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“Move now,” Snow whispered.
Ian dove for the opposite side of the open doorway at the same time as Carter jerked his gun upward. From the corner of his eye, Ian saw Snow slip from the other side of the doorway and fire two darts at Carter. The man shouted and managed to squeeze off. Ian rolled out of the way, but his eyes immediately came back to Snow. His friend gave him a quick thumbs up to prove that he was unharmed.
The firing suddenly stopped, and they both peeked into the room to find Carter and Max collapsed on the floor, unconscious. They both charged into the room. Snow kicked the gun away from Carter’s limp fingers before they kneeled down next to a bloody Max sprawled across the floor. Were they too late? Had Ian just endangered the lives of his family and friends for nothing?
Max flinched and tried to curl up in a ball when Snow pressed his fingers to his throat to check for a pulse. Ian breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Even through the night-vision goggles, Ian could clearly see that Max’s face was horribly cut and swollen from the beating he’d suffered. Blood was splashed across his ragged clothes, and there was an ugly rattle in his breathing as he gasped for air against the pain.
“We’ve got the target. He’s alive,” Ian announced.
“But he’s in bad shape,” Snow added. “Watch the door while I check him over. I need to be sure that it’s safe to move him.”
“Not moving him isn’t exactly an option, Tin Man,” Rowe said over the earpiece, his sneer very evident in his words. “We need to hurry!”
Ian took up position in front of Max and Snow, making sure they were blocked by his body should anyone come through the open doorway.
“I’m not making him worse by moving him,” Snow snapped.
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Gidget offered.
“Not yet—”
“Oh, darn it!” Gidget cried. “Lights in five seconds!”
Ian grabbed his goggles and ripped them off before he could be blinded. He could hear the others cursing the electric company for having their shit pulled together so fast.
Light suddenly glowed behind his eyelids and Ian blinked several times, trying to get his eyes to quickly adjust to the dim, dirty light of the room. The warehouse behind the doorway looked brighter, and he hoped his friends were adapting.
“Ian?”
Ian whipped around at the sound of Max’s surprised voice. The beaten man was staring at him through the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
With more speed than he thought possible, Max grabbed the gun Snow had set down while he examined Max and pointed it at Ian’s chest. Snow straightened, pulling away from Max, while Ian took a step backward, holding both of his hands up. His damn back was to the doorway, making everyone in the room vulnerable to an intruder.
“What? Why are you here?” Max demanded. The nose of the gun trembled, but his finger was resting on the trigger, making it too damn dangerous for Snow to jerk the gun away. Ian wasn’t sure if it was Snow’s tranq gun or a real gun, but he really didn’t want to find out the hard way.
“We came to rescue you,” Ian said as gently as possible.
“Bullshit—”
“We don’t have time for this! My friends and I are risking our lives to save your ass. I’ll not have them die because you’re too busy being an idiot.”
Max’s busted lips parted in surprise, and Ian had to admit that it probably wasn’t the best approach when someone was holding a gun on him.
“But…why? I attacked you…burned your restaurant…”
“I know. You’re angry. You have a right to be angry. You shouldn’t have suffered alone for so long. I was lucky. I have people who helped me. Loved me.” Ian slowly lowered his empty hand and stretched it out to Max. “Let us help you now.”
“But…”
“No buts. Let me help.”
Ian held his breath as he waited for Max to decide whether his hatred of Ian outweighed his need for help. The seconds stretched, feeling like an eternity, before Max gave a jerky nod. He removed his finger from the trigger. Snow instantly jerked the gun away and seriously looked as if he were contemplating turning it on Max.
“Dorothy? Tin Man? What’s going on?” Rowe demanded.
“We’re good. Clear us an exit. We’re coming down,” Snow replied.
“Get moving, gang,” Gidget announced with new urgency. “A call just went in about gunshots.”
Ian listened with only half his attention as the men he’d invaded the warehouse with pulled back to the exit and prepared to cover his and Snow’s escape with Max. Lucas was already moving to pull the van around. The gunfire on the main floor of the warehouse had slowed and was now only the occasional pop.
Snow tucked his gun away and carefully pulled Max up to his feet before placing him across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Max moaned softly as Snow settled him. It was a good thing Max was roughly the same size as Ian. Snow made it look like he was hefting a rag doll. But he had to keep both hands on Max and the railing. He was completely dependent on Ian to keep them covered and safe as they descended to the first floor.
