“Do it.”
17
Abby
Bangkok, Thailand
We’ve been in the hotel room for less than an hour when the fire alarm splits the air.
“Don’t fucking move,” Rodrigo, who has been on the phone from almost the moment we got here, snaps at his minion. He speaks rapidly into his phone in Spanish. “It could be an attack. If you don’t hear from me within the hour, consider it war.” He hangs up and glares at me. “This better not be your doing.”
I give a choked laugh and gesture to my bathrobe. “You made me strip in case I was being tracked. You know I don’t have a phone. I told you he’d come after us, Rodrigo.”
“Joder,”he mutters:fuck.He glances around the room, but we both know there’s no escape. The windows don’t open, and even if they did, we’re ten floors up. The only way out is the same way we came in.
“Esperar,” says Rodrigo’s minion, holding up a hand.Wait.He has his ear to the door.
There’s a timid knock on the door. “Leave room!” calls a female Thai voice. “Please! You leave now!”
The minion glances back at us. “It might truly be a fire,” he says in Spanish to Rodrigo. “There’s a lot of people yelling out there.”
I almost laugh. “It’s not a fire,” I mutter. Rodrigo glares at me, but I can see his mind working.
“You.” He grabs my arm and shoves me into the bathroom. “Stay quiet.” He puts an arm around my neck, holding me close to him, then takes out his gun and nods to the minion. “Open the door. And if anything comes through it that looks wrong, fucking shoot it.”
His man takes out his gun and takes a deep breath.
Then he opens the door.
For a split second, when smoke fills the room, I think there really is a fire.
Then Rodrigo’s bodyguard is blown back into the room with most of his chest missing, and I realize the smoke is coming from a canister on the ground.
Utter terror rips through me.I have to get out of here.
Rodrigo fires blindly into the smoke, and I hear the smash of breaking glass as his bullet hits the bar. Then he cries out, and his grip on me loosens as he clutches his leg. I twist out of his grasp and bend down, lurching through the smoke in the direction of the door.
Except I never make it even close. Instead, I run straight into a huge, solid wall of flesh, with arms that lock me into an iron grip.
I’m about to fight when I hear the snarl of a heartbreakingly familiar voice: “I’ve got her.”
Dimitry?
But there’s no time to process my shock or relief. I can feelDimitry’s arm raising the gun behind me to shoot Rodrigo again.
Which will get us all killed.
“No!” I reach for his arm, trying to push it down. “Don’t shoot him,” I gasp, straining to see Dimitry’s face through the smoke. “You can’t.”
“Listen to your girlfriend.” Despite the gunshot in his leg, Rodrigo’s voice is remarkably steady. “If you shoot me, you will never leave Thailand, my friend, I promise you that.”
From behind Dimitry comes another low voice. “Room is clear.” A second gun points directly at Rodrigo. “Except for this fucker.”
“You can’t shoot him.” I’m still trying to press Dimitry’s gun arm away from Rodrigo. “I’ll explain why later, I promise.” I don’t want to say Dimitry’s name aloud, don’t want to give Rodrigo anything to go on. Dimitry’s face is still indistinct in the smoke, and he’s wearing a low hat that covers his eyes, but I can still feel his rigid tension, how poised on the edge of violence he is.
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” says the man with Dimitry. “I’ll check the corridor.”
I look back at Rodrigo, who is dripping blood on the floor and staring narrowly at Dimitry. “Tell them I escaped in the chaos,” I say to him quickly. “And lie about your bodyguard. Tell them you had a fight, anything. Just make them believe it.”