The six-foot wooden fence surrounding Volkov’s back yard was too flimsy to jump and too solid to break through. Broch stood on his toes and peered over it. The yard was empty. He could see a large screened-in porch, the glow from the adjacent rooms inside the house illuminating a smattering of patio furniture.
Moving along the side of the rancher, he reached the front porch and crouched down, peering between the thick cement railing that edged it. The guard no longer sat in his chair. He’d moved to the top of the stairs. Broch could hear Dez talking to him, laughing the way women did when flirting.
Broch grabbed the top of the porch railing and lifted himself until he could swing a leg over the edge. Lowering himself onto the porch, he crept towards the man flirting with Dez. As he neared his prey, Broch saw Dez’s eyes flick in his direction. She tried to play it off, but the damage had been done.
The man turned.
Sae much fae the element of surprise.
Broch snapped his palm into the air, breaking the man’s nose and then covering his mouth as he tried to yell. Broch pulled his head into the crook of his arm, choking him as he dragged him deeper onto the porch. He held him there, his back against the house, bobbing his head left and right to avoid the man’s flailing hands, until his foe went limp.
Dez looked up and down the street and then moved onto the porch.
“Did you kill him?” she whispered.
Broch huffed. “Nae. Ah wid hae, bit Catriona said ah shouldn’t murdurr fowk if ah kin hulp it.”
Dez scowled. “She had to tell you that?” She glanced at the man. “And she probably didn’t mean the guys holding her hostage.”
Crouching beneath the large front window, Dez peered inside.
“I see one dude on a sofa. The one we’ve been watching. I think he’s asleep. No sign of Volkov.”
Broch tried the door and found it open.
Pulling a gun from her waistband, Dez moved to him. “On three. One—”
Broch opened the creaky door and the man on the sofa turned his head towards him.
“Who are you?”
As the man scrambled to his feet, wobbly from sleeping, Broch stepped forward and punched him hard in the face. The guard fell, tucked between the sofa and the table where he’d been resting his feet.
“Shhh,” hissed Dez. She had her gun raised as she poked her head in the other rooms.
“Kitchen’s clear,” she whispered to him as she moved to the next doorway.
Broch leaned over and grabbed the guard by his shirt, lifting him to peer into his face. The man’s head lolled as if it were attached by a noodle, potato chip crumbs stuck to his cheek.
He’s nae goan anywhur.
Broch dropped him with a thud to the ground.
Dez slipped down a short hall to the right and reappeared a moment later.
“Clear.”
She glanced at a table beside Broch and pointed to it. “Look.”
He glanced at a pile of plastic strips sitting next to the ugliest lamp he’d ever seen. He looked back at Dez. “Whit?”
She rolled her eyes. “They’re zip-ties. Tie up those two in case they wake up.”
Broch’s attention moved from the zip-ties to the door in the center of the archway.
It had a padlock on it.
Dez went to the left and appeared again, almost bumping into him as he approached the door.
“That room’s clear. Did you tie them?”
“Na.”
She huffed and followed his gaze to the padlock on the door. “Yeah, I think that’s our winner. You don’t mind if I make sure the house is clear first, do you?”
Broch ignored her and put his ear to the door.
“Catriona?” he called.
A panic voice rose from within. “It’s Mo.”
Dez stepped back and pointed her gun at the door. She nodded to Broch. “I’m ready.”
“Staun back fae the door,” Broch called to Mo.
He gave Mo a moment to move before kicking. The hinge holding the lock ripped from the wood and the door flew open, bouncing off the wall behind.
Mo stood in the back corner of the small windowless room. The space was empty but for two paper plates, two plastic bottles and Mo herself.
Mo threw her arms around him.
“Thank god you’re here. These people are animals. We thought you were dead.”
“Catriona?” he asked.
She looked up at him, grimacing. “They took her. She wasn’t out there?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and that big man was walking out the door with her.”
“Volkov?”
She nodded. “That’s his name. The one from the warehouse.”
Broch scowled at Dez. “He wis here all along.”
She frowned. “Sorry.”
Broch spotted a smear of blood on the wall and felt his pulse quicken. He looked at Mo and she shook her head.
“Not hers. She beat up one of the guys. She wasn’t hurt the last time I saw her but the man who took her...” Mo fell silent. “It was only about an hour ago.”
Broch walked back into the living room. “We didnae see them leave,” he mumbled, looking around the house for doors they might have missed.
Mo followed him into the living room and spotted Dez. “Dez, Alain sent you?”
Dez grunted. “Something like that.”
Broch strode into the kitchen and eyed the rows of lower cabinets, dreading the idea of opening them in search of Catriona.
