At the sound of a gunshot two floors above, Rich abandoned all pretense of silence and took the stairs two at a time. His feet beat a rhythm. Too late. Too late.
From below in the stairwell, feet pounded, heading down. With the action outside as the federal team revealed itself to arrest Jairo and Rachel, it was clear Valencio Hernandez’s crew had decided it was every man for himself.
At the third-floor landing, the sounds of a fight drew his feet to a stuttering halt. Forcing himself to slow down, Rich gripped the handle and gently eased the door open. He peeked into the small opening, praying Dana was alive and giving her captors a beating they’d never forget. Praying alternately that she was safely hidden where the bad guys couldn’t find her.
His heart plummeted at the sight before him. Fear washed through his veins, threatening to weaken his knees and drop him to the floor beside his heart.
Dana was backed against the window, defenseless. A man stood above her with a pistol pointed unwaveringly at her chest.
His lungs wanted to roar. Every muscle in his body fought to be unleashed with animal ferocity, to propel him across the room and into the man who held Dana’s life in his hands.
She was too far away. He’d tip his hand. The man would fire reflexively before Rich could reach him.
He was helpless, watching. Just like Amber.
No. He would not let her die. Not while he had breath in him. Dana believed in him, believed he was the kind of hero who could protect her. It was time to prove her right.
She shifted, and her eyes seemed to focus, landing on his. For a moment, she hesitated then shifted her gaze low to his right. Without changing her expression, she looked up at the man who stood over her. “You’re Valencio Hernandez.”
Rich forced himself to look away from the scene before him and followed the direction her gaze had led him. Just a few feet away, a large pistol lay in the drywall dust. A Glock 20, from the looks of it, powerful enough to stop a bear. Powerful enough to save Dana.
Valencio took one step back from Dana and leveled his aim. “Yes. Today, I win twice. Rather than strike a deal with Jairo and Rachel, I will take over. They are in custody, and I will be the one to personally bring an end to their lineage. This is a very good day, no?”
Rich edged farther into the room and let the door slip shut silently, waiting for Dana to speak again so her voice would mask the click of the lock. Keep him talking. He wrestled back the bloody images of what would happen if he moved too slowly, if he made a noise. Panic tinged the edges of his world, rattling his hands and weakening his joints. He had to stay focused. This was his one and only chance.
“I’d rethink killing me too quickly.” Dana shifted slightly onto her left hip, wincing as she did. It was hard to tell if the pain she projected was real or was a ruse to keep Hernandez off balance.
“Yes?”
“Those federal agents taking my parents into custody are after you, too. You need a hostage if you want to get out.”
Good move, Dana. Rich eased sideways, nearing the weapon, praying his heart wasn’t beating as loudly as he thought it was. Keep him guessing. Keep yourself alive. Lord, please keep her alive. If she died in front of him...
Hernandez chuckled. “My men will never tell them I am here. They know my vengeance can reach them no matter where they run or seek protection. I already have a secure hiding place until the building is swept. I wait. Then I leave. So I lose a few men to prison. They are nothing to me. With the Marquez family beheaded and the heir dead, all of my obstacles are gone.” He raised the pistol and leveled it at Dana’s head.
Rich struggled for air and fought the instinct to cry out and rush the man. He glanced at the gun. So close.
With a slight smile, Dana braced her hand on the floor and looked straight at Rich. “There’s one more obstacle. Now!”
She rolled to the side.
Rich dived for the pistol and came up to one knee, taking aim as Valencio Hernandez fired.
Hernandez’s shot pierced the window where Dana had been seconds before.
Rich’s bullet found its mark in the center of Hernandez’s back. The power of the ten-millimeter bullet shoved him forward, and he crashed into the window then slid to the unfinished floor, moaning.
Rich rose slowly, keeping his weapon trained on the threat but glancing to assess Dana’s condition.
She scrambled for Valencio’s gun and retrieved it. She stood, weapon aimed squarely at center mass of the man on the floor. Her face was pale, streaked with drywall dust and tight with what might be suppressed anger or even pain, but she’d never looked better.
It took all Rich had not to blow the whole mission by crossing the room and pulling her close.
Dana didn’t look his way. She held a laser focus on the man he’d downed. “He’s whimpering like a child, but he’ll be okay. He and his men were all wearing vests.”
They’d expected a major confrontation and had been prepared for a battle. What they hadn’t prepared for was one woman determined to fight for her country and one man determined to fight for her life, whatever the cost.
From the stairs, the sound of pounding feet echoed through the building. The federal team was headed in. Keeping one eye on Hernandez, Rich laid the pistol on the floor and stepped away from it to avoid confusion when the team entered. They’d expect Dana to be armed but not him.
He ventured another glance at her, and adrenaline kicked in. “You’re hurt.” Blood soaked the thigh of her jeans. Instinctively, he moved toward her.
She didn’t look his way. “Stand still.”
Right. When the team entered, he needed to be out of the way and as nonthreatening as possible. But once this was over, he’d—
Men burst through the door in tactical gear, rifles and sidearms drawn, shouting orders. Choreographed chaos ensued as Dana gave a quick brief to the agent in charge and the attention shifted to Valencio Hernandez.
She didn’t look in his direction. Her focus lay solely on the job. She’d apprehended the man behind the ruin in her life, had likely earned a permanent reinstatement, and was totally in her element. While he was clenching his fists to keep from striding across the room to pull her into his arms, she was oblivious to his presence.
Fine. As soon as he was cleared to do so, he’d leave her to do this work.
He’d be back, though. He’d fought for her this far, he’d fight for her still, until she saw he truly did love her and he wasn’t going anywhere.
With a final nod, she handed her sidearm over to the agent in charge, then turned and scanned the room. Her eyes found his, and something in her face changed, softened. Without a glance at anyone else, Dana crossed the room and fell into Rich’s arms.
He buried his face in her hair, the tension ebbing until he wasn’t sure if he was holding her up or she was holding him up.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that it was over. Finished. She had everything she’d worked to achieve.
Yet she’d come to him.