Page 32 of Claim Me
I bolted toward him as he took off running toward the forest surrounding the neighborhood. Within seconds, I was enveloped in darkness. I kept moving as my eyes became used to the shadows. A solid snap of a thick limb grabbed my attention. Stopping short, I held the gun in both hands as I listened for any sound of where he was headed.
There was nothing but the sound of night creatures. He was doing the same thing as I was, which meant he’d been well trained in the art of assassination.
I slipped one hand into my pocket, finding the Swiss army knife I kept with me. Included on the ring was a small yet powerful flashlight half the size of a fountain pen. With it in hand, Icontinued moving through the trees, constantly scanning the thick foliage.
It was impossible not to step on fallen limbs and underbrush, the constant cracks and crunches from my shoes matching his heavier footsteps.
I moved behind a tree, concentrating on what I was hearing. With the flashlight in my hand, I shifted to the right, immediately flashing the beam.
The asshole had anticipated my move. As soon as the beam hit his face, he attacked, smashing the weapon against the side of my head. I was pitched backward, dropping the flashlight while keeping my fingers firmly wrapped around the gun.
The light bounced once and landed, keeping the beam illuminating the fight, and momentarily blinding my opponent. How convenient.
The split second of confusion bought me some time, enough I issued a brutal kick to his upper torso. Not only did he lose the weapon, he took a savage tumble backward, slamming against the tree.
There was no time to rest on my laurels. I lunged forward, throwing two hard punches, one to his throat and the other to his gut. When he cursed in Russian, I almost laughed. It had been a long time since I’d been called a traitor.
His exclamation provided me with more detailed information than he understood. He believed me to be fully Americanized yet knew I was Russian, Maybe the element of surprise was what had spooked him. As if it mattered.
What did was the reason he was here and there were two of them, the main one being to hurt or kill Marissa. The other? To hunt me down. That allowed me to know for certain which side of the fine line between good and evil the detective was on.
Another puppet likely in a long line of them for Popov.
He managed to issue a brutal punch to my kidney. Grunting, I was pushed back, immediately swinging my weapon against the side of his face. Tossed a couple of feet into the air from the force used, he crumpled onto the ground. That meant nothing. With two long strides, I dropped onto one knee, punching him in the face several times.
I wiped my face, realizing blood was trickling down my cheek from the earlier hit. Huffing, I noticed the duffle bag he’d been carrying and dragged it closer. With a hard yank, I pulled out the contents. A blindfold. Zip ties. Rope. All the makings of a kidnapping kit. When my fingers wrapped around something else, I hissed, pulling it into the light.
A goddamn syringe.
Anger turned to rage, the rush of adrenaline burning my blood.
With the evidence laid out in front of me, the rage began to increase even more than after learning of Charlie’s death. I snapped my head toward the assassin while twisting my fingers around the syringe.
When the fucker started to come to, the anger became uncontrollable. I ripped off the protective tip and lunged toward him. The moment I plunged the needle into his neck, he wore a look of shock that amused the fuck out of me. Without bothering to remove it, I rose to my full height, watching the fucker squirm.
He slapped at the syringe, trying unsuccessfully to pull it from his skin. I took a deep breath and grabbed the flashlight, shining the beam into his eyes. “Well. Well. What do we have here? A Russian pig I assume. Are you one of Popov’s lackeys? You don’t need to answer that. In fact, if I were to guess, I’d say the liquid inside that syringe was meant for the beautiful and talented Marissa Valentine.”
I watched as his body began to shake. I’d had experience with various drugs including those used to render an enemy paralyzed. As I flashed the light from his body to his face, his muscles were already contorting.
His throat was closing, an expected side effect and his arm dropped to his side. It would appear my assessment was correct.
“Yes, I’ll also venture an educated guess the serum was meant to render her immobile so you could easily take her to wherever your puppet master wanted. I thought providing you with a taste of your own medicine was a much better plan.”
I placed the flashlight on a piece of wood a few inches away before pulling the knife from my pocket. Unsheathed, the strangled glow from the LED provided a perfect illumination as I twisted the blade back and forth. The shimmer was magnificent and reminded me of the old days.
Times when a pair of dice had been replaced with my weapon of choice. I chuckled inwardly from the thought.
“I know succinylcholine very well. A useful neuromuscular blocking agent. Almost instant. I can see by the hard twitching of your muscles I’m correct. That leaves us plenty of time to have a discussion. And don’t worry, I’m not looking for you to answerany of them. Given where you are and that you’re Russian, I have almost every answer I need.”
Just for kicks, I checked his pockets, shocked to find a wallet. The fact he’d been carrying any identification meant he wasn’t a pro, merely a soldier within the Bratva given the task. Kill me. Kidnap Marissa. As I flipped it open, I heard a dog barking. Maybe I would need to hurry this along. I certainly wouldn’t want an innocent pup to happen onto the party.
“Victor Kierkov. A good, solid Russian name.” I shoved his wallet into my pocket, curious what other goodies I’d find. “Well, Victor. Here’s how we’re going to play it. I’m going to venture a guess you were assigned to kill Charles Valentine. You can blink to confirm.”
I’ll be damned if he didn’t. At least I knew.
“Oh, good boy. Maybe I won’t make your death as painful as I’d thought before.”
With the knife in my hand, I crouched down beside him, immediately plunging the blade into his stomach then twisting.
