breath as he tested the door handle.
He knew what he had to do—leave no one alive who could give the Grekovs the name of the missing woman and baby.
Finding the back door unlocked, a calm settled over him. He slipped inside to find a wiry male standing in front of a stove, spacing out over empty pans. Next to him, unmixed and capped, were chemicals used in the manufacture of methamphetamine.
Kane stepped behind him, brought his gun hand up, his forearm flat against the man’s opposite cheek. His other hand snaked behind the target’s head then around his chin.
There was less than half a second of the target realizing he was not alone in the room. He dropped the lid he was holding and then Kane jerked his right arm back to his right side, mirroring the technique with his left arm and snapping the man’s neck.
Something touched against the back of Kane’s knee. Dropping the target, he spun, gun pointed and ready to fire.
Yellow-green eyes stared up at him.
The cat tapped Kane’s leg a second time as Stoker began yelling in the next room.
“Drag Paulie’s fucking ass in here so I can kick it!”
Cue target number two, Kane thought, lifting the pistol and stepping over the corpse as Wells walked into view.
“What the—”
Kane pulled the trigger and down the man went.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Stoker shouted followed by a two-octave jump in the man’s voice before he screamed a threat that stopped Kane’s heart.
“Bitch, I’ll kill you for that.”
Kane burst into the room, gun up, gaze trained on the far side of the living room where Stoker had one hand covering his eye. The other hand held a Smith & Wesson M&P45. Daniella was on the floor, throwing herself in front of Christine’s car seat. She had something in her outstretched hand.
A red dot bounced against Stoker’s cheek.
Seeing Kane, Stoker jerked his gun arm up, both men firing at the same time.
Stoker’s cheek exploded. Kane spun, a grunt leaving him, his body hitting the ground as Reed kicked in the front door.
Over the comm link, Marcus offered an update.
“Recovery in one-point-two-five.”
Chapter Fourteen
S trong armed by Reed into the back of a massive armored vehicle, Daniella wanted to tear her hair out—or at least scream really, really loudly.
Kane was inside the filthy house injured, a broad spray of his blood on the door Reed had ushered her through. No one had told her Kane’s condition, but a second team had arrived and was working on him.
Sitting in the car seat, Christine began to kick and fuss.
“It’s okay, love,” Daniella coaxed, her frustration, but none of her anxiety, abandoning her at the first sign of the baby’s distress.
One of the other Stark employees who had arrived after the shooting had tossed Christine’s diaper bag into the vehicle. Daniella unzipped the bag and removed a water bottle.
Lifting Christine out of the car seat, she patted at the baby’s bottom, relieved that a diaper change wasn’t necessary. The way her hands were still shaking, just giving the baby a bottle would be a challenge.
Hearing a new vehicle enter the yard, Daniella tensed. It didn’t sound like a motorcycle, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t someone from Stoker’s gang.
The back doors of the tactical vehicle in which she waited were thrown open.
“That will have to wait a few minutes,” Reed said with a nod at the bottle.
The right side of his face was red and puffy, the flesh around his eye socket beginning to purple. Without another word, he stepped into the vehicle, hoisted Christine’s car seat and bag then walked to a black van.
Figuring that was her cue to follow, she got out of the first vehicle but stopped to look at the house.
“Is he—”
Reed interrupted the question by taking Christine from her and stepping into the van.
“Strap in,” he ordered, his voice remaining gentle as he settled the baby into place. His gaze when he shut the van’s side door and jerked his thumb towards the front
He knew what he had to do—leave no one alive who could give the Grekovs the name of the missing woman and baby.
Finding the back door unlocked, a calm settled over him. He slipped inside to find a wiry male standing in front of a stove, spacing out over empty pans. Next to him, unmixed and capped, were chemicals used in the manufacture of methamphetamine.
Kane stepped behind him, brought his gun hand up, his forearm flat against the man’s opposite cheek. His other hand snaked behind the target’s head then around his chin.
There was less than half a second of the target realizing he was not alone in the room. He dropped the lid he was holding and then Kane jerked his right arm back to his right side, mirroring the technique with his left arm and snapping the man’s neck.
Something touched against the back of Kane’s knee. Dropping the target, he spun, gun pointed and ready to fire.
Yellow-green eyes stared up at him.
The cat tapped Kane’s leg a second time as Stoker began yelling in the next room.
“Drag Paulie’s fucking ass in here so I can kick it!”
Cue target number two, Kane thought, lifting the pistol and stepping over the corpse as Wells walked into view.
“What the—”
Kane pulled the trigger and down the man went.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Stoker shouted followed by a two-octave jump in the man’s voice before he screamed a threat that stopped Kane’s heart.
“Bitch, I’ll kill you for that.”
Kane burst into the room, gun up, gaze trained on the far side of the living room where Stoker had one hand covering his eye. The other hand held a Smith & Wesson M&P45. Daniella was on the floor, throwing herself in front of Christine’s car seat. She had something in her outstretched hand.
A red dot bounced against Stoker’s cheek.
Seeing Kane, Stoker jerked his gun arm up, both men firing at the same time.
Stoker’s cheek exploded. Kane spun, a grunt leaving him, his body hitting the ground as Reed kicked in the front door.
Over the comm link, Marcus offered an update.
“Recovery in one-point-two-five.”
Chapter Fourteen
S trong armed by Reed into the back of a massive armored vehicle, Daniella wanted to tear her hair out—or at least scream really, really loudly.
Kane was inside the filthy house injured, a broad spray of his blood on the door Reed had ushered her through. No one had told her Kane’s condition, but a second team had arrived and was working on him.
Sitting in the car seat, Christine began to kick and fuss.
“It’s okay, love,” Daniella coaxed, her frustration, but none of her anxiety, abandoning her at the first sign of the baby’s distress.
One of the other Stark employees who had arrived after the shooting had tossed Christine’s diaper bag into the vehicle. Daniella unzipped the bag and removed a water bottle.
Lifting Christine out of the car seat, she patted at the baby’s bottom, relieved that a diaper change wasn’t necessary. The way her hands were still shaking, just giving the baby a bottle would be a challenge.
Hearing a new vehicle enter the yard, Daniella tensed. It didn’t sound like a motorcycle, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t someone from Stoker’s gang.
The back doors of the tactical vehicle in which she waited were thrown open.
“That will have to wait a few minutes,” Reed said with a nod at the bottle.
The right side of his face was red and puffy, the flesh around his eye socket beginning to purple. Without another word, he stepped into the vehicle, hoisted Christine’s car seat and bag then walked to a black van.
Figuring that was her cue to follow, she got out of the first vehicle but stopped to look at the house.
“Is he—”
Reed interrupted the question by taking Christine from her and stepping into the van.
“Strap in,” he ordered, his voice remaining gentle as he settled the baby into place. His gaze when he shut the van’s side door and jerked his thumb towards the front
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