Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (32 page)

Time. Why is there never enough time?

Stealth and her knife had neutralized the two remaining guards, who'd been lingering by the garage. Her next stop was the kitchen, where she knocked the fridge over and blocked the door from the hallway. Then she'd gone out through the back door, locking it behind her before jamming a fork into the key hole and breaking it off. Even if someone managed to move the fridge out of the way, they would have to break the hinges off the door before they could get out.

The entrance to the basement was right next to the kitchen, just off the living room. There was a hallway, which led to a bathroom and two guest rooms. Except for one guest room, the doors all got the same broken fork treatment, sealing them shut. Then she cut the power. The only light source was a roaring fireplace, and the only way out of the house was through the living room, which she promptly dragged several burning logs into the middle of and then left them there.

With her luck, Lily knew there was a possibility it wouldn't work. The logs could simply go out; fire was fickle at the best of times, and there wasn't time to look for lighter fluid or gasoline. But when she came to the top of the stairs, she knew her luck had changed. A fire was crawling across the ornate rug, already engulfing a chair, climbing the side of the stairs, and cutting a path to a set of windows, eating up the expensive drapes as well as cutting off access to the front door.

“You bitch!” Stankovski was shouting, stomping on some of the flames while shakily pointing a gun at her. She crouched low and immediately winced, pain lancing through her side. She pulled her own gun out of her pants, but kept it at her side. She only had three bullets left. She couldn't afford to waste them.

“You know,” she started, slowly moving further into the room. “You could die with some dignity. Like a man. Just put your gun down.”

He didn't even turn to look at her, just began shooting. She dove to the side, then hissed and scrambled backwards when she got too close to the fire. She sat back on her haunches and aimed her own gun. But her arms weren't steady. She couldn't quite catch her breath. She gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger, but knew she was off. The shot went wide, breaking out a window pane.

Stankovski ducked anyway, diving behind a chair that was near him. Lily dragged herself backwards, barely getting behind a sofa before he started shooting back at her. She collapsed on the floor, sucking in deep breaths.

Finish this.

She sat up and checked her magazine again, just to be sure. Two bullets left. Then she moved into a crouch and peeked into the room. Flames had completely taken over the stairs, they were impassable now, and they were licking up the walls between the windows, making them a hazard, as well.

She was so focused on the room, trying to see if she could spot any part of Stankovski around his chair, that she didn't even hear anything behind her. So it came as a shock when Marc came jogging out of the hallway.

“Sweetheart, I -”

A bullet slammed into him, causing them both to shout and him to fall back against a wall. Lily hurried to him, double checking that it was only his shoulder that had been hit – the same shoulder,
again
. But when she turned around, it was to see Stankovski running across the room towards them, his gun leading the way.

Fuck this.

Lily jumped up and kicked the back of the antique couch as hard as she could. The piece of furniture flew forward, catching Stankovski in the knees and sending him face first into the velvet cushions. She rushed forward, swinging her gun over the couch and firing. But Stankovski had already rolled off the sofa.

“Have to be quicker than that, little girl!” he shouted, and with a roar he lifted the whole couch, catching her under the arms. She shrieked as she was thrown to the ground, the sofa landing on top of her.

Stankovski jumped up, but he didn't even have a chance to lift his own gun. A poker went flying through the air and pierced straight through his shoulder, sending him to the ground with a shriek of pain. Lily wiggled her way out from under the couch and glanced back at Marc, who was wincing in pain and gripping onto his bad shoulder.

“
Move your ass!
” he shouted.

Lily didn't need to be told twice. With a second wind that came from god knew where, she leapt over the couch. Stankovski had managed climb to his feet and he pointed his gun at her, but he was too late. She was too close. She grabbed his wrist, forcing the weapon away from her as he fired it, and she spun into him, throwing her elbow into his face before ripping the gun out of his hand.

She didn't stop there. She kept moving, dropping the gun while using her free hand to grab the poker in his shoulder. He managed to slap her across the face, hard enough to send her to her knees, but it worked against him; she had a death grip on the poker, and he screamed as she pulled it down with her. He went to his knees as well, and she wrapped two hands around the piece of iron, twisting it before ripping it out of him.

Inertia sent him falling forward, so she lunged to the side. Stankovski caught himself with his good arm, but it didn't matter. With a primal scream that was born of five years worth of frustration, anger, and hatred, Lily lifted her arms high above her head before driving the poker straight down, lancing him through his calf. The pressure she had behind her swing was immense, all of her weight went into the follow through, and she could feel the metal lodge solidly into the hardwood floor beneath his leg.

Anatoly Stankovski was now nailed to his living room floor, while his house burned down around him.

He screamed at first, but by the time Lily had climbed to her feet, he was actually laughing. She slowly walked around him, wiping sweat from her forehead. The room was growing intolerably hot, the flames now spreading across the ceiling above them. She came to a stop in front of him, one hand pressing against the wound in her side.

“Very, very clever, my dear. Leave me to burn to death in my own home. I'm very impressed,” Stankovski sighed, managing to kneel upright in front of her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. He raised an eyebrow.

“I'm intrigued. You've beaten me up, you've nailed me to a floor, and you've set my house on fire. If you tell me you're letting me go, I will be shocked.”

Remembering what he'd done to her when she'd first gotten shot, she leaned forward and gripped his shoulder, digging her thumb into the jagged hole left by the poker.

“This is for Kingsley,” she hissed in his ear. She didn't let up till he whimpered, then she took a step back.

“We're no different, you and I. Means to an end, violence for profit, torture; I really think -”

She slammed her fist across his face.

“And
that
was for Marc.”

He chuckled and rubbed at his jaw while Lily took a few steps away, grabbing his gun off the floor.

“I see now – love conquers all, does it? Do you really think it's love? I'm very rich, I could give you -”

She shot him in his side, thigh, and bicep – all the same places she'd been shot that day.

“And that … that was for me,” she said, wiping away a tear before it could fall. Stankovski was gasping for air, struggling to stay upright. He was dirty, he was having trouble breathing, and he was bleeding from multiple points, and still, he managed to laugh.

“You've used up all my bullets. Pity. Now you won't get to watch me die. Wasn't that your plan?” he chuckled.

Lily dropped his gun and reached behind her back, pulling her Glock out from her pants and moving to press the muzzle to the center of his forehead.

“One bullet left,” she whispered. He visibly swallowed. “This bullet has waited a long time to meet you. Traveled a very far distance.”

“I'm flattered,” he whispered back. She racked the slide.

“This one … this one's for my sister.”

And without hesitation, she pulled the trigger.

It sounded loud to her. She'd been listening to gun shots all day. But that one, it echoed through her brain.

It's over. It's really, truly over. Finally.

“Sweetheart! Hey, sweetheart!
LILY!
”

She snapped out of it, suddenly realizing that Marc had been yelling at her for a while. She looked over her shoulder to find him hobbling towards her.

“This whole place is going down! Let's get the fuck out of here!”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her into the hallway. They ran down the length of it and he led the way through the bedroom door she'd left unlocked. Inside, a window had been broken out and they both climbed through it. Marc jogged ahead of her, to where he'd propped Kingsley up behind a tree.

The side of his head and clear down to his neck were covered in blood. One foot was off the ground as he obviously kept his weight off of it; there was a bullet wound in the center of his thigh. He was also holding is left arm awkwardly against his chest, and she realized it must have been broken. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and he had burn marks all over his chest.

Yet he had a cigarette burning between his lips, and he was smiling at her.

“Christ, darling, you look like shit. See what happens when you work without me?”

She smiled back at him, and then she promptly burst out sobbing.

Lily had spent a long time being a badass, so she let herself indulge in the moment and she openly cried as she fell into his arms. Well, his
arm
. He made soothing sounds, smoothing his hand over her back.

“I told you I'd make a shitty assassin,” she sniffled and cried into his chest.

“I think you made a wonderful assassin,” he whispered into her ear.

“
Liar
.”

“At least I'm good at it. Enough, no more tears. Remember? We made it. That's something to be happy about,” he pointed out.

“I'm crying because I
am
happy.”

“
Women
.”

She laughed and finally pulled away from him, but was surprised not to see Marc at their side. He'd walked a couple yards away, giving them some privacy. His back was to them, and he didn't move when she approached him.

“Marc,” she started when she got to his front. “I'm so sorry, for what happened back at the stables. I was rushing, I was … I was blind. I put us all in jeopardy, I don't know what I was -”

She wasn't able to finish as he grabbed her roughly by her arms and began violently shaking her.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” he shouted.

“Stop!
Stop it!
” she shrieked. He finally stopped jerking her around, but he didn't let go. If anything, his grip grew more painful.

“Do you think I fucking care!? Jesus, Lily, I thought you were
dead!
Do you understand that!? You were on the ground and you weren't moving!” he yelled at her. She nodded.

“I know, I realized that when I got up and you guys were gone. It was Damiano, he'd followed us with a small army. I'm sorry, Marc. I'm sorry,” she kept repeating herself. It was all she could think to say.

He yanked her close, crushing her against his chest, his arms so tight around her they made the wound in her side sing with pain. She felt a shudder rip through his body, and she pushed her pain away, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I knew you couldn't be dead,” he breathed. “I just knew it. Stankovski said it, Kingsley said it, but I just … I knew you couldn't be dead. You wouldn't leave me like that. You
can't
leave me.”

Tears are so very, very counter productive.

“Yes,” she cried. “I kept thinking that; that you would know I was coming, that you would be able to stop him, or slow him down.”

“I don't
ever
want to see something like that again,” he growled, and if possible, his arms grew tighter around her.

“Then next time we take a job,” she said her words slowly, “we'll make sure it's something easy. Like hamster theft.”

He barked out a laugh.

“I don't care. Whatever. As long as it's with you.”

“With me?”

“Always with you, sweetheart.”

“
Always.
”

He let her go, and she was barely able to suck in a breath when his mouth was over hers. His hands were in her hair, holding her in place. His tongue was in her mouth, reminding her how very glad she was to be alive.

Lily wasn't sure if she knew what love was, but surviving hell on Earth and then getting to kiss Marcelle De Sant like he was her reason for living, well, that had to be pretty close.

While the fire raged, they got Kingsley away by putting his arms around their necks and helping him to shuffle along. When his weight became too much for Lily's injuries, Marc finally hoisted him over his uninjured shoulder. When they made it to the wooden fence, Lily helped him maneuver Kingsley to the other side of it. But when Marc joined them, she instructed them to wait.

“For what?” he asked, but she was already jogging down the road.

“A surprise!”

With her bad leg and even worse side, it was a bitch to carry, but before she'd left the stables, Lily had wrestled Kingsley's big fifty caliber gun into her back seat. She held it by the barrel and walked backwards, dragging it along the ground. When she made her way back to the fence, Kingsley groaned at the sight of her.

“God, to see my baby getting treated that way,” he complained.

“Can you shoot it?” she asked, bending over and panting for air.

“Darling, I could shoot that gun with my tongue if I had to, but what exactly do you want me to shoot? Best I can tell, you've killed all the baddies,” he pointed out. She struggled to hoist the gun to rest on the fence, and Marc finally helped her.

“Maybe so, but in case shit went to hell in the house and we had to run for it, I had a back up plan. I still want to use it,” she replied, getting on her knees and looking through the scope. She moved the gun around, zooming in and out until she found what she was looking for. She struggled to get back to her feet.

“Why?”

“Because after everything we've been through, I think we deserve to go out with a bang.”

They had to help Kingsley get onto his good knee. Marc could've made the shot, he was in the best shape of any of them. Even Lily could've made the shot. But Kingsley had been hurt the worst. He'd been shot, tortured, hadn't gotten to see Stankovski die, and he was the only one who'd never actually been involved in the original plan.

He was owed some kind of vengeance.

“Ah,” he chuckled, and she knew he'd found it. “Very clever, darling. But just one?”

Lily squinted her eyes. The sun had almost set, leaving only dark sky over Stankovski's house, but the flames coming out of all the windows illuminated the grounds pretty well. She could just barely make out the round, white barrel she'd rolled underneath one of the living room windows. She'd found it outside the kitchen, along with two spares, connected to a fancy looking barbecue. She'd left one in the bedroom they'd escape out of, and one in a closet by the stairs.

Propane tanks.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Marc demanded. Lily laughed and pulled on his arm.

“Get down and just watch.”

They both covered their ears and watched. After a couple seconds, Kingsley pulled the trigger. Being so close to his gun, it sounded like a sonic boom, even with her hands over her ears. A split second later and an explosion rocked the front of the house, sending a heatwave clear across the lawn and over them. They all went flat on their stomachs as a mushroom cloud billowed away from the house and the flames almost doubled in intensity. Not too much later, a second explosion rattled the house. The third explosion caved in the roof.

And that, really and truly, is fucking that.

They all sat up and laughed, turning their backs to the inferno. In front of them, they could see the last of the sunset. The horizon was golden, which melted into a burnt orange, and eventually faded into the inky blue that was directly above them.

Lily was cold, and she was hurt, and she was quite possibly a little delirious from all the blood she'd lost, but she was happy. Unbelievably happy. Her plans had gotten all kinds of fucked up, and she had failed in more ways than one. Pretty much failed entirely.

But she had saved a bunch of children, and she had stopped a mad man. She had saved her friends, and stopped a butcher. She had saved herself, and she had accomplished her goal.

She'd worried that shooting Stankovski would irrevocably change her. That after the act, she would feel awful about herself, for fully turning into
that
person. The person Marc had claimed she wasn't meant to be. She'd been prepared to bear that burden, she really had.

It wasn't that way, though. She felt lighter. She felt freer. She felt better than she had in a very long time, in fact. And realizing that, made her realize something else.

I was always this person. It just took me a while to figure it out.

“I tell you what,” Kingsley finally broke their silence while he shoved his hand into his front pocket. “I need a vacation after this. A real bloody vacation.”

He pulled his fancy cigarettes free of his pants, but before he could open the pack, Lily yanked it out of his hands. She pulled out a cigarette for herself, and was about to hand the pack back, but then turned and offered it to Marc. He chuckled and grabbed one for himself before she handed the whole thing back to Kingsley.

“Solidarity,” she said with a shrug when he stared at her for a second. He chuckled, put his cigarette between his lips, lit it, then passed the lighter off to her.

Pretty soon, three thin trails of smoke wafted into the air above their heads. They sat in contented silence for a while, watching the sun dip lower and lower.

“Vacation. I like that idea,” Marc sighed, surprising her by puffing out a smoke ring.

“Do you hear that noise?” Kingsley mumbled, cocking his head to the side.

“I only hear the fire,” Lily replied, taking one last long drag on her cigarette before flicking the butt into the snow.

“Somewhere warm, too. I hate the fucking snow,” Marc commented, chucking his cigarette to the same spot as hers.

“No, I definitely hear something. Is that … music?” Kingsley kept on. Lily was pretty sure she heard it, too, but she didn't really care. She turned her head to look at Marc.

“Colombia was warm,” she reminded him. He nodded, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

“Yeah, yeah it was. But I was thinking somewhere nicer.”

“That's definitely music. And a car engine – someone's coming,” Kingsley warned.

“Miami?” Lily suggested.

“Nah, not exotic enough.”

“Bloody hell, I think that's a Bollywood song.”

“Exotic, huh. I hear Hawaii is great.”

“I hate poi. But you know what I love?”

“A fucking Bollywood song, blasting from a car on a back country road in upstate New York. I have to meet this person.”

“What do you love?”

“Africa.”

“I see it! It's a black Ford Explorer!”

“Africa! I thought you hated Africa.”

“I grew to love it.”

“It's slowing down.”

“Love it, huh? How …
interesting.
”

“Yeah. So I'm thinking you, me, surf, sand. Maybe a black bikini. Or no bikini.”

“It's stopping.”

“I'm invited! I'm shocked. So where are we going in Africa that has surf and sand and me in a black bikini, or not,” Lily teased, though she finally looked away from him to take in the car that Kingsley kept babbling about. The music had been turned down a little, but she could still hear the catchy beat. When the door opened and the driver leaned out, she had to say, she wasn't exactly surprised.

“We heard the explosions, I thought maybe you could use some help!” Damiano Ledo yelled to them. Lily just snorted and waved him away. Kingsley started laughing uncontrollably. Marc grabbed her arm and forced her to lay down.

“I'm thinking Pemba Island would be lovely this time of year,” he said, leaning over her.

“Oh, fuck that noise. I've been down that road. Take Kingsley. I'll go ahead and catch that ride with Damiano,” she laughed, playfully shoving at his shoulder. He ignored her and leaned closer, moving to kiss her throat.

“Ah, too late for that, sweetheart. This job was six months long, and now that I've got my payment, I'm not letting go,” he whispered, his lips working their way to her ear.

“What are you talking about, what payment?” she demanded. His hand pressed down against her chest, sliding over her throat.

“
You.
”

Well, gee.

“I'd go
anywhere
with you,” she whispered back.

“Oi!” Kingsley barked. “Get a room, you two. This public display of affection is ruining my digestion.”

“Shut up, Law.”

“Did you want a ride, or not!?” Damiano shouted, but they all ignored him.

“You're very lovely, darling, and I suppose De Sant is right, getting you in the end is a more than generous payment for a job well done,” Kingsley started, and he began digging his hand in his other pocket.

“Damn straight,” she said, nodding her head at him.

“I guess I'll just have to settle for these,” he sighed, pulling a flattened canvas bag out of his pocket.

Well, it wasn't entirely flat.

“I don't believe it!” Lily gasped, sitting up and grabbing the bag out of his hand. The diamonds had been spread out flat, so the bag hadn't really been noticeable in his loose black pants.

“You don't just leave something like that on the floor, darling. I scooped it up before I even went into that bedroom. I'm a professional,” he informed her.

It was Marc who started laughing first. So hard, he fell back into the snow. Lily caught the giggle bug next, and before long, Kingsley was laughing as well, around the fresh cigarette in his mouth. Lily glanced at him, then glanced down at Marc, and then looked back at the bag in her hand.

At the start of their journey.

We're alright. I think we're going to be alright.