Hard to Stop (25 page)

"I'm digging this so far. Not the part of you being kinda dead, but the part where we put this whole thing to rest. I want to go back to work and get my former life back."

"Yep, me too. We've all been looking over our shoulders for too many years now. Time to cut off the head of the beast once and for all."

"She's one powerful woman."

"She was a KGB operative for a period of time and was good at turning people to her cause. When she got out, she used her skills to get people to do what she wanted. In many ways she's so much like Petrovich that it makes me sick to my stomach. Right now she's on the FBI's Most Wanted Terrorists list."

"No doubt she was indoctrinated into that lifestyle from a very early age. She was bred to kill."

"I always wondered if Petrovich knew my mother was pregnant when they escaped. In his sick and twisted mind, it probably would have fit in with his evil plan for my family. Either way, he's long gone thanks to another one of the young people he schooled to become a killer—Anna. She found a way to eliminate him, as I will find a way to eliminate Cleo and whoever she brought along with her."

"What's the plan?"

"You take me to her to prove you've gotten me. Then once you're safe and out of the picture, I kill her."

She swallowed as if digesting everything he'd said was difficult. "She'll see that as a trap."

"Not if you do a good sell job, she won't."

"She hasn't survived this long by being naïve. This is a very low-percentage operation. You know this is as close to suicide as pulling the trigger yourself."

"Unless she feels like she has the upper hand, it's not going to fly. We gotta make her believe she does. Call her and get her to name the time and the place, and The Alliance will be there backing us up." He hated to lie to her, but she'd never agree to this otherwise.

She sucked in a deep breath and didn't speak until she let it back out. Her gaze focused on him. "Give me the phone, and I'll make the call."

He did as instructed. "Remember the prize."

Her fingers shook as she punched in the numbers on the phone. "Cleo, this is Gianna Collini. I've got something you want, and I'd like to make a deal."

Less than ten minutes later, the plan was hatched, and she hung up. "I don't know, Max. I don't like leaving you with her, and who knows how many other people she has working for her." She handed him the piece of paper she'd written all the information on.

He pulled the address up on Google Maps. "She chose this place for a reason. It looks like a deserted farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. We've got to be clever about our plan, or she'll spot it a mile away. I…
we
need to outmaneuver her and be one step ahead of her. We know she paid Treno via a dummy corporation. I had Jennings trace the transfer."

"You guys have access to more stuff than I could imagine as a police officer."

"That's because you have to play by the rules. We don't."

"Are you trying to tell me something by using the word
we
? Are you giving up your life of luxury to get down and dirty?"

"Believe it or not, it's not much of a stretch for me."

"I'm getting a different impression of you than I had when we first met. You're a little rough and tumble and can definitely hold your own."

"That's assuming the fight is fair."

"I always fight fair…well, except I kind of did sucker-punch you…" The smile twisted the edge of her lips. She did a muscle pose. "Black eye courtesy of the good old NYPD."

He felt her bicep. "Nice guns. But the shiner I'm never going to let you forget."

"That's a given." She kissed the corner of his eye. "But let's face it—we both have some war wounds courtesy of this journey." She touched the gouges healing on his neck and his wrapped arm.

"You started the whole thing by bleeding like a stuck pig after the drive-by. I didn't want to tell you how bad the wound was at the time because I didn't want you to freak out."

"Do I look like the type of gal who freaks out at a little blood?"

"Nope, but there's a little, and then there's the deluge that was pumping out of you. Not being graphic or exaggerating, of course."

"No. Not you." She shook her head and smiled.

"You're a tough chick." He traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertip. "I really like that."

"I'm not the usual kind of women you seem to hang around with. They fit with the fancy-pants guy, but I'm not sure about this guy that came to play for keeps."

"Those women were distractions. Arm candy."

She punched his arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're arm candy as well, just at another level. Did I tell you the first time I saw you, I couldn't stop staring at your hair? I did see you before the night when Damon died."

"When was that?"

"You were being honored or something at a police thing, and the ceremony was across from the benefit I was at. I spotted you in a slinky hot red dress with your brother on your arm. At the time, I thought you were a cougar. Didn't realize it was Mick."

"Seriously? I don't remember seeing you."

"See, I'm not memorable, but you are. Clearly."

"Are you trying to get into my pants? Because if you are, I do believe it's working."

"That wasn't my intent initially, but now that you mention it. It does sound like a great way to pass the time, doesn't it? Naked and all that. Besides, that was kind of the deal when I told you all my deep, dark secrets."

"A deal is a deal, I guess. Besides, you've been trying to get me naked for a while now, haven't you?"

"Does this mean you forgive me for pseudo-shooting your brother?"

"Nope. That was cruel and unusual punishment." She smirked. "I kind of get why you did it, but that was ten hellacious hours. But I think you might have saved him. I don't think he would have survived there much longer."

"He's safe now. And we're going to make sure he stays that way until this is over."

"I like the way you said that. Did you think he was guilty at one point? Tell me the truth now."

He winced. "Okay, maybe for a little bit."

"Liar. You thought for a long time. You were stalking him. He told me that. I caught you, as I recall."

He slid his arm over her shoulder. It felt so good. "Water under the bridge. It's all good now."

"Buttering me up again." She yanked her sweater over her head. Then grabbed his hand and walked toward the bedroom.

Who said great sex put a guy to sleep? Apparently not when Max had three or four people lying in wait ready to kill him. Gianna had set the trap. Everything was good to go.

But he couldn't let her take the risk. Enough people had risked their lives because of him. It was time he took responsibility for his own mess and ended this whole thing once and for all.

Despite what she thought about their partnership in taking down Cleo and her cohorts, that was not the way he planned on playing this scenario. He loaded everything he needed into his bag and took out the handcuffs she'd intended to use to perpetrate their ruse. He'd let her believe that was his objective.

But he'd had different plans all along. Some things a guy had to do alone. This was one of them. He watched the digits flip on the clock as the time got closer. Everything in his head, he had worked out to perfection. But glitches and unforeseen consequences were always part of any operation. There were always one or two along the way. Where they'd come along to bite him was always the mystery.

He glanced at Gianna as she slept, and a kind of sadness enveloped him. Figured—he finally found a woman he actually liked at a time when he might not make it out of this alive. Instead of dwelling on the possibility, he dressed in a dark pair of cargo pants and T-shirt The Alliance kept on hand at their safe houses. He pulled out the handcuffs, clicked one onto her wrist and the other onto the bedframe, kissed the top of her head, and slid out the door.

The car rental place opened at 5:00 a.m. And he was right on time.

*   *   *

Cold?

Why was Gia cold? Max's body generated enough heat to power a blast furnace. With her left hand still tucked under her pillow, she patted the mattress behind her.

No Max.

Her eyes flew open. When she tried to sit up, she recognized problem number two. She spotted the note lying in his place on the bed.

Had to do this my way. M

Damn him. She should have known he'd try to go it alone. All the planning and plotting he'd done with her had been a ruse.

Good thing she'd spirited away Jennings's number when Max was in the shower the other night. Now, if she could only get to her cell phone…

*   *   *

Max's fingers twitched as he shifted the bag over his shoulder. He'd parked the rental about a half mile away and walked through the woods toward the deserted farmhouse. The meet time wasn't for another couple of hours, but he had no doubt they'd already set up a perimeter. Nobody of that ilk—including himself—ever played by the rules. Agreements flew out the window. Which was why he knew they'd kill Gianna rather than pay her the twenty million. The last few days had allowed reflexes he'd abandoned long ago to come back with a vengeance. For the first time in a very long while, he felt in his element. This time it felt okay to be a killer. He used the binoculars he'd procured to check for lookouts. This wouldn't be a one-person operation, despite Cleo's protests to the contrary.

It wasn't long before he spotted the first person. They'd set up watch in a lower branch of one of the trees outside the property—like a hunter might hang out in a tree stand. It was impossible to tell if the lookout was male or female from his distance, as the person was covered head to toe with some kind of camo getup.

He considered his options for less than thirty seconds before he aimed. Long-range sniper shots weren't his forte, but the margin for error was diminishing. He needed to get this right the first time. And this was about survival, not some twisted game of brainwashing. His hands were surprisingly steady when he braced the butt of the rifle in his shoulder and squeezed off the shot.

The body crumpled off the stand, landing soundlessly on the leaf-covered ground.

Done.

One down. An indeterminate number left to go.

He trudged to the spot where the body had fallen and dragged him—he had confirmed now that it was a he—further into the woods. Leaving him lying there wasn't a risk he wanted to take now. Sooner or later somebody would realize this guy was MIA, but he'd just as soon it be later.

That perimeter location had been easy enough to sniff out. The others lying in wait wouldn't be that simple. He crept closer and adjusted the binoculars to examine the front of the ramshackle home. Two floors and no lights visible. They could be anywhere. Nothing from here on in would be easy.

From his estimation, the sun would be up in about forty-five minutes. And going in blind wasn't ideal for what he had in mind. Instead, he hunkered against the closest tree and kept his night-vision binoculars affixed to his face. Sooner or later somebody would come looking for tree guy. He only needed to be patient.

About ten minutes later, another person of indeterminate gender exited the home. Based on the size, he'd guess another man. Wouldn't surprise him, considering Cleo's past history of wrapping men around her finger.

The guy scanned the perimeter of the building but didn't call for his buddy. Probably figured out Max was close by. The guy grabbed binoculars and focused on the tree the guy Max had taken down had been waiting in. Max had to assume they were night vision as well.

Crap. He'd just lost the miniscule advantage he'd possessed.

The guy did a sweep with the binoculars of the surrounding ground. Max rocked the rifle against his shoulder and waited. A slight shift to the left, and he'd have him in the target range. But patience seemed to be his worst enemy as the man stayed behind the front porch pillar.

Max sucked in a slow breath and waited for the opportunity. One mistake. That was all he needed. But time wasn't on his side. The sun would be up shortly.

The guy turned to return to the house and exposed himself for a fraction of a second.

Done.

Two down.

But now things got a whole lot more complicated. It would be difficult to ignore a dead body blocking the front door. Whoever was left would come after him, and the rifle wouldn't help. He disassembled the rifle and put it in his duffel. Keeping them at bay would require a much-different skill set.

*   *   *

Damn him.

Gia fought with the combination of fear and anger that warred inside. Most of the anger was directed at herself. She should have known he'd never let her come along. He was stubborn enough to think he could do it all himself.

She yanked at the handcuffs attached to the wooden frame without success. Yep, that would have been way too easy. When she hopped out of bed and tried to drag the bed toward her purse and phone, that didn't work either. It was too heavy and cumbersome to get far.

Instead, she shoved her shoulder into the bedframe, making it crash against the wall. Max said the walls were made of concrete. With enough force and determination, eventually she could break through the wooden frame. Or maybe not. Either way, it was the only thing she could think to do for the time being.

*   *   *

Instincts Max had long since abandoned kept him vigilant as he walked through the woods surrounding the farmhouse. He held the two 9mms close to him—along with spare clips, two knives within convenient reach, and a couple of flash bangs—as he sprinted toward the structure. The element of surprise was blown after he'd taken out that last guy, so he figured he might as well come in guns blazing.

He hit the door with a kick aimed at the flimsy lock. The door fell open, bringing a part of the frame along with it. He came in like Antonio Banderas in
Desperado
—except in dark-colored head-to-toe camo. No doubt Gianna would laugh hysterically at the comparison.