no one appeared, he cautiously took a quick look to find three more tangos on the plane. They all had handguns and fired at him, the distressed sounds of a woman and kids filling his ears. Without hesitation, 2-Stroke took them all down with three center mass hits. He rushed into the passenger area where Bendarik, his wife, and two children were huddled together.
“Clear. I have the HVT and his family,” 2-Stroke said. “Coming out.”
He motioned for the man to stand.
“My family,” he said.
“No one will be harmed if you cooperate. Move.” 2-Stroke gestured with his weapon, and the man hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and assisted his small daughter while his wife did the same, then helped her son. They all rose, terror in their eyes, pleading with him not to hurt them. “Hands on your head, Mr. and Mrs. Bendarik.”
They preceded him out, and once they were on the runway, Pitbull cuffed both the adults while Dragon ushered the kids toward the returning chopper. They filed aboard, the Bendarik’s and their kids taking seats as Pitbull and Dragon took up positions at the open doors, their legs dangling as the chopper took off. 2-Stroke met the eyes of his triumphant teammates. Mission accomplished.
Bendarik was now the responsibility of the CIA, and they would finally head home. The only thing to contend with now was the volatile fallout from that hot kiss Chry had given him. He’d have to let her down easily.
He wasn’t going to expose himself to a relationship with an active liaison. It would be crazy to try and make that work, no matter how attracted he was to his childhood friend, who had always been more than that.
There was no defining Chry. She just was.
But it didn’t matter. The pull of her beauty, the temptation of the comfort of her arms, the heated response to her body would all have to be suppressed indefinitely.
Anna, groggy from hitting her head against the wall, watched in horror as everything seemed to slow down. The man fumbled for the dangling detonator, grasped it and brought his hand up, his thumb poised over the red button. She closed her eyes, realizing she would never get the chance to tell Dodger that she loved him. Her breath whooshed out.
Then she heard it, an explosion, and she waited for an oblivion that never came. When she opened her eyes, the bomber was sprawled against the wall, the screams of the guests keeping the whole ordeal steeped in pandemonium. She turned to find Dodger in a firing stance, his hands around the grip of the Glock. Dodger had shot him clear through the head, blood spattering against the white wall. It was over. They had won.
Sirens sounded in the distance. He rushed over and she tried to rise, but she was still a bit stunned. “We need to leave,” he said. “Immediately.”
When she struggled to stand, he scooped her up and exited through the kitchen door. “Mouse, bring the van around. Hurry. The cops are on their way.”
“Got you covered,” he said, and as Dodger burst through the outside doors, the black van squealed around the corner, Mouse behind the wheel. He jumped out of his seat and opened the door and Dodger stepped through with her cradled in his arms. “Let’s go, Mouse.”
Then Mouse was behind the wheel, the van careening for the exit, just clearing it as the cops converged on Rhodes House.
She relaxed against him, her head still swimming. He looked down, the feel of his warm breath against her skin soothing. “You all right, luv?”
“Yes. How did the police get here so fast?” she asked, looking up at him dazedly.
“It’s covered, Anna. I told you I knew a guy. We’re good.”
She grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “What guy?”
He looked away. “Someone from Buckingham Palace.”
“What? You know the royal family? The prince? That’s your guy?” She groaned. “You really do downplay your connections.”
Dodger shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“Right. You are knighted.”
He chuckled, inspecting the cut on her arm, pulling out a white square that looked like linen and blotting the blood.
“You have a handkerchief.”
“Of course, I do. I am a gentleman, after all.”
When they arrived at the estate, Anna was relieved to see that Dodger’s parents were in bed and the butler had also retired.
They slipped inside and headed to his room. Dodger set her on the bed as Mouse closed the door. Mouse reached for the remote and turned on the news, his shoulders stiff.