Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (30 page)

“No! No, let him go! Get Kingsley, just run!” she yelled, trying to wave him away.

“I'm not leaving while he's still -”

“Just do it! He's going to blow -”

BANG.

Everything went quiet, and Lily let out a deep breath. Once again, time slowed down. It had started snowing again, and she watched as fat snowflakes fell lazily in front of her, swooping down in wide circles. One landed on her eyelash, and she smiled, trying to blink it away.

How strange. It doesn't hurt. Not at all.

“
LILY!
”

It wasn't Marc screaming her name, but Kingsley. As she fell to her knees, she watched as the dashing British man sprinted towards her. But he couldn't make it. There were just too many of them. He was tackled from behind, his weapon flying out of his hands. Marc went to dash towards her, but Stankovski had recovered his own gun, and shot Marc in his left shoulder again. This time, he was at a much closer range. The bullet ripped through flesh, knocking Marc to the side and sending him crashing into the stable door.

Lily looked down at herself. Her tank top was black, but she could see the darker patch spreading across her abdomen, stemming from a point on her right side. She brought a hand to her back and felt at the blood spot there, as well. Could feel blood running down her back and side, soaking the top of her pants.

No, getting shot certainly wasn't as exciting as Kingsley had made it out to be.

Of course, every time Kingsley had been shot, he'd always escaped to tell the tale. Lily had a distinct feeling her story would die right along with her.

All my plans, and they were both right. I never once planned for the possibility of failing
.

The bodyguard who had shot her came out from around the side of the building and he pressed the barrel of his gun to the side of her head. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see her guys. Their shouting and yelling was bad enough. She'd let them down, so much. She felt awful. But then Stankovski's voice came in above it all.

“
No! Leave her for me!
”

When she opened her eyes back up, it was to find him walking towards her. Marc was on his knees, his hands bound in front of him. Kingsley had it worse – he was face down on the ground, all but screaming obscenities while a bodyguard effectively hog-tied him. When he was rendered immobile, the guard stomped on his back a couple times.

“Stankovski,” Marc's voice sounded ragged. “You hired me to steal those diamonds. I took her hostage, I got rid of them, I'm who your fight is with. Let them go.”

“De Sant, really, you think it's that easy? Do you think there's anyway I'm going to let
any
of you go? No, it ends tonight, for all of you. Actually, I think it's worked out rather well,” Stankovski began, moving to squat in front of her.

“Really? Doesn't seem that way from my point of view,” she managed a laugh. One side of her was freezing, holding so still in the chilly air, snow falling on her. The other side was warm from the blood that was quickly soaking through her clothing.

“I suppose it wouldn't. You see, when I began using this property to funnel my trade through, I had this building outfitted with explosives. Enough to obliterate anything inside it. Destroy any evidence, as it were. When you showed up at my shop, I escaped through the sewers and came straight here. I meant to come here to destroy everything. When I realized you had shown up, I figured why not kill two birds with one stone – if you all stormed the stables, I'd just blow the whole thing.

“But conveniently for me, you're all outside
and
incapacitated. So it's seems I don't have to destroy all my product. I can just get rid of all my witnesses. All I've lost is the back end of my building. Pity, as it is a rather old building that I had painstakingly restored. But you shot the idiot who blew the explosives without my command, so you've done me another favor. Really, I suppose I should be thanking you,” he finally finished. Lily took a deep breath.

“You're very welcome. But you forgot some things – you've also lost your Manhattan business, and you've lost your wife. NYPD must be crawling all over that building by now,” she pointed out. He shrugged.

“I own half the NYPD, that is no problem, and Roksana was already costing me far more than she was worth. Again, you've done me a favor.”

“Any time,” she sighed. He suddenly reached out and dug his index finger into her bullet hole. She cried out and lurched forward. He was so close to her that she had nowhere else to go, so her head fell onto his shoulder and she clutched his bicep.

“I know De Sant is lying,” he whispered. From behind him, both Marc and Kingsley began shouting and struggling again. “I know it was
you
who threw away my diamonds. I now know that it was your plan all along, wasn't it? All for you darling sister. Pity. She was an amazing fuck, I would've like to have seen how you compared. But blood play isn't really my thing.”

Just when she thought she was going to throw up, he pulled his finger away and abruptly stood up. She fell forward onto her hands, her vision swimming. She almost passed out, but she clung to consciousness. She may have failed in all other aspects of her plan, but she would see this through to the end.

“Too bad. I'm amazing in bed. Maybe you should give me a chance,” she suggested, and he laughed loudly.

“I will have to take your word for it. I'm sorry, my dear, but you're damaged goods, and as hard as it is to believe, I hate to see a woman suffer. I much prefer to put them out of their misery,” he said, and she managed to push herself upright in time to see him cock his gun. She almost laughed when she realized what gun he was holding. A Glock 22. Her own, if she wasn't mistaken.

How fitting.

“Can we be done talking now? This really hurts,” she groaned, pressing a hand against her side.

“So bold!” Stankovski sounded surprised. “Still not scared, even when faced with death! No last goodbyes?”

Lily thought about it as the Russian leveled the gun on her forehead. Then she looked past him, to where Marc was on the ground. He was still shouting, still trying to crawl towards her. Two large men were holding him down, and were clearly struggling with the task. She smiled.

So strong. Even injured. Even held down. Still fighting, still moving. I wish … I wish I could've been more like you, Marc. I wish I could've had more time to learn from you.

“Sweetheart,” she chuckled, and he stopped moving so he could look her in the eye. “I don't know if it's love, or what love is, but I have to tell you – you became everything to me in Africa. You still were, afterwards. You still are, right now. You are, without a doubt, one of the best times I've ever had in my whole life. So thanks for that.”

“That's very sweet,” Stankovski cooed. She nodded.

“Wasn't it, though? Now how about we cut the shit and fucking end this, cause I'm getting really tired of talking to you.”

Gun shots rang out, and Lily fell to the ground.

Lily hit the ground and Marc was pretty sure he started screaming.

How can this be happening? How did it all get so fucked up, so fast? And did she just say she loved me!?

Stankovski hadn't pulled his trigger – the gun fire was coming from the trees behind the building. They must have cut across Lily's back. She was laying face down on the ground, and she wasn't moving. In the cold air, he could see steam rising off her back. Rising away from the blood.

She can't be dead. I didn't get to say it back to her. She can't be gone. Our plan isn't over yet.

There wasn't a thought in Marc's head, he went on auto-pilot. He jammed his shoulder back, catching one of his captors right in the nuts. The man groaned and fell into the other guard, so Marc took the opportunity and jumped to his feet. He body slammed into Stankovski and they both fell to the ground. Marc's wrists were still tied together, but he didn't let that deter him.

“
You motherfucker, I am going to rip off your goddamn head! You fuck!
” he was shouting, and then he headbutted the other man, breaking his nose.

Bodyguards quickly pulled him away, and both he and Stankovski were dragged behind the far side of the building. The Russian climbed to his knees and pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

“I see. You cared very deeply for that woman, didn't you?”

Marc was laying on the ground, but he still managed to kick Stankovski in the face.

“Let me shoot him, boss!” an overeager bodyguard shouted.

“
No!
No, I have plans for them. I don't know how you organized this attack, De Sant, but you didn't stop anything. The girl is still dead. She's lucky – you don't deserve anything so quick. Your death will be slow, and painful, and you'll
beg me
to end you. Pick them up! Get the cars!”

Whoever was shooting from the woods behind them, they began to advance towards the barn. Clearly, they weren't with Stankovski, and Marc had no clue who they were. Didn't care. Didn't care about anything. All he could see was his partner,
his girl
, laying face down on the ground and not moving.

Stankovski's bodyguards laid down cover, keeping their unknown assailants at bay while two men ran off into the woods on the opposite side of the property. Barely two hundred feet from where Marc, Lily, and Kingsley had spied on the stables, a large black suburban had apparently been hidden in the brush. It careened through the snow, fishtailing all over the place. It skidded to a stop next to them, and all the doors were opened. Marc and an unconscious Kingsley were tossed into the backseat, while Stankovski climbed into the front seat. Orders were barked for his guards to stand their ground and to find out who the fuck was firing at them.

“It's fucking over. We're not the only ones you've pissed off, asshole. Someone out there is going to find you and kill you,” Marc hissed as the car lurched forward in the snow.

“
You
haven't been very good at accomplishing that feat. I have faith in my good luck, that I will survive this day. Do you feel as lucky?” Stankovski challenged.

But Marc wasn't listening anymore. The car was racing past the stables, bullets pinging off the bullet proof exterior. Marc pressed his head to the glass, his eyes searching the ground. He could make out Lily's form, still laying flat and still. Her hair had come loose from its bun, flames spread out across the snow. Red, matching the blood that was staining the white all around her. A man was approaching her, kneeling at her side, and Marc began banging his forehead against the glass.

I let her down. Only woman I've ever cared about; only
thing
I've ever cared about. And I failed her. It should have been me. I'd rather it have been me.
Why couldn't it have been me!?

“
Corazón.
”

Sweetheart. Princess. Darling. And now corazón. How fucking hard is it to say Lily!?

When a bullet whizzed past her ear, Lily had honestly thought that Stankovski had missed, somehow. Some way. But after a split second, more bullets flew around her, and she dropped to the ground, pressing herself flat.

The shooting continued for a long time. It was all around her, it seemed like it was coming from all sides. She heard a car at one point, but couldn't quite pinpoint where it was coming from or which side had brought it. She didn't dare to lift her head – she could hear bullets hitting the ground near her.

She wasn't sure how long she was down for; long enough for all her wounds to make themselves painfully known to her. Her arm, her thigh, and especially her side. She wondered how much blood she'd lost.

Then the shooting seemed to die down. There were shouts around her, the occasional burst of gun fire. Stankovski's men were holing up behind the stables. Their unknown assailants were moving towards the stables from behind her, she could hear their footsteps getting closer. One set walked right up next to her, and then she felt a warm hand flat against her back. Heard a syrupy thick accent in her ear.

“Help me,” she whispered.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and she was pulled back up onto her knees. Then the hands moved under her arms and she hissed as she was forced to her feet. She stumbled to the side and was helped to lean against a wall.

“Looks like I got here at the perfect time.”

“Eh. A couple minutes earlier would've been better.”

Damiano Ledo laughed. It was a rich, deep sound that came from deep in his chest, and she almost laughed as well. If only she didn't feel so much like crying.

“Nice to know you still have that wonderful sense of humor. I see you've been shot,” he pointed out, then dropped low so he could examine her thigh.

“Twice. Or three times, I'm not sure, I lost count. What are you -,
ah!
” she let out a shout when his hands moved over her waist. That was the money shot. If she didn't take care of it soon, her bleeding would become a problem.

“What is this?” he asked, and she watched as he frowned, his hands moving around her stomach and torso.

“
That
is my insurance policy. I'd probably be dead without it,” she sighed, moving her hand behind his. He was feeling her Kevlar panels; replacements, bought after he'd caused her to lose her original set. Eight small squares, guarding her body from her bra line down to her pants. The bullet had nicked the side of one of the panels, changing its trajectory and sending it through the meaty part of her side.

“Yes, probably. But still, it's nasty. We should get it stitched,” he suggested, moving to stand next to her.

“No time. Do you have a car here?” she asked, and began limping away from him.

“Of course. We followed you, I had to make sure Stankovski was properly neutralized. When it looked like you were in trouble, we decided to advance,” he told her. She laughed.

“Neutralized, yeah. One way to put it. So I guess that secret hideaway you mentioned, it just happens to be in New York?”

“Most fortuitous, wouldn't you say?”

You realize I saved your life, and now you've saved mine? We're even now.”

“Pity.”

“Really?”

“Now I have no reason to keep following you.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, stopping at the entrance to the stables. “There's explosives! All around here, I think. He blew up -”

“Yes, I know. My men have been disabling them as they find them,” Damiano assured her.

“Good. Thank you. Now, a car. I really need a car,” Lily said, then hissed in pain while she moved through the doors.

“For what, may I ask?” he followed behind her.

“I need to go after them. Marc won't let them get too far. They all probably think I'm dead – I'll have the upper hand. I have to stop him,” she explained, moving as fast as she could to the back of the building. She went back into the office, the one where she'd found Stankovski. The guard she'd knocked unconscious was sitting up and moaning, but Damiano swiftly kicked him in the head, sending him back to lala land.

“You need a doctor. Or something. There may even be supplies here, I'm sure one of my men can stitch -” he began to argue. She slammed her hand down on the desk top.

“
No time!
” she shouted. “I don't have any time. No time, no weapons, not even a goddamn plan. So what I need you to do right now is not worry about me. I need you to go find me a fucking car.”

Damiano glared at her for a second. It was clear that he was unaccustomed to people speaking to him in such a manner. Finally, though, he left, and she could hear him yelling at his men in Spanish.

All she wanted to do was collapse. Everything hurt, and she was still losing blood. But she shook her head and got to work. She peeled off her lyrca leggings first. Both sides were coated in blood and there was a huge hole from where she'd been shot in the thigh. She glanced at the wound. Not so much shot; it was more like a chunk had been ripped out of her leg. She grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk, cut apart one of the legs of her pants, then tied it around her thigh, above the wound, as snug as she could. She screamed out a few more curse words, but eventually, she had the material knotted tightly.

She was just managing to get her tank top off when Damiano jogged back into the room. He didn't say anything, just looked her over as she stood in front of him in her underwear and sports bra. He grimaced as he looked at her side. She ventured a look, as well. It didn't look as nasty as the one on her leg, it was more of a clean, straight through shot, but it was probably the worst. It was certainly bleeding the most. She pressed her tank top around it and then started opening drawers and cabinets.

“Help me find something,” she panted. “Anything, to wrap it up.”

There was a closet in the room. It was full of overalls and white tank tops, presumably put in place for stable hands, when the place had been run as an actual stable. They ripped a couple tank tops apart, and Lily bit down on a leather riding crop while Damiano packed her bullet hole with as much material as possible. She was shaking by the time he was wrapping pieces of the tops around her, holding the makeshift bandage in place. Then they cut up her tight tank top and used that to secure the whole thing.

“You really do not look well,” he told her. She nodded and pushed past him, digging in the closet.

“I might throw up, but that's fine. As long as I keep moving,” she breathed, yanking out another tank top and pulling it over her head. Then she pulled out the smallest pair of coveralls she could find and dragged them over her legs. She knotted the arms tightly around her waist. There. She may have looked ridiculous, but she was dressed.

“You won't keep moving like this, not for long. Please, let us do something for you,” Damiano insisted.

“Like what? Take me to a hospital? Nearest one is miles away. Marc and Kingsley would be dead by then,” she growled.

He stayed silent for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. She didn't care. It wasn't his battle. She was appreciative of his interference – it had saved her life, after all. But he wouldn't interfere with this. She was going to go get her boys back.

Lily had barely made it around the desk when Damiano returned. He didn't say anything, just walked past her. She heard him sit down in the chair, but she didn't turn around. She was trying to ignore the incredible amount of pain she was in; everything from her hair to her toes hurt.

“It is not much, but it'll help you get through the next hour or two,” he finally spoke from behind her. She slowly turned to face him.

“What the fuck is this?”

Nice and neat even white lines sat in front of her. At first glance, she almost thought it was snow from outside. But that was stupid. She was talking to a drug lord; to
the
drug lord.
Of course
he had cocaine readily available to him.

“This is the best money can buy, and I am offering it to you for free.”

“No thanks, I don't really feel like getting high right now.”

“Obviously. But you are two steps away from collapsing. This will give you energy, and it will help with the pain. If I had an EpiPen, I would offer that to you. Sadly, this is all I have. Now I strongly urge you –
take it.
”

She hesitated. Lily had only done coke a couple times, at lavish parties thrown by her Bratva bosses back in her money laundering days. Even then, she'd only done it when it would have seemed odd for her to decline. It had been years since those days. Still. He was right. She did feel sluggish, and tired, and weak. Three things that wouldn't help Marc and Kingsley.

Damiano held out a tightly rolled dollar bill and she snatched it from him. Like ripping off a band aid, she took the lines one right after the other, one, two, three.

“Okay,” she gasped for air as she stood upright. “Okay, I did it. Now, lets get out of here before I have a fucking heart attack.”

They made their way back through the stables. Lily was surprised to see several women moving about the building, rounding up the children and wrapping them in blankets.

“They will be taken care of,” Damiano assured her, noticing her stare. She glanced up at him.

“How? I don't want to save all of them just to find out you're using them to run drugs or some bullshit,” she snapped. He nodded.

“No. They will be turned over to the State of New York, along with the story of how they got here. If you don't succeed in killing Stankovski tonight, I will at least succeed in killing his chances of operating freely in the Americas. The children will be safe,” his voice grew hard, almost like she'd offended him. “We will account for all of them, then they will be bused into the city. Children are precious to me, I would never do anything that would hurt them.”

It wasn't like Lily was in a position to argue with him, or to grill him. She worried about the children, but for now, they were safe. Her boys weren't. She had to trust Damiano, trust that he would do what he said.

Please let him be telling the truth. I don't know if I have enough energy to launch another crusade against an international criminal.

They went outside and she saw that Damiano's men had wrangled together all of Stankovski's remaining guards and were tying them up. A beat up looking El Camino was pulled up in front of the building and was left running.

“Not the best, I'm sorry to say. We mobilized quickly, took what we could find. Be careful in the snow. There is a map on the seat, it has Stankovski's main house marked, and a couple of the other buildings. Guest house, barns, things like that,” he explained.

Lily was nodding her head, listening to him while she struggled to keep up with his pace. She wasn't watching her feet, so when she kicked something solid underneath the snow, she was caught off guard. She looked down, and there was something dark a few feet in front of her. She bent down and began to dig through the snow, then pulled back, shocked. After a second, she started laughing.

“I can't believe it,” she fought for air.

“Oh no. I should never have given you drugs. You are delirious,” Damiano groaned. She shook her head, still laughing as she picked the object up.

“No. I'm fine. I think everything is going to be
just fine,
” she laughed, and then brushed snow off her Glock 22.

This has to be a sign. Please let this be a
good sign
.