Page 11 of Russian Rescue

“Come on, Piper! Let’s go!” Wes said.

“Start descending! I’m right behind you!” I called and fired again, this time taking two men down as they crept around the corner.

I heard the whir of the descender fading away, so I leaped out the window and wrapped my gloved hands around the rope. A bullet nicked the heavy rope above my head, and it jolted as it started to fray.

“Fuck,” I ground out, glancing down to see Wes creeping down the rope below me. “Go faster, Wes!”

“Faster?” he called back up.

Another bullet struck the rope and we jerked again.

“Push the rope away from you and GO!” I commanded. “Marcus, our rope is compromised. Do not descend. I repeat, do not descend.”

“Roger that,” Marcus said. “Knox, I still need a pickup on the roof.”

“Roger that,” Knox answered. “On my way.”

The soft whir of Wes’s descent turned into a high-pitched squeal as he whizzed down the rope below me. I loosened my grip on the fraying rope and slid down after him, hoping it would support both our weight until we got low enough to survive the drop without any catastrophic injuries.

“Holy shit!” His voice traveled up to me, getting quieter by the second as he flew down at breakneck speed.

I glanced up to see a man peer out the window looking down at us, the dark night sky clouding away any distinguishable features. I smirked as I released the rope with one hand, lifted my gun, and put a bullet between his eyes. His body fell out the window and tumbled past me.

“Jesus!” Wes shouted up. “Holy shit! I thought that was you! He almost hit me!”

“Just keep sliding!” I called down, continuing my rapid descent behind him.

Finally, I reached the bottom and leaped off the rope. Wes stood in his underwear looking ready to puke.

“You good?” I pressed a hand to his muscular shoulder.

He nodded. “That’s way different than it is in video games.”

Chuckling, I spoke into my comms. “Marcus, we’re on the ground. We’re going for the car.” A few pops of gunfire echoed in my comms. “You good up there?”

Marcus chuckled. “Nothing I can’t handle. Just take care of our Pretty Boy.”

A few more gunshots went off, but I didn’t let them worry me. Having faith in his ability to stay alive, I put my focus back on Wes. “Follow me.”

We crept low toward the street where Marcus and I had parked our van. But when we came around the corner of the building, I lifted my hand and gestured for Wes to stop. Half a dozen heavily armed men moved through the area separating us from the street, and when I looked the other way, another half dozen more appeared.

“Change of plan,” I said into my comms. “Getaway is hot. Get yourself out, and we’ll make our way to the safehouse on Tverskaya Street.”

“Roger that,” Marcus responded.

“What’s happening?” Wes asked.

“We need to go. Setting off the alarms has brought in backup. Jesus, who are these guys?”

They looked well-trained and well-armed. And the last thing we needed was a full-on assault outside.

I glanced at Wes, realizing blending into the city on foot would prove difficult with Wes running around in his freaking underwear.

“Do you need an extract?” Knox broke in. “I can snag Marcus off the roof then try to find somewhere to do an air-to-surface extraction in Moscow for you and Wes.”

Even though no one on this planet could fly better than Knox, I didn’t want to risk an incident in downtown Moscow. “Too dangerous,” I replied. “We’ll try to grab a cab, or the Metro isn’t far. I can always hotwire a car if we need to, but I don’t want to risk a police chase if we can avoid it. Just focus on getting Marcus out, and we’ll rally later. I think we should hunker down for the night then move again when the heat is off. We’re heading to the safe house. I’m gonna find Wes some pants and get into the city.”

“Huh?” Marcus cut in.