Page 71 of Marked

“Not likely,” I huffed, holding up my cuffed hands.

For a brief second, it almost looked like he was considering taking them off. Then our doors swung open and the moment was gone, along with my chances of convincing him to wait for my team. He’d made his decision, wrong or right. I can’t even say I blamed him. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Noah.

My captor rounded the back of the SUV just as I slid off the seat, momentum pitching me forward. Seconds beforeI face-planted onto the gravel, his arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me backward in his hard body. He released me almost as quickly as he’d helped me. Steadying myself, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. There were three other dark-colored SUVs parked outside of an enormous steel warehouse. Two men with assault rifles paced back and forth in front of what I presumed was the entrance. I was about to ask where we were when the massive man who opened my door spat at my feet.

“Cyka.”

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why he thoughtIwas a bitch though. Did I ask to get agent-napped? No. Did I make the SUV two feet too tall for the vertically challenged? Also, no. He was the jackass who stood by while a woman almost cracked her head open. What kind of a jerk does that?

“Who are you?” Zakhar held up a hand. “Never mind. I’ll deal with you later. Kas?”

A blond god stalked toward us from the other vehicle, where two other equally handsome men stood. He was dressed only slightly less casually than Zak, wearing dark denim, a long-sleeve baby-blue shirt rolled once at the wrist, and a charcoal suit vest. His hair was buzzed on the sides and spiked on top.

“Da?”

“You’re on Agent Biggs. Guard her like you would your sister’s virginity.”

Kas tapped two fingers on his chest above his heart. “With my life.”

“Once we walk through those doors, Alaina, do not speak and stay behind me at all times. Kasimir will take a bullet for you, but I’d rather not lose my best friend today. Let’s go.”

I started to follow him toward the warehouse, however a strong hand cupping my elbow stopped me in my tracks.

“Zakhar might be dangerous when he needs to be, but Machail is deadly because he wants to be.” Kas kept me in his grasp and began walking. “The Bratva has worn out its usefulness under the current leadership.”

“Taking a man like Bolotov down won’t make a difference in the long run. Cut off the head of a snake, another takes its place.”

“Who said anything about cutting? I’m partial to fire.” He swung his arm out in front of him at the entryway. “After you, Agent Biggs.”

Every bit of my bravado stayed with the SUVs outside when we crossed the threshold. For the first time in the last hour or so, I knew actual fear, but it wasn’t for me. It was for the beautiful brunette, gagged and bound to a metal chair, in the center of the room. Blood trickled from a cut along her hairline, and the bruises on her face showed the extent to which they’d worked her over. Her tear-filled eyes stared at Zakhar in relief, but his rage-filled gaze was focused on the man directly behind her. Actually, there were six men, however, only one who had the audacity to smile. I recognized him immediately from the pictures the DEA had of him.

Machail Bolotov, asshole supreme.

I’d heard the stories. He was a ruthless, heartless bastard who didn’t care about anyone but himself and the power he held. Looking at the scene in front of me, I believed every word. The woman was an innocent pawn in a game, yet he’d beaten her as if she were a soldier in their Bratva war.

“I brought the Fed, Machail. Now you need to hold up your end of the bargain. Release Miss Turner.”

Bolotov prowled forward, leaning over the back of thechair, his head pressed up against the woman’s. “The deal has changed, Zakhar. I’ve become rather fond of your little assistant.” He gripped her neck with his meaty hand, then licked up the side of her bloody face.

“Fuck,” Kas muttered under his breath, shifting slightly in front of me.

Everything changed when I heard her cry out behind the filthy rag shoved in her mouth. Kicking Vlaschenko's ass was no longer my priority, neither was seeing him rot behind bars. I’d do everything in my power to get Prudence Turner out of this hellhole, even if it meant Noah would have to make conjugal visits to the Lakin Correctional Center for the next eighteen years. Because if Zak didn’t kill Bolotov, I might.

A deep growl echoed through the large space right as Zak drew his weapon, aiming it at the man taunting him. Seconds later, four more armed men entered the mix from somewhere behind Machail. It was obvious from where they aimed their guns, they were Zak’s guys. Suddenly the playing field was severely unmatched, ten on six. Machail knew it, which is why he and his guards began creeping toward the side exit, leaving Pru out in the open.

“You’re a coward and dead man, Machail.” The other man laughed.

Meanwhile, Zakhar inched forward, keeping his gun level and his eye on the mafia leader, while closing the gap between himself and his girl. His guards formed a semi-circle around him, including Kas who was edging backward with one hand on me, the other still wrapped around his pistol. We were less than a foot away from Prudence when he shoved a small key in the palm of my hand.

“Get her out of here, Agent Biggs.” He stood sentry as I quickly removed the handcuffs, then scurried to untiethe ropes around her wrists and ankles. Her arms fell limply at her sides the moment they were free. She was weak from the beating and from being tied up for God knew how long. Moving her wouldn’t be easy, especially without a way to protect us both.

“Give me a gun.”

It was a long shot. Then again, maybe not.

Stooping down, he lifted his pant leg, retrieving a black-and-silver Ruger from his ankle holster. Eyes narrowed, he started to hand it to me, then pulled it back. Indecision marred his features until she whimpered his name.

“Kasimir.”

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