Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Fain would be more than pleased to get a man like de Vries in the hot seat, giving up secrets about how outside businesses were working against US interests and citizens abroad.
De Vries’s group turned, realizing they were trapped.
“I don’t believe you. You couldn’t have had time to plan this,” de Vries said.
Tag snorted. “I am a planner, asshole. And as I plan to be at my friend’s birthday party soon, why don’t you drop those guns and we’ll take you in nice and easy.”
Brody kept his sights on the mercenaries, fairly certain Fedor’s men had no interest in a two-sided fight. He knelt down beside Tucker. He was the only one close enough to get a hand on the bloke. “Come on now, then. It’s time to get you away from here.”
Tucker moved, but not in the right direction. He paid zero attention to Brody, stepping toward the Belgian group. “What’s my name?”
De Vries wasn’t taking his eyes off the real threat. If he heard Tucker, he didn’t let anyone know. “We can make a deal, Taggart.”
“That time is over,” Big Tag replied. “I’m no longer the man who controls your fate. Talk to the CIA, buddy.”
Tucker looked over at Tag. “He knows my name. He might be the only person in the world who knows my name.”
Taggart nodded. “And Mr. White will get that out of him. I promise you, Tucker.”
“I know all the terrible things you’ve done, Razor. What kind of game are you playing?” de Vries asked. “Are you trying to hide from the authorities? What happened to the doctor you were working with? Now, Taggart, if you want a truly evil person, you should talk to Razor’s lover, Dr. Hope McDonald. He’s the one you should hand over to the Agency. He’s the one who can show you all the terrible things they’ve done together.”
“No. No. No.” Tucker’s hands went to his head as if he was hearing some terrible sound no one else could. An animalistic cry came out of his mouth, the sound jarring Brody to motion.
Oh, god. Brody felt sick to his stomach. Tucker had worked with McDonald? He was the kindest of all the men who’d had their lives destroyed. What had happened? Had McDonald turned on her lover? Or had he realized that time was up and taken the only way out that didn’t include death or prison?
How would he handle it if he found out he’d been an evil son of a bitch in a life he didn’t even remember?
Tucker buckled over, clutching at his head. It was part of the drug and the conditioning the doctor had given them. When they tried to think too hard, tried to remember, pain flared through their systems. He’d seen a couple of the Lost Boys throw up and shake for hours after the pain came.
De Vries looked at Tucker and seemed to realize this was the distraction he’d been praying for. He shouted something to his men that Brody didn’t understand. What he did understand was the gunfire suddenly coming his way.
Brody leapt toward Tucker, who seemed utterly incapable of moving. He knocked the man over and felt his breath blow out of his body as he took a hit. Hurt like fuck, but he knew immediately that the bullet hadn’t pierced the armor Tag insisted on everyone wearing. He was better equipped than the damn mercenaries who had managed to get their guns and ammo here in the States, but hadn’t bothered with body armor.
Tag had forced anyone on the ground to dress in full-out tactical gear. Brody had dreaded the extra weight, but now it came in handy as the bullets started to fly.
He needed cover.
“Get him to the side.” Fedor stepped in front of him, firing off a few shots as everyone seemed to scramble.
Brody got to his knees, getting a hand on Tucker’s shirt. “Come on!”
Tucker’s head came up, his eyes not quite focused. “Leave me.”
“Not on your life.” He didn’t care what the lad had done before. Brody knew who he was now. Hell, they didn’t know anything at all. De Vries could be lying through his teeth for all they knew. Now wasn’t the time to figure things out. He needed to stash Tucker somewhere so he could get on to the work of the day—killing de Vries or making his life a living hell. One of the two.
“Move it,” Fedor ordered. “I’ve already taken a hit. I’m getting my men out of here in a few minutes. I don’t want trouble with Taggart.”
So he would try to make sure Tucker didn’t get them both killed. Brody looked up, glancing around the room. His best bet was ten feet to his left. There was what looked like a long row of almost ceiling-high crates.
He looked back and Taggart and O’Donnell had taken up positions, while the snipers seemed to be doing their jobs. Remy, Shane, and Declan were up in the rafters, using their skills to pick off de Vries’s men one by one.