The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection With EXCLUSIVE Post-Shiva Short Story (88 page)

They were
in
the building.

Which was the first good news they had. If they had been outside the mall, there would have been no way to provide cover fire. But if they were shooting from the second floor, the fuckers could be shot at. From what Brandt remembered of the crowd’s dispersal rate, the nearest exit was a good thirty yards down the shooting gallery. Cover fire wasn’t going to get them that far.

“Harvish, you are going to run catty-corner to the shop across the way while I provide cover, then you’ll provide cover for us.”

The point man nodded, pulling away from Rebecca as she finished tying the bandage on his arm. He flexed it, testing it. “You know it, Sarge.”

“Looks like they’re shooting from the upper level to the east.”

“Got it,” Harvish answered, pulling out both his guns. “On my mark.”

Counting down by bobbing his head, when he got to three, Harvish fired into the mall before hauling ass out there. Brandt was on his six, firing up and over the point man as he sped across the kill zone. Chunks of tile flew up as the sniper’s bullet hit the floor, ghosting Harvish’s footsteps.

Once Harvish crashed into the store’s door and found safety inside, Brandt lunged backward, barely missing a bullet to the shoulder. That fucking sniper was good. Able to realign with incredible accuracy. And his instincts? It was like he was fucking reading Brandt’s mind.

Which just meant Brandt had to up his game. Again.

He turned to the women. “Our turn.”

* * *

Bunny physically blanched next to Rebecca. She knew exactly how the younger woman felt. Rebecca had learned though that it didn’t help to let your blood pressure drop and your extremities go numb. Best to just suck it up.

Grabbing Bunny’s hand, Rebecca nodded to Brandt. Where he led, she would make sure they followed.

Brandt counted down with his fingers for Harvish, who on
three
sprayed bullets down the mall’s long central hallway. Crouched, Brandt rushed forward, firing as well. Rebecca tugged on Bunny, keeping her close, but as they were about to step into the empty aisle, Brandt urged her forward toward the next store on their side. As the sound of gunfire rattled around in her brain, Rebecca made it to the door and hustled Bunny through it.

She looked back to find strafe marks across the tile floor moving in the opposite direction as Brandt rushed in after them. They fled to the back of the store. Rebecca tripped over a display of high heels, tumbling into a rack of stilettos. She landed next to the checkout counter that proudly proclaimed, “Prada.”

Not how she wanted to be introduced to the brand.

“But we’re on the wrong side,” Bunny exclaimed.

Rebecca indicated toward the wide aisle, at the chinks in the tile. “If we’d followed Harvish, that would have been us.”

The realization that they would have been cut down a quarter of the way across the passage darkened Bunny’s face. Tears sprang but the younger woman didn’t cry. They were alive, and that was going to have to be good enough.

Even though Brandt was married to another woman, Rebecca could almost kiss him on the lips. The sergeant had outmaneuvered the sniper, buying them precious seconds.

“What’s next?” she asked.

Brandt didn’t answer. Instead he frowned as sirens wailed outside.

Maybe she’d better wait on that kiss.

* * *

Brandt could see hope dim in Rebecca’s eyes. But what did he have to offer her to make her feel like he had any kind of plan to be hopeful in? He’d cheated the sniper this time. The guy wouldn’t be so easily fooled next time. They had at least three more shops to get past
and
cross the divide to the exit. Then pray the
politsiya
were not right outside the door.

They were pinned. Which is why he had left two goddamned men on the outside. Where the fuck were they?

As if his prayers were answered, a loud sound approached. The rotors of a helicopter. Taking a chance that the sniper was equally distracted, Brandt inched from his hiding place and looked through the glass ceiling. There was a helicopter alright, but a brand spanking new Russian KA-52—the white, blue, and red striped flag painted on the fuselage confirmed his fear. So much for prayer.

The cutting-edge helicopter was double-rotored. However, it wasn’t the classic side-by-side blades. Instead, these two rotors were stacked on top of one another. Plus the muscle machine had two mounted machine guns forward and had missile capabilities to boot.

If a KA-52 was here, the Russians meant business.

But maybe that was a good thing. The advanced helicopter hovered over the east end of the mall. Perhaps that would give them the cover they needed to cross—

A bullet zinging past Brandt’s ear kind of put a crimp in that idea.

Damn it, if only—

The helicopter lowered over the domed glass ceiling. The sound shaking the building. Or was it the wheels of the chopper? Yep, the helicopter was basically bouncing off the steel-reinforced roof. What was the pilot playing at?

Then the helicopter pulled up and away. Maybe the chopper was here only for surveillance. Then it tilted nearly vertical, firing on the ceiling. Glass exploded inward as shattered steel rained down.

Jaw dropped, Brandt watched the helicopter plunge into the opening, flying into the mall. Only then did Brandt realize that his prayers really were answered as a very familiar dark face smiled broadly from the pilot’s seat.

Lopez.

Then the corporal spun the chopper around, shattering store windows with the helo’s tail. Even if Brandt hadn’t recognized Lopez, he’d have known it was him. No one else was this incredibly stupid.

Then those machine guns turned on the sniper’s nest, firing over a hundred rounds a second.

Strike the stupid part. Lopez deserved a fucking medal.

* * *

Aunush dove to the back of the Louis Vuitton store as a hail of bullets burst from the craft. That was not the Russians. She rolled onto her back, firing as rapidly as her handgun would allow. Aunush would love to believe it was one of her shots that cracked the helicopter’s windshield, but she knew it to be her sniper’s. His gun was not best suited for fighting off a chopper, but he still had saved their lives once again.

The helicopter jerked to the right, getting out of their direct line of sight. It would be back though, and Aunush had no intention of still being here.

Without hesitation, she shot out the scalloped window at the back of the store. Not having any line, she grabbed hanger after hanger of wool pants, and tied them cuff to cuff. Behind her, the sniper had moved to a more forward position in the store. Leaning out from cover long enough to get a few shots off, then ducking behind the large mannequin display.

Securing perhaps the most expensive length of rope, Aunush let out a whistle.

The sniper backed slowly, still taking his random shots to keep the enemy off balance until he stood shoulder to shoulder with her. He couldn’t stop firing. Not if they had any hope of making it out the window without several dozen bullet holes in them. And she liked her figure just the way it was. Rapidly she tied a pant leg around his waist, then lashed herself to him.

He did not even look down as she snugged the fabric. Aunush climbed onto the ledge. Balancing there, she guided the sniper up, as he fired all the while. The helicopter rose up despite the cover fire and turned straight toward the store.

Aunush pushed off the ledge. She and the sniper tumbled backward into the night. Her only hope was that the clothes were as well constructed as the price indicated.

* * *

Rebecca’s thighs complained as they mounted the steps up to the second floor of the mall to rendezvous with Lopez and his crazy looking helicopter. The thing looked more like a fighter jet only without the wings.

The group charged out of the stairwell only to find guns pointed at them. Harvish aimed as he skidded to a stop. Had it really been too much to ask that they just made it to their chopper and out of this damned shopping mall without being shot at?

Apparently it was.

The two attackers wore ski masks. Weird. The men in Pushchino hadn’t worn anything to conceal their identity. It was almost as if they were so certain of their victory that they didn’t care if their faces were seen or recognized. Plus, these masked men had an epicanthal fold at the medial canthus of their eyes. A typically northern Chinese trait. She’d seen several of the attackers at Pushchino way too close for comfort. They’d had higher foreheads, dark hair, with prominent nasal ridges.

No matter, these two almond-eyed men stood between them and the chopper.

Brandt took a step forward. “Move aside.”

But they didn’t. And why should they? It was two guns against two guns. And with the stairwell wall blocking the central aisle, there was no way Lopez and his snazzy helicopter could help out.

Maybe she spoke too soon as the wall rumbled, then cracked. Brandt hurried them away from the splintering plaster. He pushed her and Bunny down, covering them with his back as the wall exploded inward.

Shielding her eyes, Rebecca watched the upper rotors of the helicopter grind through the wall. The chopper was ninety degrees vertical, pushing its blades through the structure. With a pained scream of metal the upper rotor broke off, skipping off the railing and then down the walkway, scattering the two masked men.

“Move!” Brandt yelled. She snatched Bunny’s hand as they sprinted out of the stairwell and onto the second floor concourse. Harvish was close behind, firing at the retreating men.

Wobbling, the chopper righted itself and joined the firefight. The masked men retreated down the stairwell and out of sight. Brandt kept them running forward, clearly not wanting to take any chances. They raced past hair salons and perfume stores.

Finally Brandt pulled them to a stop and circled his arm over his head. Immediately the helicopter tilted back, streaking toward them. Still firing toward the stairwell, the door on the side of the chopper opened. Talli nodded from the copilot seat.

“In,” Brandt ordered Harvish.

The point man crawled into the incredibly tiny hold of the helicopter. He had to lie flat to fit. Without needing a bit of urging, Bunny leaped in after him, cramming herself as far back as she could get.

Brandt helped Rebecca into the hold, but she could only fit half of her thunder thighs.

“Bend at the waist,” he urged, indicating to what seemed like way too small a space at the upper end.

Somehow Rebecca emulated a Cirque du Soleil performer and crammed herself into the cramped space. It wasn’t until Brandt gave her a sad smile that she realized there was no way his wide shoulders were going to fit.

“Sarge, I can stay behind,” Harvish suggested as he tried to shimmy past Bunny.

Brandt shook his head, putting his hand on the hatch door. “Just keep them safe.”

“No!” Rebecca screamed, but the sergeant closed the hatch door, locking it. Her fist beat against the solid metal. “No!”

No, they couldn’t leave him behind. She wouldn’t accept it. She couldn’t.

But the helicopter pulled away from the stone railing and then sped forward. Everyone was thrown back as Lopez seriously put on the gas or whatever you did to a helicopter.

“No,” she sobbed. How could Lopez leave Brandt? How could he?

In the dark Bunny’s hand found hers. The younger woman gave it a squeeze.

“He’ll figure out a way.”

Brave words. Rebecca desperately wanted to believe them, only how exactly could Brandt fulfill them?

* * *

The wind whisked through Brandt’s hair, screaming in his ear. Which only made him wrap his arms tighter around the helicopter’s front wheel strut. His legs bracing against the rear wheel’s struts, his belly tight against the underside of the chopper. But even with this hold he feared that Lopez’s tight bank might dislodge him.

Brandt could feel the heat of the church’s fire as they flew over St. Basil’s toward the Big Moscow River. Their escape nearly complete. The only problem. Another masked man stood at the center of the bridge with an RPG launcher on his shoulder.

Upside down it was a little hard to tell who the fucker was, but he was about blow them out of the sky. Then the man’s body shuddered before he crumpled to the ground, the grenade launcher tumbling away harmlessly.

Brandt fought the wind to look to his right. He found Davidson perched within a golden-domed tower on the Kremlin’s wall. How the hell had he gotten in there? More importantly, how the hell was he getting out of there? Scattered police fire from the ground below streaked past them. The scarred man saluted Brandt, seeming resigned to being captured.

Lopez angled toward the gilded tower, although tentatively. As if giving Brandt time to nix the idea. Damn it. Davidson had saved their lives like five times already. Carefully Brandt released one hand and pounded on the helicopter’s belly, twice for yes. Brandt’s hand flew back to grip the strut as Lopez wasted no time, leaning the chopper toward the Kremlin.

Within moments they hovered next to the tower. They took some fire from the guards, but Davidson, more nimble than his injuries should have allowed him, leaped from the window of the dome and onto the chopper’s gun strut. Lean and light, the metal held his weight like it never would have done for Brandt.

The helicopter tilted back to the left, hard, trying to keep the chopper between the two exposed men and the Russian guards down below.

Wobbling, with only one rotor, too heavily loaded and listing nearly horizontal, Brandt’s team flew out and over Moscow’s skyline.

* * *

Aunush’s ankle protested each time she put weight on it, but she ignored its shrill warnings. Then the sniper wrapped his arm around her waist and urged her to lean into him. At first she resisted, but then realized his ruse.

Not having to exaggerate at all, Aunush limped along beside him. After killing the only witnesses to their escape, they had left behind their weapons. All of their weapons. She felt naked as they joined the chaos of the crowd behind the shopping mall.