Page 48 of Croatia Collateral

The beam swept across the interior, back and forth, until it landed on Giva where she lay still as death.

For a moment, the guards stared. The one said something in Russian. From what Dax could understand, he asked the other what they should do.

The other man waved the flashlight toward the passage, saying something about going back to get help.

“Nyet,” was his partner’s quick response. They’d been told to keep an eye on the prisoners and not let them go. He was worried they would be punished if the prisoners were injured or escaped.

The flashlight beam returned to the chamber and swept the space, looking for the other prisoner.

As the beam neared the position Dax had taken, he flattened himself to the wall, staying out of the light.

The two discussed sending one of them back for help again and finally decided they had to handle it themselves.

The man holding the flashlight took the keys off the hook on the wall and handed them to the one with the stun gun. He pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket and aimed it toward the dungeon.

The guard with the key shifted the stun gun into his other hand and slipped the key into the lock.

He turned it, urging the man with the flashlight and pistol to cover him as he pushed the door inward.

Dax waited for the man with the stun gun to step through the doorway.

The flashlight swept across the floor again, landing on Giva, who remained motionless.

Stun Gun Guy stepped into the chamber, his hand balancing the stun gun, ready for use.

Dax’s hand shot out, grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it downward, pressing the stun gun into the guard’s leg.

The man let out a yelp.

Dax shoved him backward into the man holding the flashlight and pistol. The stun gun clattered against stone along with the flashlight, throwing Dax and the man with the gun into shadowy darkness.

A shot rang out, the bullet ricocheting off the stone walls. Dax dove over the downed man, rolled to the side and to his feet.

Another shot rang out.

The flashlight stopped spinning, the beam aiming away from the door.

Dax threw himself low and hard toward the guard with the gun as if sliding into home. His feet connected with the guard’s shins, knocking his legs out from under him, his gun flying out of his hand to land with a metal clink against the stone.

With the light shining in the opposite direction, Dax couldn’t see where the pistol landed, nor could he see the stun gun. His only weapon was the knife he’d slid into the sheath at his ankle.

When he reached for it, his fingers had barely wrapped around the handle when meaty fists swung in the darkness, cuffing him in the side of his head.

He ducked and rolled away, his head spinning.

Before he could get to his feet, the guard launched himself in Dax’s direction, his shoulder slamming into Dax’s belly, sending him flying backward into the passage wall.

He hit the wall hard, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

The Russian had him pinned, his right arm pressed into Dax’s neck, cutting off his air.

With his hand still clutching the plastic knife, Dax stabbed the Russian in the side.

The guard brought his free hand down in a hard chopping motion, hitting Dax’s wrist and knocking the knife out of his grip.

Without the knife, Dax clenched his fist and slammed it into the guard’s side, where he’d stabbed him. Warm blood soaked his fist.

Still, the guard didn’t ease off the pressure against Dax’s neck.

---