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Not really helping.
Walid knocked Tony’s hand away, stood up, flicked open a knife. He stalked toward her. “Your brother can cry over your corpse as I did my brother’s.”
“Come on then, Wally,” Justice taunted. Please, Victor, understand the signal. “Let’s go!”
Chapter 72
The rickety mine shaft elevator rocked to a stop with a pop that spit out coal dust and congealed mechanical oil. Even the throat full of water Sandesh had chugged from Dusty’s flask couldn’t keep him from coughing.
He wiped his mouth and blinked his eyes clear. The short tunnel leading out to the compound was lit by a single, old-school light bulb. A group of four men stood at the mouth of the mine shaft with weapons drawn.
Dusty used his Glock 22 to motion Sandesh and Gracie out of the metal box and to the side of the wood-beam-supported tunnel. Sandesh shuffled out, head down.
Gracie did a good job of strutting out like she didn’t give a damn. Although Sandesh strongly suspected that was an act.
The waiting guards kept their weapons drawn, watched her more than Sandesh, but they really watched Dusty.
Whoever he was, Dusty had the respect of the men who worked here. He strolled out with an almost good-natured casualness. Of course, he pretended that Sandesh and Gracie were his prisoners. And though it wasn’t easy for Sandesh to trust this guy’s plan, if it got him closer to Justice, he had to take the chance.
Dusty spoke in Spanish to the men. He asked what was going on in the camp. They told him that Justice had been captured, captured because her brother had lured her into a trap.
Gracie made a small, pained sound. Sandesh’s hands clenched into fists. Fucking traitor. He was going to kill Tony.
Dusty didn’t miss a beat. With a flow of Spanish almost too quick for Sandesh to keep up, he told the men that he had a confession. He sort of felt bad about it, but facts were facts, and he still worked for the FBI. Yep, he told them, things were going to get very bad very quickly.
Guy had balls. Telling a group of men with guns trained in your direction that you’d basically lied, infiltrated their ranks, and tricked them wasn’t how Sandesh would’ve played it. Dusty even made sure to emphasize that the kidnapping of an American was a serious crime.
Not giving them time to consider shooting, Dusty appealed to their sense of self-preservation. He told them he didn’t want them in trouble, so he’d give them a chance to leave before the rest of his people showed up. In helicopters.
Dude was a good liar. The guards began to talk among themselves. Dusty didn’t let up. His Spanish was much better than Sandesh’s. “You boys will have to leave those weapons,” he said. “I can’t help you if you’re caught with them. If you’re caught without guns though, I can get them to let you go. No questions asked.”
Dude was a great liar.
The pressure built as the men began to argue. Dusty turned his gun on them. “Don’t be stupid. Leave the guns and go.”
Sandesh was pretty sure the air in the tunnel had gotten a lot more congested, what with the size of Dusty’s balls taking up so much space.
The men froze. Sandesh readied himself to act. A long, tense moment passed. A Mexican standoff, of sorts.
“Boys.” Dusty shook his head. His voice was the same casual, good-natured stream. “Come on now, get going.”
Slowly, the men placed their guns down on the packed dirt and backed out of the tunnel. Dusty turned to Sandesh and Gracie. “Let’s give ’em a little while to spread the word before we head out.”
Shaking his head, Sandesh bent and grabbed a semiautomatic rifle from the pile. “I’m not waiting.”
Tony was a dead man.
The shreds of his tuxedo pants flapping around his ankles—flimsy things weren’t built to take any kind of real movement—he stepped out into the night.
Chapter 73
“Come on then, Wally. Let’s go!”
Everything seemed to happen in one horrifying time-lapse instant.
Justice reached for her knife. Victor broke from the curtain, shot the thick-necked guard behind Tony.
With a slap as loud as the bullet that’d killed him, the guard slammed against terra-cotta tiles.
Still by the door, Cold Eyes jerked his weapon around and shot Victor. One, two, three times, hitting him in the torso.
Victor fell against the curtains, grasped at the gold sheets. They slid through his hands, and he slipped down in a bloody mess.
Justice’s knife sailed past Walid as he had the good sense to drop down, slamming his knee against a marble coffee table.
Walid was back on his feet in an instant. Guy must have a huge pain tolerance. He motioned Cold Eyes not to shoot and hobbled toward Justice with a sneer as vindictive as it was certain.
God. If he got his hands on her, she was going to die. In pain. Now would be a really good time for that poison to kick in.
Sensing the gun at her back, Justice braced her feet and spread her hands wide.
Walid’s eyebrows rose. He stopped short and grunted. The knife in his hands dropped. He reached over his left shoulder where Justice’s knife jutted out like an insult.
Holy shit. Tony had stabbed Walid. He’d hidden behind the tall fucker and stabbed him in the back of his neck.
Walid cursed, a bloody rumble like earth shattering against earth, then began to convulse. He crashed to his knees, lowered his head, vomited, and curled onto his side.
The remaining guard shot at Tony. Tony jerked to the side and dropped. The guard swung his gun at Justice.
Reinforcements burst through the doorway, three guards.
No. Not guards. Sandesh and Gracie with…
American Ninja Warrior?
Bam. Bam. Bam. Sandesh shot the guard who had his weapon aimed at Justice. He didn’t stop shooting until the guy was on the ground. Dead. Dead. Dead.
Sandesh moved into the room. His weapon now aimed at…
Tony?
Uninjured, Tony had faked his fall, crawled around the couch, and picked up the dead guard’s assault rifle. He now stood.
Tony and Sandesh had some serious weapons pointed at each other.
And Walid, whose nervous system was closing up shop, convulsed at the foot of the couch. A knife deep in his neck.
Gracie took charge. “Stand down, big guy,” she told Ninja Warrior who, Justice now noticed, also had his gun on Sandesh. “This is between family. Keep an eye on the door.”
To Justice’s utter shock, Ninja Warrior nodded once and said, “Okay, darlin’,” and did as she said.
What had just happened?
Gracie glared at Tony. “Drop the gun, traitor.”
Tony swallowed, put the gun on the floor, took three steps back, and held up his hands.
Sandesh rushed over to Justice but kept the rifle trained on Tony. “You okay?”
He was worried about her? He clearly hadn’t looked in a mirror recently. His face swollen, bruises over his ribs, his pants torn, his lips cracked and dry. “Did he…did they hurt you?”
Sandesh shook his head. He bent, ran his nose across her cheek. “Justice, are you okay?”
Warmth crawled across her skin and down into her muscles. Was she okay? “Yes. But…” She looked over Tony’s shoulder. “Victor.”
“Victor? Victor is here?”
Sandesh started forward. Justice stopped him. “Give me the rifle.”
Chapter 74
Sandesh handed Justice his weapon without hesitation. How the hell was Victor here?
Justice pointed the rifle at her brother’s chest. “Move to the side so Sandesh can help Victor.”
Sandesh walked across the room. Once clear of the couch, he saw him. Victor, dressed more scantily than Gracie, curtains cushioned his torso, blood covered his body.
Sandesh fi
sted his hands to keep from attacking Justice’s brother. He was well aware of the man’s eyes on him, the anger and frustration there. That made two of them.
“Fuck, Victor,” Sandesh said, dropping to his knees. “What are you doing here?”
Victor was conscious. His gun still gripped in his hand. His eyes widened. “Got shot.”
Sandesh nodded to acknowledge this was indeed true. Gracie was there instantly, handing him a bottle of vodka she had grabbed from a small rolling bar.
He poured the contents over his hands, washed them like a raccoon in a stream, then poured vodka onto Victor. Victor hissed.
“Don’t move, Tony.”
