Chapter Twenty-Three
The broken front door signaled at least one man—but the Sons rarely traveled solo. That meant two men, and two out of the seven could still be there…
Liam ran through the door, a red haze filling his vision. The battle rage was an old friend, he knew how to use it. And right now, he wanted to beat the hell out of someone.
“What the…” A man came into sight, stepping out into the hall from the kitchen. He wore a dark green military-style parka, a woolen cap on his head.
Liam braced himself with a hand on each side of the hall and kicked the merc with both feet in the chest, the cleats from the underside of the snowshoes ripping holes in the parka.
The man fell back as Liam whipped his combat knife free from his boot and lunged forward. He twisted the knife around at the last second to smash the handle into the side of the trespasser’s head.
The merc fell with a loud grunt, collapsing on the kitchen tile floor.
One down.
Liam reached down and flipped the release on the snowshoe bindings, stepping out to leave them on the floor.
He pressed himself against the wall, knife in hand, as he put all of his senses on high alert. His other hand slipped down to pull the taser free.
There.
A faint scratching reached his ears, coming from down the hall.
The bedroom.
Liam pulled the taser from his belt with his left hand as he moved along, choosing each step with care.
“Hey, Phil. Looks like the asshole was banging the sweet li’l thing pretty regularly.”
Liam stepped into the doorway and glared at the short, stout man pawing through the bedside table drawers. The merc wore the same parka as the first man, marking him as one of the Sons.
“I tell ya, if McKay leaves anything of her, I might consider taking a piece…” The merc froze.
Liam caught his reflection in the mirror at the other side of the room.
Busted.
He lunged at the man as the invader spun around, pistol in hand.
Kara gasped as she heard the two gunshots ring out, echoing around the parking lot. She took one step forward, then back again as she fought with herself.
Go.
Stay.
She crouched behind the dumpster, watching. The pain of staying still was almost overwhelming, the ache in her heart growing with each second.
I’ll kill them all. Helheim will welcome me with open arms after this.
She charged the doorway, readying the baton. A good, hard smash to the head then…
A figure appeared in her way, stopping her in her tracks.
“You’re not very good at taking orders, are you?”
She ran to him, dropping the baton in the snow as she hugged him. “I thought… I heard…”
“One had a gun. Didn’t work out for him.”
It was then that she spotted the growing crimson stain on his upper left arm, the parka torn and bloody.
“Your arm…”
Liam pulled her inside. “Can’t be standing out here. The gunshots might bring more of them out of the hotel—we can’t risk that.” He looked at the wound as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh, that. Just a graze.”
She stood in the hallway, unsure she’d ever see this apartment in the same way. “Did you…” She hesitated, unsure if speaking the words would make it more real.
“I didn’t kill them. I knocked the first one out—the second got a taser. Jabbed him in the throat like a vampire.” He pressed two fingers to his throat. “Only open spot. Bastard missed me, or I thought he did.”
“Oh thank the goddess.” She slumped against him. “What were they doing?”
“Going through our stuff, looking for information on who I am. Who I was,” he corrected himself. Liam motioned her on. “We have to tie them up and interrogate the one guy before we leave. Taser should be wearing off soon—got to move fast.”
“Leave?” She followed him through the kitchen, stepping over the unconscious man.
“We can’t take them back to the police station. And I’m sure as hell not going to let them go.” He went into the bedroom and straight to the closet, pulling out a bundle of rope.
“Why the hell do you have that?” She stood over the second man, noting the barbs still stuck in his throat.
Liam smirked. “I’ll show you some knots someday. But for now, we’ll use it on them.” He used his knife to cut off a long strand. “Can you handle this one?”
“With pleasure.” She grabbed the piece of rope. “Then what?”
“First things first.” Liam strode into the hallway. “Make sure it’s tight. Don’t want either of them escaping.”
She dragged the semi-conscious man to the bottom of their bed and used the wooden post as a back, pressing him up against it and tying him securely. The barbs came out with a tug, the bleeding limited as she searched his pockets, making sure he had no hidden items he might use to escape.
“Got a cell phone here. No signal. And a walkie-talkie.” She studied the device as she stood up.
“Their only way to communicate since they cut the wires and killed the land lines as well as the cell towers,” Liam called out.
The merc’s eyes shot open.
She jumped back out of reach as he tugged at the ropes holding him secure. “Liam!”
Liam ran in and stopped still, seeing the now-conscious man. “Other guy’s tied to the coffee table.” He nodded as he studied the bound criminal. “He’s awake. Good. Let’s get started.”
He knelt and yanked the parka’s zipper down, letting the body heat escape into the cold air. “First, chill out. Not good for you to be so excited after such a traumatic event. Don’t want you overheating.”
The man’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You think you’re going to scare me?”
“No.” Liam drew out his boot knife in a slow, measured movement. He angled the blade to catch the dim light. “I know I am.” He turned toward Kara. “Go check on the other punk. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Beads of sweat formed on the man’s forehead despite the dropping temperature.
She looked at Liam, eyes wide.
He winked at her, so quick she might have missed it if she hadn’t been staring at him.
“You don’t want to see this.” He twisted around to smile at the trapped man. “It might get messy.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll search the other jerk while you do your thing.” It was hard to not smile. “Don’t forget, if he screams too loudly…”
“Won’t be an issue.” Liam grinned. “Can’t scream if you don’t have a tongue.”
Kara walked out, heading for the living room.
The second intruder was tied to the coffee table, spread eagled with his parka zipped up, wool cap jammed on the man’s head.
She saw their own first aid kit lying on the floor, a bandage wrapping tossed aside.
A muffled shout came from the other room, and she shuddered, her imagination running wild. Liam may have sworn off his savage ways, but these were tough men…
Kara busied herself with checking on the second mercenary, making sure his bonds were tight without cutting off the circulation. She heard other sounds but pushed them aside—Liam knew what he was doing.
A few moments later, she heard a door close and familiar steps in the hallway.
Liam appeared, clutching his knife. It was clean and pristine without any sign of being used.
“Right. The Sons have taken everyone in the hotel hostage—after they found McKay, they knew their cover was blown. Dragged them all down to the lobby and interrogated them. That’s how they got this address.”
“Lizzie…” She gasped, thinking of the senior.
“She’s fine, for now. They’ve changed their plan. Now it’s a waiting game. They’re assuming we’re snowed in, as they are—or we’re on the road to Denver.”
She sat on the edge of the couch, her mind spinning. “But now they’ve taken hostages. This kicks it up to a new level.”
He nodded. “Yes. Not so subtle anymore. But like I said before—they don’t get paid to kill civilians, so the people there are safe for the time being. The plan’s changing on the fly—our man back there wasn’t in on all of it. His job was to come here, see if they could get the jump on us. Confirmed there’s only seven of them.”
“Great.” She eyed him. “How badly did you hurt him?”
Liam chuckled. “Hardly at all. Never discount the power of psychological warfare.” He paused, seeing her frown. “I screwed with his mind. Covered his eyes, Put the cold knife to his neck, snarled and cursed. Between that and my old reputation, it was enough to break him.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Really?”
“I may have added some physical encouragement,” he admitted. “But he’s alive, unharmed, and that’s what counts.”
Liam held up another radio. “Found this as well as his own phone. Nothing else, no identification. Usual MO for these guys—the phones are burners, purchased just before driving into town.”
“Do you know who they are?”
Liam shook his head. “No. Don’t want to, either.” He studied his watch. “We’ve been here too long already—let’s put the door back up and go before they start getting calls asking where they are.”
“Go? Where?”
“They visit our home, we visit theirs.”
He was making this up on the fly and it showed—the only advantage he had right now over the Sons was that he knew the town and they didn’t. McKay’s short recon couldn’t have given them much more than a general layout and a handful of names before the storm shut the Ridge down. The merc he’d questioned hadn’t been able to give him much—not surprising, from what he knew of the Sons. The man was a recent addition to the team and expendable, which was why he was sent to the apartment.
Still…
In a perfect world he’d be on the adjoining rooftop with his sniper rifle, scanning them through the window and waiting for the best time to shoot, hostages be damned. If some civilians died, it wasn’t his problem—not unless he’d been paid to keep them alive, and that wasn’t a common scenario for the Hammer.
Except that man didn’t exist anymore.
They arrived at the front of the three-story building nearest the hotel, the back alley the same they’d used previously to deal with McKay. Liam eyed the closed door before digging out his lockpick gun.
“Pray this isn’t frozen solid,” he murmured as he began to work on the door.
“What is this place?” Kara asked.
“Offices. Accountants, travel agent on the second floor, and the antique shop on the first. Everyone packed up last month. Grimes went to Florida to visit his family, Jenna Kardan left for an ocean cruise, and the antique shop owner went home to Denver for the season.” He bent down and blew into the keyhole before trying again.
“Want me to try?” She wet her lips in anticipation, the simple gesture shooting straight to his cock despite the situation.
“You do that, and I won’t be able to walk straight.” The answering clicks of the tumblers helped banish that tantalizing vision. “There.”
He put his shoulder to the door, pushing it just wide enough for them to slip inside, the snow falling inside to melt on the floor.
“Close it,” Liam ordered. “We don’t want to damage the building too much.”
“Bossy,” she answered but she pushed the door shut. “Now what?”
“The stairwell over there.” He gestured to the left. “Up to the roof. Take your snowshoes off but keep them handy—we’ll need them later.”
As they trudged up the steps, Liam had to speak, say something to tamp down his nervousness at having her along. “What is going to happen with you later, after the Sons are dead and the Valkyries come to drag their sorry asses to Helheim? Do you fly away, or…”
She shook her head. “I have no idea.” She leaned in and kissed him. “But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than right here, right now with you.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you.” Liam pulled the door open, snow falling in around their feet. The crisp, cold air swirled around them, stealing the warmth they’d gained from climbing up the stairwell.
“Shoes back on again.” He dropped his pair on the floor and fastened them up before reaching into his backpack and handing her one collapsible shovel, gripping his own. “We’re going to have to dig a path out to the edge of the roof. No use exposing ourselves more than we need to, and we can lie down to hide completely. Total silence.”
“They’re on the top floor,” she said. “They’ll spot us.”
“Not likely.” Liam put as much confidence into his voice as possible. “Odds are the Sons are already on the ground floor after forcing all the hostages into one spot—probably the lobby. They’ll be watching them while trying to dig themselves out, along with raiding everyone’s food supplies. I can’t say it’s impossible for them to look out and see us, but better than trying to charge in the front door.”
“How long before they realize their buddies are gone?” She touched her pocket where one of the walkie-talkies sat. “Only five of them now.”
“We’ve got about an hour or so, I figure. The men were supposed to go to our place, search it and return. Can’t do that in a few minutes, not in this weather. But they won’t get unlimited time, either. Their leader’ll be watching the clock—when they don’t show, he’ll get concerned.”
It took them some time to dig their way out onto the roof, the long trench leading to the edge of the building. Finally, they lay on their bellies, looking across and down at the front of the hotel.
The sounds reached her ears just as she was about to whisper a question.
Cursing. Loud, obnoxious, cursing.
Liam motioned her forward and they peered over the edge. Jamie stood on the porch with a snow shovel trying to clean it off.
Next to him stood McKay, his bandaged nose showing the results of their previous meeting. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he held a gun on the inn owner and let loose another string of oaths as Jamie struggled to make progress, pushing foot after foot of snow to the side.
“I can’t believe this shit.” McKay’s voice rose to them, breaking the silence. “Who the fuck lives here with all this damned snow?”
“We like it,” Jamie said.
That earned him a cuff to the head by the armed man, the pistol waving in the early morning light. “Thanks, asshole. When I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you. Right now, you need to dig us the hell out, so we can find the Hammer.”
“I don’t…” Jamie fell silent as McKay raised his hand again.
Another man came onto the porch, taking the little bit of space that had been cleared. He stood at least six feet tall, his black hair in a military-style buzzcut. The leather jacket was well worn in places, patches holding it together.
“Rick Landsdowne. The leader,” Liam whispered. “Been doing this for a decade or so. Hasn’t changed much from last time I saw him.”
“How could you let them go?” Rick snarled at the scout. “One damned girl and you fold like a piece of toilet paper.”
“She was fast.”
“Obviously.” Rick pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing smoke rings into the air. “Word from Dylan is their truck never made it to Denver. So, either they’re stuck on the road somewhere or still here in town. Problem is, we don’t get paid until we verify his body and send a photograph back home.” He studied the smoldering tip. “If he’s on the road, the plows will find him and bring him back to town—we can get him then. But if he’s not…” He took a deep drag before continuing.
He eyed Jamie. “You haul your ass back inside and make up some breakfast. Frank’ll escort you to your apartment, stay with you until you’re done. Lots of eggs and bacon.”
Jamie nodded and backed away.
“Ryan’s late calling in. He’s never late.” Rick glared at McKay. “You said you cut the girl. How bad?”
McKay shook his head. “It was deep. Would have needed stitches, at the least. Put her out of action for a few days, if not more.”
The mercenary leader grunted.
“Do you want me to grab somebody, go on out to the apartment?” McKay asked.
“No. If they met the Hammer, they’re likely dead. If they’d killed him, they’d be calling in to collect the bonus.”
“You don’t think Wolfson left town.”
“I think you better finish your smoke and start digging.” He gave the shovel to the henchman.
“Damn.” Liam ducked back down, crouching next to Kara. He let out his breath, a white puff of smoke in the frigid air. “If Marie doesn’t make it back today…”
“We took out two. There’s five left,” Kara said. “The odds are turning in our favor.”
Liam leaned in and kissed her, the hot passionate move leaving her breathless. “Spoken like a true warrior princess.” He glanced across the way. “And a chance to take out one more. Rick’s sending one of the men up with Jamie to his apartment to make breakfast. That’s our chance.”
“How?”
“Via that window.” He picked out one of the snow-encrusted panes across from them. “It’s a floor above Jamie’s place.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d announced he was Thor and about to call in Mjolnir, his hammer.
“And how do you propose to do that? You smash through that, and it’ll be like setting off a fire alarm.”
“Not if something else breaks at the same time.” He showed her the confiscated pistol. “You don’t have to be accurate with this.” Liam pointed to the left. “When I make my move, you fire this down at the bottom floor, the window at the corner. It’ll break at the same time and hopefully cover my entrance.”
“Is anyone there?” She looked at the weapon, wishing desperately for her lance. “Any chance I’ll hit someone by mistake?”
“Not likely—it’s a storage room, stacked high with supplies like firewood and extra blankets. They wouldn’t keep the hostages there, they’d want to keep them in plain sight in the lobby. But the noise will draw their attention there while I’m up on the third floor. I’ll climb down the fire escape into the alley and make my way back to you. Increase our odds for success.”
“And Jamie?”
He hesitated, his forehead furrowing as he thought.
She touched his arm, gloved fingers settling on the thick parka stuffing. “I understand you want to take them out. But we have to think about the hostages, all of them. What will they do to Jamie if you leave him behind in the apartment?”
“I can bring him out with me.” The confident tone didn’t brush away all of her fear.
“Who knows what the Sons will do to the other civilians if they lose a hostage, along with one of their own?” She shook her head. “You want to do something to hurt them, and I agree with that. But we have to think about the hostages and keeping them alive and well.”
“Fuck.” The curse hung in the air for a second before dissipating. He shook his head. “I’m not used to this. Saving people, I mean.”
“I know.” She could see the tension in his jaw, the annoyance at the situation coming through. Kara touched his cheek. “We’ll do what we can.”
“Yes, we will.” He picked up his backpack and gestured at a nearby old antenna, the worn and rusted metal lying to one side. “But we’re not going to leave without dropping off a souvenir.”
Liam dug into his backpack, coming up with a small thin cylinder and a roll of duct tape. He went to the warped wires and attached the slender stick, anchoring the rod to the metal framework.
“What’s that?”
“A way for us to listen in. Made this myself, years ago, using some stolen tech.” He tapped the stick. “Wireless receiver, instant surveillance. We’ll be able to hear what they say via the receiver here in the pack.”
“At this distance?” She resisted the urge to peer over the edge. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He edged the antenna up through the snow, the tip extending out into empty space. “Need the extra weight to keep anchored. But we’ll hear everything, from someone walking by on snowshoes to the conversation on the front steps.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He grinned. “This is actually the perfect weather for it. A camera would be too big hanging over the edge, it’d be seen as soon as they looked up. The little tip, that’s easy to overlook. This’ll give us a way to hear what they’re talking about when they come out for a smoke or fresh air.”
She couldn’t hide her smile. “What else do you have in that trunk back at the apartment?”
Liam chuckled, lightening the weight on her heart. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He waved a hand toward the stairwell. “Let’s go.”