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“You don’t call the shots,” he said instead of killing him.
“For Christ’s sake, Paps. Stop with the power trip and tell me why I’m here.”
Before he knew he was coming, Gunner had his hand around Striker’s throat, and his body slammed up against the wall.
“Gunner?” he heard Raketa say from behind him.
“Never. Call. Me. That,” he seethed under his breath. “Do you understand me?”
Striker didn’t respond, but Gunner released him anyway.
Raketa stepped forward and put her hand on Gunner’s arm. Surprisingly, his first instinct wasn’t to pull away from her.
She slid her fingers down his arm until her hand was in his, and led him over to the sofa.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked Striker, who was rubbing his neck.
“A good stiff drink would be nice.”
—:—
Raketa walked over to the refrigerator and smiled when she saw a bottle of vodka in the freezer. She got three glasses out of the cupboard and brought them to the table near the sofa where Gunner was seated.
She poured all three. “To freedom,” she said, meeting both Gunner and Striker’s eyes before throwing the shot back. Both men drank. Raketa sat down next to Gunner, and Striker sat in a chair close enough to the table that he could still reach the bottle of vodka.
“You’re here to help us figure out how to get UR to let me go without killing me.”
Striker poured another glass of vodka, hesitating a moment before pouring another for her and Gunner.
Gunner looked at Striker like he wanted to kill him.
Raketa leaned back and sat close enough to Gunner that their bodies touched.
“My understanding is that Doc has been working his contacts on your behalf.”
“Do you think you’d be here if he’d been successful, you asshole?”
Raketa almost laughed. “As Gunner said, he hasn’t gotten anywhere.”
—:—
He sat there, saying nothing, all the while he had the answer that would save Raketa’s life and get Striker the hell out of there because he’d no longer be needed. He felt the bile from the shot rise in his throat and thought for a minute he’d be sick.
He hadn’t had time to look into who Kuznetsov was, but did it matter? Shiv had made it clear that using her as a bargaining chip was out of the question.
If the situations were reversed, would Shiver allow this woman to face assassination when he knew Raketa could be offered in trade? It was a question he couldn’t answer, because he didn’t want to.
There were lines that could never be crossed, and at the top was betraying your teammate. While they’d worked for different organizations the entire time Gunner had known Shiv, they were still brothers in arms.
Gunner studied the woman sitting next to him. Still, every time he saw her, she took his breath away. Now that he knew how it felt to hold her in his arms, how could he not do everything in his power to save her life?
He moved his arm so it wrapped her shoulders, and breathed in the scent of her.
“Is he drunk?” he heard Striker say, giving him one more reason to kill him.
“It’s been a very, very long day,” Raketa answered. “We should get some rest. There’s nothing that can be done tonight.”
Striker stood. “Where’s my bunk?”
