immediately, and, now that they were being attacked from two sides, the rest of them panicked as they tried to return fire. Gennadiy and the others began to push forward again, towards me. “What are you doing here?” I yelled to Calahan. “I told you not to come!”
“When did I ever do as I was told?” yelled Calahan.
As more and more of his men fell, I could feel Grushin’s mood shifting from confidence to panic. He put his gun to my head and backed away, pulling me in front of him. Gennadiy ran forward and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Calahan. “It’s over, Viktor! Let her go!”
But neither of them had a clear shot, not with me hanging limply in Grushin’s arms. I tried to struggle, but the wound in my back burned and spasmed, and I cried out in pain.
Grushin opened the side door and dragged me out into the garden, then started moving towards the front of the house.
I was going to live just long enough to be his hostage and help him get away with this whole thing.
72
GENNADIY
I had him right in my sights, but I didn’t dare shoot, not with Alison’s head lolling and swaying in front of his. Blyat’, she looked so pale! I glanced helplessly at the two FBI agents who’d shown up, but there was nothing they could do, either.
We advanced down the side of the house, following Grushin as he backed towards a car. With every step, I could feel the tension ratcheting higher in my chest. Sirens were wailing in the distance. Grushin was going to get away, and the cops would turn up just in time to arrest us and stop us from going after him. Grushin would go into hiding, his friend the DA would cover things up, and the clinic would be running again within a month. I growled and pushed forward, closing the distance to Grushin, but he pushed his gun warningly against Alison’s temple, and my steps faltered.
I just need one little break, I prayed. One chance. Just one.
And then, as Grushin reached for the handle of his car door, I got it.
Alison’s blonde-haired friend came lurching out of the bushes in front of the house, tears flooding down her cheeks, and plunged a knife into Grushin’s side. He tottered sideways, letting go of Alison...and that’s all I needed.
I launched myself at him and tackled him to the ground, then started punching him. The fury I’d honed for so many years roared to life. For Alison! And Yakov! And Bronwyn! My fists smashed into his face, left then right then left, the rage whirling faster and faster. The casino! Our money! All the Bratva he’d killed and terrorized back home! All the people he’d killed, to take their organs!
This ended now. I was going to destroy him completely, so he could never hurt anyone again.
I glanced up and saw Mikhail running towards me. Mikhail! Grushin killed his friend and the woman he loved. My fists swung again and again, blood flying.
“Stop!” yelled the male FBI agent. But I didn’t.
Valentin reached me and put a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me away, but I shook him off. Then Mikhail was on my other shoulder, but I twisted away from him, too. He deserves it. He deserves to die. I pounded Grushin’s face, on and on—
And then I glanced up and saw Alison. She was lying on her back on the front lawn, with the older, female FBI agent crouching next to her. She needed me. And she needed Grushin alive to clear her name.
A week ago, I wouldn’t have been able to pull myself back. But now...
My fists rose, trembling, dripping blood...and paused. I knelt there sucking down the cold night air, clawing at the anger inside me, willing it to slow and slow...and stop.
Immediately, the guilt rushed in, eating away at my vulnerable, unprotected core. It hurt so much I hunched over, fists clenching tight. I knew I couldn’t take it forever.
But for her...I could take it for a while. Until—I looked across at Valentin—until I could do what needed to be done.