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“Only those who matter to you, if you fail me.” he said. “The game is over.” He motioned with the gun. “Go on. Give me what I need.”
She agreed the situation looked bleak. Impossible even. Her twenty-two was ridiculously outmatched by Carson’s nine-millimeter and the added advantage of a sniper.
Silently, she prayed to St. Michael. “You’ll never get away with this,” Eva said through gritted teeth. “Even with the code, you can’t get away with this.” There had to be a solution. There was always a solution. “You’ll never even get out of the county.”
“Still, you underestimate me? I have friends in high places, your highness.”
Her eyes darted from Carson to Abraham. The red dot of the sniper’s rifle scope held steady on Abe’s chest; Bakr’s pistol remained pressed to the back of Carson’s head.
Her palms itched and a red haze seeped around the edges of her vision. She struggled to beat it back, to find the solution.
The Army needed Abraham’s intel. Without him, they couldn’t prosecute business owners working against American interests. They’d be right back to square one.
She needed Carson. No further rationale required. It was simply the truth of her heart.
Training, target practice, analysis—none of it mattered now.
“Do you believe in karma?”
“I believe in power.”
“You certainly believe in drama.” Eva lowered her weapon a fraction, hoping Bakr would instinctively follow suit. He didn’t. “That surprises me. You’ve played this game, manipulated people accordingly—”
“Stop stalling and tell me what I need to know.”
“None of this dramatic presentation was necessary. I have complete and perfect recall of every communication that night.”
“Tell me!” Bakr roared and fired at Abraham. “Tell me,” he repeated. “Or all you love is dead.”
If Carson would just come around. According to the plan he was supposed to be awake by now. She looked to Abe, slumped against the counter.
“It is over.” The older man said with a groan. “Just let him win.”
“Shut up!” Bakr yelled. “I have earned this!”
In the chair Carson jerked, raised his head. She glanced his way. Had he just winked at her? It was hard to tell with one of his eyes swollen nearly shut.
“Let it be done,” Abe whispered, drawing her attention, his hand clutched to his stomach where blood seeped between his fingers. Bakr must have shot him during his capture. “I will soon join my son.”
“Tell me!” Bakr repeated.
Every word mattered here, no one was willing to take the chance that Bakr’s allies weren’t listening in.
“Your heart is black,” she said, in English, her voice catching on the altered code phrase. It wasn’t fear that had caused the hitch, it was sheer relief. The sniper’s sight had shifted to Bakr’s throat. Ross, St. Michael, or someone, had arrived to back her up.
“That is the phrase?”
Eva’s smile was full of malicious intent. “That is the truth.”
Bakr fired at Carson’s head as she raised the revolver and unloaded all six rounds, each shot accompanied by a prayer of protection for Carson.
Bakr collapsed, his screams of pain ricocheting around the small room.
She rushed forward to move the gun out of Bakr’s reach, but it was a moot point. The sniper had opted to blow off Bakr’s hand rather than take the kill shot.
She wasn’t ashamed that the knowledge of him suffering pleased her. Death was too quick, too easy for a man who’d tortured his family so mercilessly.
“You blew out his knee,” Carson said, completely alert, his eyes shining with pride. “Nice job.”
