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The bald guy gave her a grin that made her stomach turn.
“Copy that,” Durand said into his comm unit, before speaking to the lanky guy who was covering the window. “Our exit is blocked. We’ve lost contact with Ray and Fritz. Stew is bringing the car around. We’re going out that window.” He pointed to the window, because his team were too damn dumb to figure it out for themselves. “Clear it.”
Lanky guy did that by hitting the glass with the butt of his gun.
“Why are you doing this?” Against her better judgement, Megan felt the need to engage the madman.
Durand looked down at her. “You owe me.”
“For what? Freeing myself from your kidnapping attempt? For blowing your career prospects with Rudi’s organisation? For shooting you in the bum? What exactly did I do that makes me so special?”
He crouched down beside her and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You were lucky in Scotland. I can see that now. I’d thought it was skill, but it was luck. Still, you got the better of me and no one gets the better of me. You will act as a reminder to anyone who dares try in the future. After I’m finished with you, no one will make the same mistake.”
All Megan saw when she looked in his eyes was a calculated and calm determination. No emotion. No reaction. For Durand this was about settling a score and sending a message. It was about protecting his reputation as a ruthless lunatic. He was the most terrifyingly dangerous kind of man, one who treated violence purely as business.
“Done.” The lanky guy motioned to the window, again in case they didn’t know what he was talking about.
Durand stood. “Take her out of here. I’ll follow,” he said to the bald guy and then pointed to the lanky one. “You bring up the rear. No one follows. You hear me.”
The lanky guy nodded and pointed his gun at the door.
The bald guy threw Megan over his shoulder, fireman style, and held her in place by wedging his hand into her crotch. He laughed when Megan yelped and struggled to get away from him.
“Keep fighting me.” He climbed through the window. “I like it.”
More laughter when Megan went still.
“Stop screwing around,” Durand snapped.
A shot rang out behind them. Shouting. Running. There weren’t many street lights behind the school and it was dark. Megan was upside down. She arched her back to see anything, something. Nothing. All she saw was the ground swinging beneath her. More screaming. A car screeched to a halt, tyres on gravel. There were sirens in the distance. The police were coming.
“Get her in the car.” Another order from Durand.
A car door slammed.
“No!” They were not taking her in the car. Megan knew if they could get her away from the building her chance of survival was next to zero.
She bucked and thrashed in the bald guy’s hold. He grasped her tighter, his nails digging in to sensitive flesh. She wished her hands were free. Wished they weren’t tied up behind her back. Tensing her muscles, she kicked out with all her might in an attempt to unbalance him, to force him to release her. The move made him stumble. His grip loosened. And then she was falling.
“I dropped her,” the bald guy yelled.
Megan hit the ground with a thud, catching most of the impact on her shoulder. She screamed as something snapped. Dislocated? She wasn’t sure. Blinking hard, she fought not to pass out. She was on her back, her head towards the car which was about six feet away. The driver was on the other side of the car, using it for cover as he fired at the school. Durand grabbed her hair and started pulling her towards the car. Dragging her along the dirt. Megan roared as she lifted her body onto her shoulders. The pain almost made her black out, but she managed to kick his arm. He lost his hold on her hair.
“Bitch.” He pointed the gun at her.
She rolled, but not before she felt the bullet hit her leg.
“No!” A voice bellowed in the darkness.
Dimitri.
Bullets hit the car, making Durand take cover behind the open passenger door. The bald guy backed up towards her, aiming his gun at the school. Megan lifted her legs and used all of her strength to kick the back of his knees. He crumpled with a shout. She pulled her legs up until she was in a ball, then brought them through her bound hands so that they were now in front of her instead of behind her. Pain sliced through her, making her vision blur. Her breathing was choppy and she knew she didn’t have long before unconsciousness took her. She kept one eye on the bald guy. He didn’t move. He must have taken a bullet.
It was a chance. If she could get to his gun, she could end this. She threw herself beside his body, scrambling for his gun. Cold metal under her fingertips. She grasped it. With no time to think, she rolled and pointed the gun at Durand. There was no hesitation. She pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Bloody automatic weapon. Too many freaking bells and whistles.
“This ends here.” Durand aimed his weapon at her. “I would have liked to have done so much more, but a bullet to the head is a message in itself.”
Megan closed her eyes as pain washed over her. What little strength she had left seeped away. There was nothing else she could do. It was over. A shot rang out. Her body jerked. And then there was nothing.
