Chapter Twenty-Seven

The bravado in her voice was a mixture of faith and hope with a dash of sarcasm mixed in—he’d grown to love that about her. It was what they needed right now, facing down very bad odds.

But still…

“You shouldn’t be here,” Liam groused as they landed on the main floor. “I sent you away to be safe.”

She gripped his arm and pulled him around to face her. “Mother Freyja sent me back for a reason, and it wasn’t to see you die.” The faith in her words filled the hole inside his soul created when she’d gone. “She does nothing without a purpose.”

“And what’s your purpose?” he asked. “Did she send you back to collect my soul if I die?”

Kara looked away. “Maybe. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me what to do. She only told me to fly.”

“Maybe you’re here for the Sons, like you first thought.” He smiled. “I like that reason better.”

“But after that, I’ll be gone—back to Valhalla.” She whispered the words like a curse. “And you’ll be here, left behind.”

He fought past the lump in his throat. “You’ll be where you’re supposed to be. When it’s my time, I’ll hopefully be joining you.” He studied his watch. “Speaking of…”

“Won’t they notice McKay’s gone and search for him?”

“I’m sure they will. Then I’ve put a bit of the fear of the Hammer into them—psychological warfare.” He pulled her in for another fast kiss. “I’ll draw them out into the street. You go in as fast as you can and get everyone to safety.”

He glanced down at her feet. “Here. Take my snowshoes. I can plow through the snow until I arrive at the front of the hotel. Odds are they’ll have enough space cleared to confront me—the Sons like to put on a show for themselves, do a little grandstanding when they think the odds are in their favor. Go around the side and wait until all their attention is focused on me, then climb in one of the windows.”

He handed her a metal strip before she could object. “Use this. Slip it under the wood and twist it to flip the latch open—it’s pretty easy. If it doesn’t work after a few seconds, smash the glass with your gloved hand and climb inside, start getting people out. I’ll keep their attention on me.”

“Won’t they hear the breaking glass and come investigate?”

Liam shook his head. “Not likely. I’m their primary target. Remember, I’m the one with the contract on my head. But if they do, you’ll have to take care of them. I’m sorry. If that happens, don’t hold back. Go at them with all you have, all you can give—these are professional killers, and they won’t give ground because you’re a woman or a civilian. Do the best you can, but the hostages are a priority.” He sighed. “Not a perfect scenario but it’s the best we’ve got.”

She stroked his cheek. “I love you, Liam Wolfson. Come back to me.”

He swallowed hard. “Love you, too.” He shrugged off the parka. “Now let’s do this.”

The cold bit into his exposed hands and face as he trod out the back door of the building and made his way into the street. He would have liked to keep the parka on, but it’d restrict him too much, slow him down. It wasn’t going to offer much protection against bullets.

And dammit, he wasn’t going to die bundled up like a burrito.

As he turned the corner, he saw the enforced hard labor had paid off for the mercenaries. The entire front of the hotel was cleared of snow as well as extending into the street and creating a square, about ten feet by ten feet.

An arena.

Liam slid down into the clearing, kicking some of the snow from his shoes.

A pricking started at the back of his neck, the sense he was being watched.

If they were smart, they’d kill me at a distance. Take the shot and go home.

He was putting his money on Landsdowne being enough of a prick to not want the easy way out. The Sons had a reputation to maintain, and he’d poked enough holes in that to urge their leader to be cruel, try to regain some of his status among his men. Liam had delivered some heavy slaps and there’d be retribution for that.

Good.

Keeping them focused on him was a priority—it’d give Kara more time to evacuate the hostages.

“Wolfson.” Rick Landsdowne stepped out onto the porch, the shotgun leveled at Liam’s chest. He moved forward, the weapon steady in his hands.

“You’ve been one hell of a pain in my ass,” he said as the other mercs came out behind him. “I should let McKay kill you, but the son of a bitch’s still rocking from that hit. Puked all over himself when we pulled the gag out, hugging the toilet upstairs right now.” His eyes narrowed. “How did you get into his room, anyway?”

Liam grinned. “Think I’m going to tell you?” He took a step back, prompting the four men to instinctively move a step forward. “You know my reputation. Besides, who said it was me?” He waved his hand at the nearby buildings. “You came into town only a few days ago. I’ve been here way longer. Who knows what friends I made while you were chasing down ghosts? Could have a small army hidden in the walls, waiting to pick you off while you stand out here in the open.”

The man behind Landsdowne blinked rapidly, signaling his discomfort.

Liam smiled inside. The sneak attack had paid off, sowing a bit of concern among the men that their target might have backup.

Landsdowne shook his head. “Don’t fuck around. There’s only one cop here, and she hightailed it out earlier on a snowmobile. We had a man up in the window with binoculars on watch—spotted her lights going out of town. Your mayor confirmed it’s what she’d likely do, drive out to meet the plows and try and get help. But no one here knows who you really are—and they’re not going to fight for you.” He smirked. “Only backup you’ve got here is your girlfriend, and she’s injured, courtesy of McKay’s knife. She can run and hide, but those stitches will slow her down until we catch up with her. Of course, we changed channels after you took the guys out at your apartment and picked up their radios. No use broadcasting all our plans.”

He lifted his other hand, and Liam spotted the detonator, the red button lit up to signal the bombs were live and ready to activate.

“What’s that?” he asked, trying to buy more time.

“Our way out of here.” Landsdowne grinned. “By the time the cavalry arrives this place is going to be a disaster zone, burning to the ground and confusion everywhere. We’ll slip out in the middle of the chaos, back to Denver and then out of the state.”

He let out a sigh. “Didn’t have to be this way, you know. Our original plan was to come in, find you and do it quietly, silently.” One edge of his mouth twisted up. “They’d find you in your bed, suicide note on the pillow.” He pointed at Liam. “But you had to make a big deal of it, send your girlfriend in sniffing around. This entire town’s going to burn, and that’s on your head.”

Liam said nothing, counting the seconds. Every minute Landsdowne kept talking was another minute Kara had to save the hostages.

The mercenary leader cocked his head to one side. “Pretty lady—she know who you really are? All the people you killed? If she’s into that sort of bad boy, might look her up when we’re all done here, if she makes it out.”

The men around him chuckled.

It took all he had to not charge at the man. “She’s already gone. Drove out on the snowmobile out last night to try and reach the plows, bring them up-to-date.” Liam picked out one of the men, the one who had blinked before. “She set off some flares. You might have seen them in the distance. That means she met the plows and told them all about you. They’ve called in reinforcements and are coming in loaded and ready to finish you off. There’s no slipping away this time, no escape except in handcuffs or a body bag.”

The man to the left glanced over, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

It’d have to do.

“So, if you want to surrender to me, I’m ready. Put down your weapons, drop to your knees, and turn around.” Liam smiled. “Don’t have enough cuffs for all of you, but I’ll make do.”

That brought a round of nervous laughter from the assembled men.

“All right, then.” Liam slowly extended his arms before entwining his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “Who’s first?” He settled into a fighting stance. “Come on, Rick—I know you want a shot. I remember you talking crap about me years ago. Here’s your chance at the title.”

Landsdowne gave a hoarse bark, keeping the weapon steady. “What makes you think I won’t just shoot you where you stand?”

“Because you like a good fight.” Liam gestured at the other men. “And they didn’t come all this way to watch you put me down with one shot.” He waved him forward. “Show me you got more than just smack talk, Rick. Or are you too old to lead this bunch anymore?”

The mercenary leader eyed Liam. “I’m not here to entertain them. Neither are you.” He raised the shotgun, still keeping a firm grip on the detonator.

Liam glared at him, readying for a fight.

She’d slipped in one of the back windows after a few seconds of jiggling the metal bar to bring the switch up. Only then did she let her breath out slowly, her lungs aching with tension.

The parka came off, tossed into a corner of the room. She’d have no further need for it, one way or another.

Kara opened the door to the hall, listening for any signs of movement.

The first voice she heard was Landsdowne’s, sharp and abrasive. A string of curses, punctuated with a loud slap and a woman crying out.

Someone was venting, taking their anger out on the hostages.

Kara bit her lip, forcing herself to stay still. Barging in wouldn’t help anyone right now, especially Liam.

“No one takes him out but me. Understand?” The mercenary leader barked.

“But the contract…” the unfamiliar voice started.

“The contract is for him to be dead. I know that. But the bastard’s fucked with us twice, first with the men we sent to his place and now McKay upstairs. I want him to suffer before I put him down. Then we snap the picture of his body and burn it all the fuck down.”

She readied her baton and crept down the hall, taking each step with care.

A harsh laugh rang out. “There he is. Come on, boys—let’s finish this.”

The creaking floorboards told her they were moving toward the front door, leaving whoever was in the lobby behind. It was obvious they didn’t see the civilians as any sort of threat, using their size and numbers to intimidate the frightened hostages.

She risked a glance around the corner and gasped.

Jamie and Tony were there, as they’d assumed. But there were also a handful of seniors, including the mayor, who looked as if he was about to pass out. An older woman sat in a chair, her reddened face showing she’d been the target of Landsdowne’s anger.

Rage curdled up inside her as she recognized Lizzie, one of the seniors she’d run errands for.

She owed Landsdowne for this one.

Time to get started.

Kara moved closer, taking stock of the situation. The mercenaries had their backs to her, peering out the windows onto the porch.

A shout came from outside and she immediately knew the source.

Liam.

She held her breath as the men rushed out, leaving the townspeople behind.

It was hard not to focus on the outside noise, the voices rising and falling. That wasn’t her job; it wasn’t her priority.

These people were.

Kara let out a low whistle, bringing the civilians’ attention around to where she stood. She held a finger to her lips, willing them to be silent.

Jamie’s mouth opened and closed as he studied the police uniform. He glanced at the other hostages, sitting in the chairs set in a circle. None of them were tied up, Kara noted with relief, making the extraction easier.

She waved them over to her—no one hesitated, shuffling out of the chairs without a backward glance. Lizzie was slower, limping at the back of the group.

Kara gave her a light hug as she got close enough. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered to the woman.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” the white-haired senior said. “I was knitting a scarf, and suddenly the fire alarm went off. I came out…” She shook her head, trembling. “I don’t understand.”

Kara held back her anger. “It’s going to be fine now.” She pointed down the hall, where she’d just come from. “Get to the storage room. The window’s unlocked—climb out and head for the police station.” She kept her voice down to a whisper, listening for any sign they were about to be caught.

Jamie hesitated, staring at the badge pinned to her uniform shirt. “What’s that all about?”

She tamped down a nervous flutter in her belly. “Marie’s bringing in help—needed me and Liam to do our bit. Now get going before they come back this way.”

“Who’s Liam?” Jamie said.

She put up her hand, stalling any further questions. “Just go. I’ll explain later.”

“The snow…” Tony started.

“Just do the best you can. I’ve left my snowshoes in there for one of you. Break a trail, do whatever you need to do.” Kara resisted the urge to snarl. “You’ve got to escape from this building and move as far away as you can.” She glanced at the older women slowly moving along. “The plows will be here soon—force your way through the snow and keep them safe.” She touched his shoulder. “I need you to be a hero here. You and Jamie. Help Lizzie get out, get her to safety.”

Jamie clenched his jaw before nodding. “We’ll take care of it.” He paused. “What are you going to do?”

“Help Liam.” She swung the baton around, enjoying the way his eyes went wide at seeing the weapon. “Now go.”

They didn’t stop to ask any more questions, scurrying down the corridor with the seniors.

She stayed in the hall, standing guard until the last civilian had gone into the storage room.

An invisible weight lifted from her chest. They were safe—or close to being safe.

It was the best she could manage.

Kara moved back to the lobby. It seemed like an alien planet, the familiar setting somehow warped with the debris left behind by the invaders. Cigarette butts on the carpet floor when they obviously decided not to bother going outside, plates of half-eaten food stacked up on the front desk. It’d be a long time before the Sons of Cain’s stench would be fully purged from the room.

A cold wind whipped past her as she spotted the backs of the mercenaries gathered on the porch.

And just past them, standing in a clearing in the snow—Liam.

Her heart swelled with pride as she watched him stand tall, glaring at Landsdowne. She spotted the detonator in the merc leader’s hand and the shotgun leveled at her man. The other men had their attention on the pair, not worrying about the seemingly helpless civilians left behind in the lobby.

Time to even up the odds.

She pulled the pin on one of the flashbang grenades and rolled it out, readying herself to attack.

For who I love.

Liam gestured Rick on with a flick of his hand. “Come on, here’s your chance.” He sneered, putting as much disdain into it as he could. “If you lose, I’m sure your men’ll cover for you.”

The taunt struck home. The shotgun wavered for a second, the barrel dipping a fraction of an inch.

A sound reached Liam’s ears. A small, tinkling sound of metal on wood.

He glanced down to see the flashbang grenade rolling onto the porch—from inside the hotel.

That’s my woman.

He spun away as it went off, instinctively reaching for his throwing knives.

The bright light still managed to imprint itself on his eyelids, blurring his vision. But he didn’t need to see that clearly with so many choices.

He charged at the men, the blades easily finding their targets as they covered their eyes and reached for their weapons, fumbling with their heavy coats to gain access.

It was hard not to aim for the face.

Instead Liam went low, targeting the legs. They were relatively unprotected, the men’s parkas ending around their hips.

The men crumpled, howling as they clutched at their injuries. They weren’t killing blows, however—two of the mercs got to their pistols, raising them in his direction.

A battle cry snapped out behind them as a wooden stick smashed into one man’s head, sending him sprawling into the snow.

Kara leaped into sight, holding the police baton. She dropped down and spun, taking out another man at the knees—the combination of Liam’s knife attack and the tonfa blow sending him down for the count.

The third man turned back toward her, leaving the Sons of Cain leader alone to face Liam.

Get the detonator.

It was the alpha task in his mind—had been since he’d seen it in Landsdowne’s hand.

Get the detonator.

If the mercenary leader pushed the button, it wouldn’t matter if Kara got the hostages out or not. They’d all be hurt or killed in the subsequent explosion and fire.

Get the detonator.

The last of his throwing knives went wide, flying by Landsdowne and embedding itself in the doorframe. Liam cursed, realizing he’d shifted his aim at the last second due to his fear of hitting Kara.

Landsdowne’s finger tightened on the shotgun’s trigger, holding the detonator tight in his other hand.

Time slowed down, a familiar feeling to Liam. It was a way to deal with the stress, his mind processing things at a different speed. He knew it well and knew how to push through it.

The bullets spewed out of the barrel and toward his chest.

Liam watched the pellets race toward him in slow-motion, accepting his fate.

There was no escape.

Kara’s baton came up again, swinging wide to bring it down on the shotgun barrel—a fraction of a second too late.

Landsdowne yelled something as she elbowed him in the face, her angry snarl echoing in his ears.

The mercenary leader spun around, the detonator flying out of his grip as he dealt with his new attacker.

Get the…

The bullets drilled into his torso as Liam leaped forward into the blast, his empty knife hand reaching for the small black controller as it fell.

Landsdowne wrestled with Kara, turning away as he swung at her with the but end of the shotgun.

Liam’s fingers touched the detonator, curling around the cold plastic container as the pellets drilled through the vest and into his body.

Time sped up again, the world coming back into focus with a nearly audible crack.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air as the pain hit—warmth spreading out through his body, choking almost all coherent thoughts from his mind.

Except for two.

He looked at the detonator, safely clutched in his hand.

Get the detonator. Check.

Liam looked up as Kara charged toward him, carrying the shotgun. Behind her lay Landsdowne, unconscious.

Get the girl…