This is so tragic. She might be horrible, to put it mildly, but she’s young. She could have changed, given a chance, and she’s carrying a totally innocent life.
I look up to see one of the emergency responders take one look at Liza and then turn away, puking into a corner. Not a good sign for her survival, part of my mind thinks; the other part is still in shock, unable to process. Two other paramedics approach Liza and start to examine her.
“What happened?” one asks as she kneels by Liza.
“Crazy Russian thug, Popov, blew half her brains out. They’re all over Cassie; she’s the one in shock. They are the two who need immediate treatment, Liza and Cassie.” The Yorkshire man who was with Popov says this, and all I hear is that her brains are on me. “The blond has been hit, but it’s a graze.”
Her brains are on me? I immediately begin to rake my hands feverishly through my hair, in a panic.
“Shut your mouth,” Konstantin snaps at the man. He turns to me. “Cassie, leave it. It’s okay, we’re going to get you cleaned up. You’re going to the hospital, and they will clean you up, okay?”
Hospital. Why would I need the hospital? The rushing in my ears intensifies, and the world goes like an out of tune TV set, before turning entirely dark.
Chapter Three
Konstantin
I stare at the mess around us. Fuck me, this turned out even more bloody than I imagined.
It’s a miracle we didn’t lose anyone. In this battle, we came out on top. However, we’ve probably ignited a bigger war.
When Andrius suggested involving Liam and his team, I was unsure, convinced they’d say no. Why would a tight-knit group of special forces soldiers help us? But Andrius has history with Reece, and he laid it on thick about how innocent Cassie is in all this and what a danger the Armenians are to him and Violet. He also let slip the fact they’ve been trafficking people. A lot of them into the north, where these men are based, and that’s all it took to get his friend Reece on board. Once Reece said yes, the other three did too. So now we have a small army, complimented by two of Allyov’s men, including Alexei, who it seems is on loan to me now for however long I need him.
Allyov has got himself and his immediate family, plus five of his close personal protection men on a private jet to his rural retreat in Russia. It’s apparently what he does when danger comes too close.
So now I’ve got an army, and a war with a man I had no beef with before last week. The head of the fucking Armenian mob.
Cassie slumps forward, and I catch her. “She’s gone, fainted,” I tell Andrius, an edge of panic to my voice. I think she’s in shock. Shock in extreme circumstances can kill.
A paramedic rushes over and takes her from me, and she’s laid gently on the floor as they proceed to monitor her. When she comes to with a groan, they tell her to stay lying down, while a blood pressure cuff is attached.
“Broke my fucking nose,” Andrius grouses, dragging my attention from Cassie. Then he turns to tall, dark and Yorkshire in the corner; the man who fired on Tigran, and asks the question I think we all want answered. “Who the fuck are you? Why did you fire on your own man?” We’re all still in this room, still facing off as the paramedics work around us.
The mysterious Yorkshire man sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “More like who the fuck are you? Two years of my life down the drain.”
“Liam. I’m Special Forces and now head of a security operation.” Liam steps forward and speaks directly to Yorkshire, taking over the conversation. “This is part of an operation we’ve been working on.”
“No, it’s not,” Yorkshire says. “That’s what I’m doing. And I would know if anyone else had their fingers in this particular pie. So, who the hell are you? You’re a strange merry band; it has to be said.” He gestures to all our men.
“Who do you work for?” Liam demands, as bold as brass.
“I don’t need to tell you anything, pal. But you better start talking and fast because if not, you’re going to have the top levels of British state security on you.”