Nixon pressed another button; another door opened. Right. Another door.
Inside that room were semi-automatic guns, tear gas, bullet proof vests, C-4, scuba equipment, and a few terrifying looking contraptions that reminded me of every single historical romance I'd read that had talked about medieval torture.
"I'd start with the tear gas." He threw a few cans at me then pulled out a duffel bag. "…then the smoke." He tossed something else into the bag. "Once the smoke clears and the fire alarms go off, the sprinkler system will be activated." He sighed and grabbed two semi-automatics. "You'll have five minutes, maybe six, before men start running to your location. You'll either need to fight or create another diversion so you can search the house."
"Or…" I reached for one of the guns. "…I kill all but one, torture him, then find out where Sergio is."
"Too much time, Andi. You won't make it."
"Watch me."
"Andi…" Nixon's hand closed over the gun. "…this is a suicide mission. You get that, right? Chances of him coming out of there alive are next to zero. We don't know how Petrov works. We've never been to his compound. Hell, we don't even know if he's there. This could all be for nothing."
I jerked the gun away. "I have to try. Besides, I'm Russian. We live for zero odds. Makes the victory that much sweeter."
Nixon smirked, dropping his head. "Shit, Trace is going to kill me."
"Why?"
He grabbed a vest and put it over his head. "I'm his boss. I'm also his cousin. I go in with you, or you don't go in at all."
"The hell you will!"
He pushed me back, actually pushed me. "That's right." He nodded. "I have no issue with pushing you, punching you, shooting you. You're my equal, and he's my family. I go in, or we don't go at all. Those are your options."
"I could just dropkick your ass."
"Sweetheart…" Nixon licked his lips, another smirk forming. "…I'd really like to see you try."
I backed away then turned around, trying to trip him with the back of my leg. I was out of practice and already severely wounded, so it wasn't surprising at all that he'd seen it coming a mile away. He gripped me by the ankle and flipped my entire body onto the ground then hovered over me; a gun pressed to my chin. "Keep wasting my time. See what I do. See how far I'll go."
I nodded; the tip of the gun was cold against my skin. "Fine, but we do it my way."
"Not surprised, you're shit at taking directions anyway." He got off the ground and held out his hand. "Oh, and don't tell the others. They'll just follow. We go out the back, we take—"
"Dibs on the Chiappa shotgun. That bad boy hasn't been used yet, and I plan to get dirty." Chase burst into the room and reached for a vest.
"What are you doing?" Nixon asked in a calm voice.
"We had a family meeting while you were in here being all self-sacrificial." Chase shrugged. "I know you, Nixon. You wouldn't let her go on her own. Where you go I follow. It's kind of the deal since we're brothers from another father. Ha! Get it?"
Nixon clenched his jaw. "Chase—"
"Make sure they all have silencers. We don't want nosey neighbors calling the cops on us." Tex entered the room followed by Frank and Mil.
Mil was already grabbing knives and strapping them to her leg.
Mo followed and then Trace.
"Wait." I held up my hands. "What's going on?"
Phoenix entered last and offered an unapologetic smile. "It's an Italian thing."
"Blood." Frank moved to the middle of the small armory. "But we do this the old way, not the new way where you children run in guns blazing."
"Love it when he calls us children," Chase sang in a bored voice.
Frank smacked him on the back of the head. "Listen closely and listen well."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sergio
SOMETHING JAMMED INTO MY WRIST. I tried to pull away, but I was too weak, too hot, too tired. I lazily glanced down. An IV had been started. What the hell? Where was I?
A hand slapped my cheek. I blinked hard, trying to focus.
The man chuckled. "Wouldn't give you the satisfaction of tasting the water. This way you don't die of dehydration, but you don't get to feel the coolness against your lips."
I was going to murder him.
I lunged, but I was so weak it felt like I had barely moved, barely blinked.
"Ah-ah…" Petrov held up a finger. "Remember who the real enemy is."
The real enemy.
Andi?
No. Yes. My mind and my heart were at war with one another. I felt like I was missing something — but I had no idea what.
"She betrayed you… and it's been two days. Your family has yet to come for you. I bet they're in on it too. In fact, they are. Aren't they, Sergio?"
"No." I shook my head. "They would never."
"But they did, Sergio. None of them truly care about you. They hate you. They left you for dead. Andi despises you. Even if they do come for you, it will be pointless because they are the enemy, aren't they?"
I nodded. Why was I nodding?
"Very good." He clapped. "I think you've earned a respite from the fire."