Feeling more than helpless, I was motived to go to any length to destroy the man who had done this to Blaire. I moved out into the yard. Sticking to the shadows, I sprinted toward the building where the shot had come from.
All my men had their weapons focused on the abandoned building. They were covering me enough that I could get inside.
I tried to clear my mind of the fact that I had left Blaire holding her grandfather while he bled out into the dirt.
Focus. I looked around. If I were the sniper and this were my job, and I had just hit my target, I would not wait around. He had probably packed up and was moving toward a hidden getaway vehicle. I sprinted through the main part of the empty warehouse. When I got through the doors on the other side, I saw the red glow of taillights right before they disappeared around a bend.
Blaire’s grandfather was dying.
And the person who had shot him had just gotten away.
I picked up an old metal can and heaved it across the cavernous floor.
“Fuck,” I yelled at no one in particular. “Fucking fuck fuck.”
I wanted to scream out my rage at the injustice of it all. I now had Blaire’s grandfather’s blood on my hands, and the only person I had to blame was myself.
One of my team members cautiously approached me from the side. “Did he get away?”
“Yes.” He’d be dead if he hadn’t.
“Andrusha thought it’d be a good idea to lock up the live weapons before the cops get here.”
I let out a low breath. “Good idea.”
“Want me to take your rifle?”
Without speaking, I handed my guns off to him. He disappeared back into the shadows, and I slowly moved through the building, dreading to see Blaire.
I had completely and catastrophically failed her. Every single thing I had done for her this past week meant nothing because of this outcome. Even worse, we had been so close to success. And, as a final blow, she had to witness her beloved grandfather get shot.
There was no way she would ever forgive me. My chance at redemption had slipped through my fingers.
This was the end.
Suddenly, every part of me hurt. So much. It was like all the adrenaline and focus had drained out of my body and I was left with only pain and regret.
I could hear the sirens approach. I stood in the middle of the yard and watched as police cars drew up with their flashing lights. Then the police were getting out and taking a stance behind their doors with their weapons drawn.
My entire team had moved into a straight line to flank me. Including Andrusha.
“On your knees. Hands on the back of your head,” the police screamed at us, pointing their weapons at us. “Face on the ground.”
In a humiliating end to my failure, I slowly dropped to my knees. I hurt so much I could barely get my hands over my head. When two cops approached and bent me over to push my face down, I took one last look at Blaire. She was sitting on the ground, hunched over her grandfather, rocking him as she cried.
I made eye contact with Andrusha. He slowly shook his head.
Blaire’s grandfather was dead. And it was my fault.
Two hours later, we were still trying to unsnarl ourselves from the accusing glare of the police. I spent an hour walking a forensic analyst and two detectives through our approach. Then two detectives grilled me for another hour.
They didn’t seem to believe that we had saved the grandfather using nonlethal measures, but they didn’t have any evidence to prove otherwise. They did manage to find a casing from a sniper rifle in one of the windows from the building next door—but they still seemed determined to pin his death on us.
“Don’t leave town,” one of the detectives told me.
I found Andrusha at the van.
He studied me. “You okay?”
I ignored his question as I took off my plated vest. “Where is she?”
“The detectives are trying to speak to her.”
I was well aware that I had not only kidnapped her, taken her across international lines and committed multiple felonies in multiple countries, but I had also failed her. If she told them the truth, I would go to jail for a long time. And the worst part was I probably deserved it. “Okay.”
“She’s refusing to speak to them until she talks to her grandmother and tells her what happened.”
What happened was the old guy had died on my watch. If I hadn’t tried to rescue him, he might still be alive. She told me to call the police. Would it have made a difference if I had? I felt like I didn’t fit inside my skin anymore. Everything felt wrong and painfully uncomfortable. “Before we went on site, why didn’t we search the surrounding buildings?”
Andrusha looked at me critically. “We addressed the primary threat—the men who were holding Asterdam.”
“We should have cleared those buildings.” I could barely contain my sheer frustration at myself. It was spilling out.
Andrusha gave me a steady look. “We had a ticking clock. Drake told you that it was only a matter of hours before they figured out their information wasn’t coming and gave the kill order. We were outmanned and outgunned. We needed to have the element of surprise on our side. And we had no idea how quickly people would figure out that Drake was dead. We didn’t have time, and we were prioritizing for the best outcome.”
“Drake told me this sniper was coming for me.” I looked at Andrusha, feeling sick to my stomach over all of this. “I basically brought the guy to the door.”
“Maybe, but we both believed that if the sniper was around, he would make you the target, not anyone else.”
My jaw tightened at the truth of that statement.
“Don’t forget that this entire mess got dropped in our laps without our consent,” he added. “You didn’t make a single call tonight that I wouldn’t have made myself.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt like the walking dead. “How is she doing?”
“She’s hurting pretty bad. She’s been asking for you.”
I tried to imagine having to face her after her loss, knowing I was responsible. “No.”
“You sure that’s the route you want to go?”
“Leave it. Are we free to go?”
“One of us should accompany her home, at least until she is joined by her legal team.”
I stared straight ahead. I could do just about anything in the world, but at this moment, the idea of facing her pain was an impossible thought. “Good idea. Can you do that for me?”
“You want me to drive her home?”
I nodded, too ashamed to look at him. I already felt like a broken man. To see her anguish would completely destroy me. “I have something I need to take care of.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. I braced myself for whatever truth might come out of his mouth, but he went easy on me. “The doctor is waiting at the office for you.”
“Don’t need him.” I didn’t deserve to be healed. I didn’t deserve to be put out of my pain. Tonight, this pain was my punishment. For not being able to save the person she loved so much.
“This isn’t your fault, you know that?”
This time, I did turn and look at him. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR