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Chris nodded, but not just because he agreed with Jay’s logic. There was an angry itch underneath his skin, a deep urge to get even with the bastard who had tortured him.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Chris held tighter to the gun.
He was getting used to the thing.
*
Out of the ten doors on the second floor, only one had the sound of a TV coming from its other side. It was the last room in the long hallway, which thankfully meant maximum distance between Dima and the living room. It really was a stupidly large house, and Chris counted on that to play in their favor. His heart drummed faster when he walked past the room where Dima had almost choked him to death.
“Hold on.” Jay pulled Chris back when he took the lead. “We’re taking it slow and careful.”
“Iamcareful.”
Jay whispered in his ear, “This is about freeing Anthony, not payback.”
Chris swallowed down his anger, knowing Jay was right. They reached the last room. Jay listened closely and whispered, “I’ve no idea where he’s sitting.”
Not good, Chris thought. If they opened the door with Dima facing them, he might panic, and if he had his gun handy, panic might turn into a flying bullet.
Ethan backed up and gestured with his head to the door next to Dima’s room. Confused, Chris followed him inside with Jay at his heels. It was a small and typical guest room with a single bed and a glass door that led onto a balcony. Ethan opened that door and peeked outside before closing it back quietly. “Okay, this is what I’m thinking. There’s a balcony here and another one in Dima’s room. I’ll make my way to the other balcony and distract Dima. Once you hear me say ‘now’, barge through the door and take him down. I’ll make sure he’s with his back to you.”
Chris shook his head. “You’re kidding. We’re not using you as bait.”
Ethan was about to argue when Jay said, “Solid plan.” He went to glance outside. “The balconies are close, but you’ll need to stretch.”
“I can stretch.”
“I’m vetoing this,” Chris said.
“Noted.” Jay turned to Ethan. “Get his attention but don’t make him lose his shit. We’ll be waiting on the other side of the door.”
Ethan nodded and stepped outside before Chris had a chance to warn again that this was a terrible idea.
“He’ll be fine,” Jay said and walked toward the entrance. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”
Still troubled, Chris followed him back into the hallway until they stopped outside Dima’s door.
“What if we don’t hear him?” Chris whispered. “The TV’s loud.”
“We’ll hear him.” Chris hoped for more confidence in Jay’s voice.
The seconds crawled by, and with each one, Chris’s anxiety grew stronger. His palms began to sweat, especially the one holding the gun. It was absurd that Ethan was the one risking himself when he had the least to do with any of this.
“Breathe,” Jay said. “I need you sharp.”
“I’m—”
“Who’s there?” Dima’s voice rose above the TV.
Jay closed his palm around the door handle, his knees bent as he got ready to barge in.
“How’d you get in here?” The TV stopped.
Chris held the gun tighter, his breath locked in his lungs.
“Now.”
At the sound of Ethan’s voice, Jay pulled down the handle, then pulled again. “Shit.”
