“He had a dozen people at the house,” Dani reminded him, getting her head firmly back in the game. She was a hell of a better soldier than this.
“No,” Luke countered. He pulled the clip from the pistol; a single bullet remained. “Remember, he commandeered your father’s men. That was half of his strength. Minus the driver, that makes five. If he sent two on already, or they ran...”
“Whoa, that’s a lot of assumptions! Marcus only just got here, could he have gotten all of Daddy’s men back? If he sent some on or they deserted? That’s assuming a hell of a lot, especially when you have only one bullet left!”
“Did you just say ‘Daddy’?”
The blood rushed to her face. “Oh, shut up.”
“Yes, honey.”
It was a good thing Luke dove through the door, running crouched low to the other building. Otherwise she might have been forced to hurt him.
There were no shots. After a moment Dani followed, zigzagging and making sure to stay low to the ground. This time there were shots. She felt a tug on the back of her dress as she tucked in behind Luke.
Dani pulled the back of the dress around. There was perfect round little hole in the hem. “They shot my dress!”
“Maybe that’s something else we can talk about later?” Luke hissed. “First, stay alive; second, dry-cleaning?”
“No!” Dani hit his arm hard. Too hard. The pistol went off, discharging the final bullet.
Luke turned slowly to her. The look on his face was priceless. Chagrined, she shrugged, wincing only a little as Luke took the gun in the other hand and presented her with the grip. “Please, feel free to keep it.”
“Ok, I’m sorry, how was I supposed to know you’d have a trigger finger?” She met his stare. “Nothing else about you goes off early.”
Luke nodded. It seemed he’d concede that point.
A rumbling from overhead caught her ears. Luke swore. A private helicopter came into view. From a distance, sirens split the quiet of the countryside and grew louder as they got closer. It had taken them long enough. But then, the convention center, of course, had to be on the lake, with all that rustic charm.
“He’s getting away!” Luke called, and bolted to the door, leaping over the barely-lamented Katie. It seemed wrong somehow to just jump over her like that. But what could she do? The body was blocking the door. Dani leapt, her stomach lurching only a little, and followed as Luke bolted up the stairs. Dani stayed in hot pursuit. Another shot rang out but Luke ignored it, charging up the steps like a man possessed.
“STOP! LUKE! You’ll be killed!”
He wasn’t listening. The last time Dani had seen this kind of frenzy was in Eastern Europe, when their group had been pinned down for three days at a bombed-out orphanage. Finally, one of the men, Scully, had broken, charging out with a handful of grenades that he’d lobbed one after another at the approaching tanks. He’d been screaming, too, like Luke was now. Frantic to end it in an all or nothing attack.
It hadn’t ended well.
Silently begging Luke to not be another Scully she scrambled up the stairs after him, more often than not tangling her legs in her dress and stumbling to her knees, falling further and further behind. Her breath came in short bursts, and it was with surprise she found she was crying, only noticing when the salt of her tears met the open wound on her cheek.
Luke!
But all was silent. It seemed, however, that in this case, whatever possessed Benny’s boys to not bring extra ammo played against them, too. There were no further shots. Had they seriously not been expecting trouble? Or was Benny just that much of a skinflint?
The damn dress was slowing her down, despite her best efforts at trying to hold it out of the way. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, one of Benny’s finest was rolling down the stairs right at her. She didn’t take the time to check if the man was dead—there were other priorities. She leapt over the body and kept going.
From the landing of the second floor, she saw the banquet spread in the grand ballroom, everything laid out in a glittering array of light and elegance. The steps continued, and Dani cursed when she saw the sign that pointed straight upward. It was clearly marked HELIPAD.
Damn it. She looked around for something, anything to help. She grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and put another slit in the ruined dress. It was less than modest to a degree, but returned a freedom of movement that might be life-saving. She hefted the knife and thought of the old joke about being the idiot who brings a knife to a gun fight.
Bottles of Champagne sat in ice buckets under unlit candles. Steak knives were all that presented themselves as weapons. She thought a moment, grabbing what she saw as the most useful things there before bolting from the room and taking the steps two at a time. At the head of the stairs, another thug lay, the one who had roughed her up two nights ago, his neck broken.
She opened the door on a gun battle.
Luke had a pistol, presumably the gun the dead man had carried, and was hunkered down behind an air conditioner unit. So far the odds looked pretty even. On the far side of the roof, Jimmy hunched half behind a heating duct.
She saw him raise his gun, pointing directly at Luke.
Then he saw her.
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
Luke knew he was being an idiot. Charging headlong into fire was a good way to die futilely and painfully. But after the last two weeks, and especially the past couple of days, Benny was not freakin’ getting away.
Leaping over the body of Katie was a little too Rambo, but respect for the dead was best left until the living were safe. He ran up the stairs as best he could, but the beating he’d taken and the forced idleness had taken their toll on his muscles.
Dani was still right behind him. Luke had a mix of annoyance and fear for her safety, all combined with a great deal of pride for a girl who was as stupid as he was. She was a partner in many ways, and it was good for someone to have your back. Now, if she would only stay back. Well back. Where she’d be safe.
He ducked a moment when the shot rang out, but decided that he’d had enough. No more of this, no more hiding or running. He reached the top step as the shooter was trying to clear a jam, and threw himself against the door the man had braced himself behind.
The shock of getting hit with the door gave Luke a moment to bring everything he had, his weight, years of training, and weeks of pent-up rage into a single elbow blow that came down behind the man’s skull. He collapsed in a pile. Luke looked at the pistol. The jam was bad; it would take several minutes to clear it, time he didn’t have.
He dragged the body free and sent it rolling down the stairs. Luke had a quick image of Dani leaping gazelle-like over a rolling corpse, like a macabre version of Donkey Kong. He looked into the banquet hall but the sound of the helicopter grew closer, and he saw the sign indicating that there was helipad on the roof. He grabbed a steak knife and bolted without thinking.