Page 78 of Under Control

“No, buddy.” Carrick cocked a pistol, stowing it in his black jeans before grabbing a hunting knife, zap straps and extra mags.Just the essentials.

“Where the fuckarewe going, then?” Delta yelled as Carrick moved into the garage.

Running down the stairs, Carrick grabbed the keys to the red rented pickup truck, still in the garage. He hoped to hell that Delta had gotten insurance.

“It’s time to have a conversation with Petrov and lay this fuck to rest,” Carrick growled into the phone, his former SEAL intensity driving hard. “Let’s go see if the old man is still at his office.”

Delta scoffed, “That’s all the way to downtown LA. Traffic is already stifling. What the fuck do you expect from me? Magic?”

“Buddy, just do what you did last time we were in Iraq.” Carrick pulled out of the garage, the evening sun hitting him across the eyes.

“You want me to break the law?”

“That’s never been a problem for you before.”

Delta let out a low chuckle, hinting at that latent monster within—the side of Delta that few people had seen.

Out on Sunset Beach boulevard, Carrick hit the gas hard, moving onto the coastal highway. Delta soon pulled in front of Carrick, throwing a fake cherry on the top of his truck. He turned on the flashing red light, parting the sea of traffic like Moses, as if they were emergency vehicles.

Speeding furiously into the downtown core, they were able to make it in record time. Swift as a wild fox, Carrick parked his truck as close as he could to Petrov’s office tower, taking a street spot that had freed up. He nodded over to Delta, who’d parked his own truck a few spaces down. It was game time.

Tucking his keys in the pocket of his jeans, Carrick felt the cold steel of the pistol against his tailbone in the back of his pants. The way he was feeling, Petrov better be fucking scared.

I’ll do whatever it takes to get Dani back.

Carrick called back to Delta, “Hold the perimeter. I’m going to see Petrov alone.”

“Going to be long?” Delta replied, crossing his arms.

“No,” Carrick shook his head. “We’ve still got to find her.”

Delta hung back, visibly digesting Carrick’s command. After running his hands up the scar on his face, a blank look came over Delta’s eyes. Carrick knew what he was reliving—the last time Delta had needed to save Carrick’s life—two years before in the wild back country of Syria. Carrick shook his head, determined.

It won’t be like that this time.

Carrick nodded at his best friend, silently reassuring him. Delta narrowed his eyes—and Carrick knew that some scars would never heal.

Focused aggression pumping through his veins, Carrick marched through the entrance of Petrov’s office building, turning immediately toward the stairs. The security guard at the desk didn’t seem to notice him. That was no surprise, given Carrick’s ability to remain invisible. He was a master at it, and few questioned him when he wanted it to be that way. Taking two steps at a time, he kept alert for any sign of danger or threat.

He thought back to when he’d been climbing these exact stairs to sign a fresh contract. It had been a big one—a big opportunity for his private security company. Little had he known then…

Carrick had come to realize enough about Petrov and Andriy, and their time had run out. Someone was going to make the first move, and Carrick was strongest on the offensive.

Finally, he reached the fourth level and opened the hallway door into the office space, where he saw the embossed glass entrance for Petrov’s company. Stalking down the hall, Carrick avoided detection. It seemed that all the employees had left for the day.

Carrick reached into the back of his jeans and removed his pistol, keeping it covered under his shirt. Around the corner, he saw it—the corner office, the place where Carrick had been a month before to sign the contract. Petrov’s office. And it was occupied. As he stepped closer, he saw Petrov sitting on a chair beside the desk, gasping for breath. The man looked like he was on the verge of dying, breathing with the help of an oxygen tank.

Carrick stopped in his tracks, realizing the old man wasn’t alone. Andriy was standing in front of the desk, a vicious snarl on his bruised and bloodied face. A sadistic grin. A pistol in his hand.

And the pistol was pointed at Dani.

Holy fuck.

Rage fired up every limb, and pure violence coursed through his veins.

Her head was down and her hair disheveled. She looked like she’d been tossed around. Immediately, a hellacious desire to kill rose in his chest. Without delay, he cocked his pistol, tracking his prey like a goddamn panther. With his heavy boot, he kicked the glass office door open, sending it crashing into the wall and just fucking shattering the glass.

“Gun down! Gun down!” Carrick howled, pointing his pistol directly at Andriy, aggressively rushing him.

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