Chapter Thirty-Four

The report of the bullet sent fear jolting through Luke’s system. He paused at the side of the building. Ian’s job was to make noise by the door on the dockside of the hangar, while Luke circled around, heading to the large bay door that opened onto the water.

Behind him, he heard a shout from Ivy, while in front of him, a man swam under the hangar wall. Luke dove into the water, cutting off Dimitri’s escape.

Dimitri fought against his hold, but froze when his gaze met Luke’s underwater. All at once, he flung his arms out. No fight. Absolute surrender.

Blood swirled in the water between them as Luke weighed what he knew and what he believed about Dimitri Veselov.

He gripped Dimitri’s shirt and kicked off the sandy seafloor, lifting them both to the surface.

He didn’t know what he was going to ask until the words came out of his mouth. “Why am I here, Dimitri? Why did you send me the card?”

“To protect Ivy. The DIA is here—with her in the hangar. Ulai is dead or dying. The DIA’s involved somehow. But you’ll need proof. Ivy faked shooting me so I could escape.”

Luke dropped his gaze to the water that had taken a purplish hue. “From the blood, I’m guessing she shot you for real.”

He glanced down. “Her aim was off, she didn’t mean to hit me. Bullet grazed my hip.”

“Can you swim?”

“Yeah.”

“Swim to our boat. You know which one?”

Dimitri gave a sharp nod.

“Hide in the cabin. We’ll get help for Ulai and deal with the DIA. Hurry. Before the sharks smell the blood.”

In a flash, Dimitri was gone and Luke had to ask himself if he was the biggest dumbshit on the planet.

Sometimes all you could rely on was gut feeling. Dimitri might be the Hammer, but he was also the man who’d been ready to sacrifice his life to save thousands of others.

Luke believed Ivy and trusted Dimitri. 

He swam to the ladder and prepared to lie to the DIA.

Ian kicked at the door as the shot echoed. Inside, Ivy let out a low yell; the dock shook. He kicked again. On the fifth kick, the lock snapped. He entered, gun drawn, to see Ivy throw a wrench she must’ve grabbed from the workbench at a man he’d never seen before.

The man ducked. “Chill out, Ivy! We’re on the same side!”

“Bullshit!” She grabbed another wrench and threw it. “You set me up for this!” The man stepped backward, his eyes darting to the edge of the dock, where a Sig hovered on the brink of falling into the water.

He dove for the weapon, and Ian dove for him.

He didn’t know what was going on, but he’d been hired to protect Ivy. They fought for the gun, rolling on the dock. The gun landed in the water, and the stranger landed a blow to Ian’s jaw.

He grunted and clipped the man on the chin just as a wrench hit the man’s temple.

The man slumped backward, out cold. Ivy stood above them both, breathing heavily, holding a wrench in her good hand. “God, I hope I didn’t kill him. We need to know who Rudy’s working for, and for him to tell his boss that Dimitri is dead.”

Ivy stood to her full height. She nodded toward the unconscious man. “Rudy Fredrickson killed Ulai—” She dropped the wrench and turned to the pilot. “Dimitri was helping him breathe. He said he still had a pulse. Maybe there’s still time.”

From the look of the wound, Ian suspected it was too late.

Ivy dropped to her knees at Ulai’s side and placed her fingers on his neck, while Ian did the same for the man she’d called Rudy Fredrickson. Fredrickson’s pulse was steady, as was his breathing.

“No pulse, not breathing,” she said of Ulai. Her gaze dropped to her cast. “I can’t do CPR.” She turned her desperate eyes on Ian.

“It’s too late, Ivy.” But he dropped to his knees just the same and started chest compressions.

Ivy plucked his phone from his pocket as Luke entered the hangar.

“We need an ambulance,” she said into the phone. “A man is down. No pulse and unresponsive. CPR is being administered.” She gave the location, described the injury, then hung up. To Luke and Ian, she said, “Agent Palea needs to investigate. Rudy did this, not Dimitri.”

Her gaze fixed on the dead man Ian was trying to revive. “He’ll get away with everything because Dimitri is the Hammer. But Dimitri isn’t who you think he is.”

“You know about the Hammer?” Luke asked as he positioned himself at Ulai’s head.

She nodded. “But that’s not who he is.”

“I’ll do the breaths at the next interval,” Luke said.

Ian nodded, counting compressions as sweat dripped down his brow. “Where is Veselov?” he managed to ask, then said, “Twenty-nine, thirty,” to signal Luke to breathe for Ulai.

Luke gave Ulai two breaths. His chest rose with the infusion of air into the lungs. No blockage.

Ian resumed chest compressions.

Luke looked toward the unconscious man several feet away. “He’s out?”

“Yes,” Ian said. “Ivy hit him with a wrench.”

“When he comes to, we can convince him it was a mistake and give Agent Palea time to investigate,” Ivy said. “Ian thought he was a threat to me. Rudy is involved. He attacked Ulai. We can’t let Dimitri take the fall.”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” Ian said.

Luke breathed for Ulai again.

When Luke was done, Ivy asked, “Is Dimitri okay?”

“Your bullet skimmed his hip.”

“Shit.” She took a deep breath. “Where is he?”

“Our boat.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. Thank God, the ambulance was almost to the marina.

Ian continued chest compressions as silence passed between Ivy and Luke. He caught Luke’s nod with his peripheral vision.

She leaned down and kissed Ulai’s bloody cheek and whispered, “Pull through. Please stay with us.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll check in as soon as I can.” Her footfalls pounded on the aluminum dock as she darted out the door.

Every part of Dimitri hurt.

He’d been shot once before. He’d been beaten before. But he had to acknowledge he wasn’t as young as he once was. And the bullet might’ve gone deeper than a graze.

Climbing onto the boat deck was a special slice of hell, but he made it, fighting through the agony. The burn.

He would survive this. It was what he did.

He checked his wound. The shot had torn his flesh, a deep furrow, but the bullet wasn’t embedded.

It was nothing compared to what others suffered. His sister. Ivy.

Ulai.

Motherfucker. Ulai.

A good man.

Why had Rudy Fredrickson gone after the pilot? Ulai didn’t know anything.

Aw fuck. Ulai.

His only sin was becoming Dimitri’s friend. And he’d paid for it with his life.

Dimitri slammed his fist into the deck even as he crawled toward the hatch to the interior.

He could grieve Ulai once he was inside and got his hands on a first aid kit.

Focus on not passing out. Two days without sleep combined with blood loss had caught up with him, because next thing he knew, he was at the bottom of the steps, with only a vague memory of tumbling into the galley.

The world spun like he’d had too much booze, but he hadn’t had alcohol since the scotch in the cave with Ivy.

Footsteps sounded above him, and he curled into a tight, defensive ball, tucking himself into a dark corner. Ready to fight. Training. Years of training came through for him when he should have passed out.

He had muscle memory. Practice. Blows from the hockey stick when he failed.

It was effective training to ensure he used only English when in pain, when dreaming, when delirious. Only English. Or the blows would make the pain much, much worse.

“Water?” a woman asked at one point.

“Da,” he said, cringing the moment he realized his mistake. But the blow didn’t come. Just a straw between his lips and a cold liquid filled his throat.

He drank until the cup was empty, and then it was refilled.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was dark all around. He discovered he slept on the floor of the galley, a pillow under his head, a bandage on his hip, and a woman’s body curled next to his.

He pulled Ivy close and breathed her in, then dropped back into oblivion.

He woke again with the dawn, feeling a thousand times better. His hip ached, but sleep and liquids had replenished his energy. He felt the gentle rocking motion of the boat and tried to get his bearings.

He had only the vaguest memories of the intervening hours. Water and electrolyte drinks for hydration. A cool cloth to clean his wound. Ivy’s attempts to get him to the bunk, then giving up and making a bed for them both on the floor.

He was alone on the floor now, an indentation on the pillow next to him telling him he hadn’t dreamed Ivy by his side.

He sat up, wondering where they were. Safe from the DIA man?

Or was he a prisoner?

He stood slowly, then climbed the short ladder, his head emerging through the hatch to the deck.

Sunlight hit his eyes, and he squinted against it. A glance to the port side showed nothing but sea. Fore and aft, just water. Finally, he gazed starboard and took in beautiful Ivy at the helm, nothing but water stretched in that direction as well.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Her mouth curved in a slow, sexy grin. “Somewhere between Palau and the Celebes Sea.”

He shook his head, then a smile stretched across his own face. “Really?”

“Yes. Really. I’ve abducted you, Dimitri. And there is nothing you can do about it.”