If Kiyomi let him live.
Chloe secretly hoped she wouldn’t.
“You’re still clear, but we’re cutting it close now,” Trinity answered. “Move.”
Picking up the pace, Chloe hurried to the workbench lining the back wall of the luxury garage and boosted herself onto it. Standing, she reached up for the sill of the partially-open window and jumped, catching the edge of the sill and levering her body up to push it open.
A quick check outside assured her that no one was back here. She slid one leg through, then the other, balancing momentarily on the sill before jumping to the ground.
She landed in a crouch on the pavement below and paused to ensure the window was mostly closed, as it had been when she’d arrived, then darted around the side of the building and disappeared into the gathering shadows. Picking her way through the maze of easements and lanes to reach her ready position for the next phase of the op, she crouched in a tiny back alley between two brick, terraced houses to wait.
“I’m good to go,” she murmured, alerting the others. From her vantage point she could see Tarasov’s place on the opposite side of the block through the end of the alley, about sixty meters away.
“Copy that,” Trinity answered, monitoring everything back at Laidlaw Hall. “Stand by.”
Kiyomi spoke a few moments later. “We’re in position.” She and Marcus were currently tucked away out of sight in a blind spot near the back of Tarasov’s house that the cameras couldn’t pick up. As soon as Trinity gave the word, Chloe would blow the charge and get this party started.
Waiting was never easy for her. On an op she was able to focus better, but she was still restless, and this time she had another distraction, wondering how things were going for Heath’s team. Eden should be in the middle of or have completed her op by now too.
Not wanting to distract Trinity at such a critical time by asking for an update, she took the custom detonator button from her pocket, then pulled out the radio she’d brought and switched to the frequency that allowed her to hear Amber’s communication with Heath’s team.
But nothing could have prepared for what she heard on the other end.
“Briar, give me status,” Amber demanded, her tone curt.
Chloe tensed. Something was wrong.
“A car just went at them,” Briar said. “I put a round through the windshield and took out the driver, but—”
“Are the hostages hurt?”
“It’s Heath,” Briar answered. “He’s down.”
The blood drained from Chloe’s face. She shoved the radio into her pocket and yanked out her phone, frantically texting Amber.
“Chloe,” Trinity said in her ear before she could get the message off. “On my mark.”
“Not now,” she whispered to herself, her gut a giant block of ice. Heath was down. How bad was he hurt?
“Five. Four. Three.”
No. No, no, no, she couldn’t do this. What was happening with Heath?
“Two. One. Go.”
Clamping her jaw shut, she shoved the phone into her pocket and hit the button. The concussion of the blast a block over reverberated in her ears.
Heath. Please be okay…
She tucked the detonator stick away and drew her pistol, torn, and sick with worry. The others didn’t know what was happening. And it was too late to stop this now. She was desperate to know what was happening with Heath. Everything in her screamed to drop everything and go to him.
You can’t leave the others. They’re counting on you.
Kiyomi and Marcus were about to enter Tarasov’s private lair, not knowing exactly what they would be up against inside. They needed backup, and while Marcus had served in the most elite unit in the British military, his physical limitations meant Chloe couldn’t leave them to face this on their own.
The front and side doors of Tarasov’s place flew open. Three men raced out, running across to the burning garage.
Her mind filled with images of Heath. Lying crushed beneath the vehicle. Or lying broken and bleeding on the ground. Maybe dying.
Oh God, I can’t do this.
“Now,” Trinity commanded. A heartbeat later, Marcus and Kiyomi appeared around the side of the house, weapons up as they raced for the open doorway.
“Chloe, go,” Trinity ordered.
Heath…
But she had no choice. She had to stay.
“Goddamn it.” Her choked whisper clogged in her throat as she shoved up and bolted from cover, terror for the man she loved filling her with every step.
LUKA PAUSED WITH the china coffee cup partway to his mouth, his attention on his phone screen. He’d been checking it every few minutes for the past half an hour, with no luck. And now worry pricked at the back of his neck.
Will was late checking in about the pick-up. He should have sent word by now.
Setting his phone down, Luka continued drinking his coffee, only half his attention on the newspaper in front of him. He had too much on his mind. Today was a massively important one for his business. There were a lot of moving parts to keep track of, too many things to monitor at once, and it made him feel scattered.
The timing was critical. Breaking protocol, he had two women at the warehouse right now, being guarded while his men waited for the buyers to show.
Luka wanted them all gone from the warehouse before Will’s new target was brought in. Cleaner that way. Less chance of any fuck-ups, and he couldn’t risk two buyers coming into contact. Guaranteeing his clients’ privacy was paramount.
He jumped in his seat when a loud boom suddenly shook the air, making the house rattle and spilling his coffee into the saucer. Heart thumping, he whirled to face his bodyguard, standing across the room. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded in Russian.
“I don’t know.” Face grim, Ivan turned and rushed out of the room.
Luka jumped up and followed on Ivan’s heels, heading for his office in the basement.
One of his other men came running down the hall toward them. “What happened?” Luka demanded.
“There’s been an explosion.”
He drew his brows together in a menacing frown. “No shit. Where?”
“The garage. It’s on fire.”
What the fuck? All his cars were in there. Over a million pounds’ worth of vehicles.
“I’ve sent three men to try to contain it.”
Fury burned hot in his gut. No way this was some freak coincidence. Someone had targeted him. Taunting him. Was there another attack coming? “Stay here and guard the doors,” he said to the man.
“People will have called 999. We don’t have much time. We need to get you out of here.”
Luka let out a stream of curses. “Stall them.” When the cops came, he needed to be out of sight.
Leaving the man to do his bidding, Luka and Ivan ran down the stairs to the basement and shoved open the door to the office. One of the computer screens mounted on the wall showed the exterior security camera feeds, including coverage of the garage.
Sure as hell, orange flames were pouring out of the shattered windows of his state-of-the-art garage. All his vehicles would be lost in a blaze like that.
He leaned forward to curl his tattooed hands around the edge of the desk, the muscles in his arms and shoulders knotting. “Find out who did this,” he growled, and Ivan immediately left.