No One Heard Her Scream

To be safe, Diego peered through the thin fringe of light into the shadows. No sign of Brogan or Cavanaugh. And a door to the far right was ajar. Damn it! They had escaped. Would Draper know about this exit? He stood and stepped quietly down the ramp, gripping his gun in a two-fisted grip. With his back to a wall, he searched for movement as he made his way toward her, eyes alert. He pointed his gun into the shadows at every point he was vulnerable from attack, searching for Cavanaugh and Brogan. Behind old crates and discarded oil barrels. The nooks and crannies in this section were pitch-black. It was like staring into a bottomless vat of crude oil. But nothing.

In his mind, it made sense that they were gone. Cavanaugh would want a head start to leave the country and find a safe haven with no extradition. But Brogan was unpredictable.

As he got closer, Danielle appeared even more agitated. Poor little thing. It broke his heart. She had survived so much. No child should have to know such a hell existed, and yet she had endured it. A casualty, her innocence and sense of safety had been shattered, never to be restored.

When he got close enough, Diego held up his hand to calm her.

'Shhh. I'm here to help,' he whispered as he knelt by her. Setting the gun on the floor next to him, he retrieved one of his knives strapped to his leg. 'I am a friend of your sister Rebecca.'

'Oh, I'd say you and her sister are much more than friends.' Brogan's voice came from behind him. 'More like two fuckin' dogs in heat. The bitch and the mongrel.'

Diego stopped cold, holding his breath. Shit! Without making a move, he shifted his eyes down to his gun. Could he grab it and turn fast enough? But another sound to his left complicated everything. A crunch of dirt underfoot. Someone else in the room. Cavanaugh? Diego couldn't hit two targets from a crouch with his back turned. He swallowed, his throat parched with tension.

Stooped by Danielle, Diego stayed put. He gambled Brogan wouldn't shoot him in the back. The bastard would want to see the look on his face as he died. So predictable ... so very Brogan.

'Remember what I said a while back about the actions of a wise man? A smart man turns and walks away. Why are you still here, Brogan? Feds are crawling all over the building. Before long, they'll have this entire sector of the city under lockdown. I thought you and Hunter were smarter than that.'

'We are. That's why we have three guns pointed at your head,' Brogan gloated.

Three? Diego shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He glanced down at Danielle. Even with the gag in her mouth, her eyes said it all. His chance of saving her had blown up in his face. And she knew it. What now?

'Stand with your hands raised, but don't turn around,' Brogan ordered. Diego heard noise behind him, coming from other parts of the room. When he did as he was told, Brogan added a new wrinkle. 'Now turn around . . . real slow. And kick your gun to one of my guys . . . nice and easy.'

Diego palmed the knife in his hand and turned around. With his foot, he slid the gun to the nearest man. Cavanaugh stood next to the open hatch on the left. He had probably been hiding in the shadows on the other side of the door. When Diego locked his gaze on the man, Cavanaugh couldn't resist a smug remark.

'Glad you gave us one last shot at you, so to speak. Very considerate.'

Two of Brogan's men stood opposite each other, with one stepping out from behind a group of barrels. Straight ahead, Brogan emerged from a niche in a wall. The one flashlight on the floor kept them in shadows.

Now all eyes were on his gun, but it wouldn't take them long to see he had something wedged in his hand. Diego wanted to keep Brogan talking, but windy old Cavanaugh was his best chance.

'Leave this sickly girl, Hunter. She'll only slow you down. Take me instead,' he offered.

'Now why would I do that, Diego?' Cavanaugh stepped closer.

'You might get away from here. Although with time ticking, you're losing any advantage you may have. But this girl won't keep Rivera off your ass. Not like I would.'

Cavanaugh considered his point. He narrowed his eyes and pondered the notion. Brogan sneered, no doubt loving the idea of a slow torture when the bastard had more time. The other two men looked at each other, questioning the rationale of switching a weak girl for a man who could defend himself. But it wouldn't be their call.

'You have always impressed me with your eloquence and logical thinking,' Cavanaugh stepped closer, near the edge of the light. 'But I've got one problem with your proposition.'

Diego shifted his gaze to Cavanaugh. 'What's that?'

'Quite frankly, I'd prefer to know you're dead. And as for your old man, screw him. Your riddled body will serve as notice. Our merger is ... terminated.' He turned and headed for the open hatch door. 'Mr. Brogan? Fire when ready ... and put that sniveling girl out of her misery. Mr. McPhee? You're with me. Three guns are a bit ... overkill, don't you think?' Cavanaugh stepped through the doorway, with McPhee on his heels, and bellowed over his shoulder, 'Mr. Brogan? You and Ellis join me on the other side of this tunnel. Don't dawdle. You know how I hate to wait.'

Cavanaugh disappeared into the dark and never looked back. The coward! Now Diego settled his eyes on Brogan . . . the last face he would ever see.

Diego lowered his arms and crossed them over his chest, the knife in his grip.

'Hey, no one said you could move,' Brogan protested.

'What are you going to do? Shoot me?' Diego took a deep breath. 'You wouldn't deny a man his dignity, would you?'

'The way I'm gonna leave your bodies? Dignity will be the last thing you'll have.'

With Brogan's snide comment, the other man grimaced and shrugged. 'Come on, Matt. We don't have time for this. You know the old man ain't gonna wait for us. We gotta go.'

Brogan clenched his teeth and shot a nasty glare at his man. 'Ellis is right. Rude and an asshole, but he's got a point. We got a ride to catch. Believe me, I wish we had more time.'

Brogan sneered and raised his gun. Diego tensed his body. No time left. He stepped in front of Danielle and gripped the knife, ready to move when . . .

'FREEZE! Lower your weapons.'

Rebecca stood at the top of the ramp, gun in hand, locked and loaded with a double-fisted grip. And she had never looked more beautiful!

Brogan refused to budge and never lost sight of his target. He held his ground. His gun aimed at Diego, center mass. 'I ain't movin', lady. Looks like we got a Mexican standoff here. But since I'm such a softhearted guy, I'm gonna give you a choice. Cavanaugh wants the Mex dead, so I got my orders. But as far as your sister goes, I'm leavin' that up to you. What's it gonna be?' He chuckled, his focus on Diego. 'I kill the Mex, and we part company. Your sister goes home with you. You play this any other way, and your precious sister is the first to go.' To his man, he ordered, 'You hear that, Ellis? The Mex can't protect the girl from both of us. She's your new target.'

His man shifted his aim to Danielle. Things had gone from bad to worse. Becca hesitated, her eyes on Diego. He stood with such confidence, arms crossed and defiant. And Danielle sat rigid against the wall, strangely quiet and cowering in Diego's shadow. Becca gritted her teeth. No way Brogan would get his way.

But when she looked back at Diego, he returned her stare and shrugged. 'Sounds like a deal you shouldn't refuse, Rebecca.'

It all happened so fast, Becca didn't see it coming. Diego flung an arm. Something left his hand. A loud heavy thump! Brogan was still smiling when the blade hit. He cried out and sputtered, staggering back with a knife jutting from his chest, to the hilt. He gaped down at it in disbelief like he'd sprung a new appendage.

Danielle cried out, the pitiable sound of her muffled scream gripped Becca, wrenching her gut with fear for her sister. Shocked by what happened, the other man gaped at Brogan and hesitated long enough for her to react.

'Gun down . . . Now! Or you're dead,' she cried out.

The man named Ellis didn't lower his gun. She knew the twitchy aggressive look. He wouldn't be arrested. The bastard was only waiting for his chance. Becca rushed down the ramp to throw Ellis off and take him out of the equation. But Brogan reeled, still on his feet. A macabre and bloodied puppet.

Becca kept her options open. She stood within a yard of Ellis, his back to her. The man watched her from the corner of his eye, waiting for her to make a mistake. She gripped her weapon, her palms slick with sweat. Her eyes shifted to watch Brogan and Diego. But Ellis turned his head, a subtle flinch to keep her honest. She countered as he did, a deadly game of chicken.