She knew only one thing for certain: Busir and his goons had come for Pete just like she’d predicted. Her conscience wouldn’t let her sit back and do nothing.
After slipping the Beretta into the pocket of her jacket, she searched the backpack again for the small stun gun her self-defense instructor had suggested she buy. She’d much rather use that if she could. Gripping it and an extra cartridge in her hand, she climbed out of the car, careful to stay low and silent.
A quick glance back confirmed Busir wasn’t alone. He’d brought a friend, though not the same one she’d seen at the auction. This one looked American. Kat inched her way around parked cars, well out of both their view, until she got to the alley. Once there, she kicked up her feet and ran down the wet pavement, made a trip around the block until she came up from the south behind their car.
She was breathing heavily as she ducked out of sight and moved close to the vehicle. Busir was still waiting in the shadows. His counterpart sat in the driver’s seat, awaiting his signal.
Long seconds passed while she waited. Her breathing slowed, but the adrenaline rush sent the blood pounding in her ears in time with her heart. She let instinct and years of training finally sink in, tried to block the selfdoubt on the fringes of her subconscious. Logic told her she couldn’t take out both men on her own, but she had surprise on her side. And she’d make the most of it.
Pete suddenly emerged from the lobby, head down and arms crossed over his chest. A frown cut across his face when he looked up to where the limo had been. One quick glance around, and then he turned toward the car. Tucking his chin against his chest, he headed up the street, oblivious to what was about to go down around him.
Perspiration dampened Kat’s skin. It nearly killed her, but she waited until she saw Busir make his move.
Then she made hers.
As Busir slinked out of the shadows and followed Pete up the sidewalk, Kat gripped the driver’s door and pulled. The man in the front seat jolted around to face her. She was sure she’d never seen him before, but that didn’t stop her. She gripped the stun gun and hit him hard, right in the neck to avoid his coat. He jerked and yelped, but she held her ground and counted to four.
The man seized, then fell over on the front seat. He wasn’t unconscious, but he was incapacitated. At least for the time being.
And for a moment, Kat’s eyes widened at what she’d just done. Images flickered through her mind like a silent movie. The tomb. The sounds. The struggle. And running.
She closed her eyes tight and took large breaths to calm her nerves. But two was all she could afford. She opened her eyes, ready to find Pete. And that was when she noticed the empty vial on the console. She reached around the man’s body and lifted the small glass container.
Lorazepam.
Oh, dear God.
A loud crack, followed by a grunt, jerked her attention away from the vial and toward the street. She looked up just in time to see Pete and Busir disappear into the alley.
Her feet skidded on the icy sidewalk. She nearly lost her balance twice before she reached the entrance to the dark alley.
Where her mouth fell open.
If she’d thought Pete needed protecting, she’d been wrong. He had Busir pinned against the side of the brick building and was easily in complete control of the situation. Blood trickled down his temple. Redness and the beginnings of what looked to be a nasty bruise were forming near his eye. But what stopped her cold was the look of pure malevolence in his eyes as he stared into the face of a killer.
This was the side of him she hadn’t known. The side that turned a blind eye to what was right, negotiated deals on the shady side and stayed one step ahead of the law along the way. It was also the side that contracted with rapists and murderers and men who would do whatever it took to get what they wanted.
No.
She didn’t realize she’d spoken the word out loud until Pete’s head whipped her way.
Surprise and confusion raced across his bruised features. “What the hell?”
Busir used that moment to take the upper hand. He lifted his arm, and with a move