house to see what had happened. The side door opened, releasing more guards with guns at the ready. Deacon aimed another shot near the door, this time hitting the house instead of a body, sending every man in the vicinity into a crouch to avoid getting shot.
The girl broke away, heading for the woods.
Fionn tensed to go after her. “Mack.”
“I’ll get her,” the older man said, already moving to intercept.
Fionn returned his focus to the guards. One was pinned to the side of the SUV, head down, but his gun came up, aiming directly between the girl’s shoulders as she scrambled to get away. A quick one-two shot was enough to get his attention back on Fionn—one to the side of the vehicle, another to the man’s thigh.
Deacon whistled in his ear. “Close to the artery. Might’ve even nicked it. Dude could bleed out, Irish.”
“It’ll be more than he deserves.”
“Agreed.”
A guard near the carriage house took aim in Deacon’s vicinity. Fionn caught him in the shoulder, just for variety. Deacon had already moved after that last shot, just as Fionn now moved—Sniper 101—but for Fionn it was the principle of the thing. And the fact that these men deserved to die. They’d been delivering a young girl to her death, just so their boss could get his rocks off. They should get down on their knees and thank God Fionn and Deacon hadn’t taken the head shots they were fully capable of.
Besides, it was easy to step over a dead man and keep coming; a man screaming in agony and dragging at your leg, begging you to help him, was a much bigger disruption.
The woman reached the edge of the woods and disappeared into the darkness. Fionn eased back and to his right, not as quietly as before—the shouts and screams covered his footsteps—but carefully. Deacon would already be heading in that direction to intercept Mack and the girl, assist if possible. They needed to move out.
The thought was reinforced when a couple of guards emerged from the carriage house with semiautomatics and began spraying the woods along the back of the house with bullets. He moved deeper into the shadows, keeping a wary eye out. Now that it had started, he’d like nothing more than to take Ferrina’s men out, make them hurt as much as possible, but they couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk leaving Lyse and Siobhan a man down if something happened to him. So he retreated despite the fierce need to continue the fight.
Ahead he caught a glimpse of Mack and the woman. She was sobbing, her hands clutching Mack’s vest in a death grip as Mack urged her away from the house. An occasional ping from Deacon’s rifle split the air, keeping Ferrina’s men back to ensure Fionn and Mack’s retreat. His friend would meet them back at the car, he knew. Fionn shot one last look over his shoulder at Ferrina’s compound—and jerked to a halt.
The side door stood open. Backlit by the glow from inside, a tall, slender man stepped out, his torso strangely bulky in relation to the rest of his body. A Kevlar vest, Fionn’s mind supplied before he could analyze the strange proportions. He carried an Uzi in one hand as if it was an extension of his body, and in the shadow of his face Fionn caught the orange flare of a cigar being drawn on. The man could’ve been walking to pick up an after-dinner drink rather than walking into gunfire, and yet he was relaxed, unafraid. Almost amused.
Ferrina. No one else would have that kind of arrogance. Fionn’s finger twitched beside the trigger of his gun. Nothing would please him more than to take this man out—one shot, that was all he needed. But until they had the money, all Ferrina’s death would ensure was that whoever filled his shoes might come after Siobhan as well. Except then, they wouldn’t know their enemy.
Death would have to wait, no matter how tempted he was. Besides, Fionn had something far more like justice in mind for Ferrina. The man liked hiding—they’d see how he liked it if it wasn’t by choice.
In the darkness of the woods, he had no doubt Ferrina wouldn’t be seeing him. That didn’t stop him from raising a middle finger in salute before he turned and melted into the forest undetected.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Cathal says I have to stay in bed. I told him only if he’d stay with me.”
Lyse laughed into the phone. “Why would he