Four.
Blue. Red. Red. Yellow. Purple.
Saturday. Monday. Monday. Tuesday. Friday.
She punched in the code.
Four. Six. One. One. Two. Five.
A green light blinked on.
She smiled.
Thanks, Dad.
The smile faded from her lips as she swung open the door to find two guns raised to greet her, a Glock and a shotgun.
She raised her hands. “It’s me.”
Bracco and Cough lowered their guns. Cough couldn’t have looked more relieved if he’d just discovered a letter he thought was from the IRS was really just a workplace OSHA poster.
“I’m going to destroy this place on TripAdvisor,” said Shee, running a hand through her hair.
A radio clipped to Bracco’s side crackled to life.
“Shee is at the front door, let her in,” said Croix’s voice.
“Thanks, Croix, great timing,” said Shee, locking the door behind her. “Where are they?”
“Angelina took Croix and the dogs to your father’s room,” said Cough.
Bracco pointed to the shuttered front window. Shee read the concern on his face.
“Mason stayed to take care of a guy in the woods. There are soldiers on their way—”
“Men at the kitchen door!” crackled Croix’s voice.
Gunshots exploded in the distance.
Bracco turned toward the hall, his bulk blocking Shee as she also tried to head that way. She bounced off his shoulder, spun, and came to a stop pointed at Cough.
The doctor swallowed and tried to aim his weapon down the hall. His hands were shaking. Shee took a step forward to push the muzzle of the shotgun toward the floor for fear he’d aerate the retreating doorman.
“Are the stairs locked?” she asked.
Cough nodded. “Angelina gave me the key.”
More gunfire. Different pitches, different weapons—it sounded as if a fire fight had erupted. She could see Bracco still at the end of the hall, peeking into the kitchen.
The sweat on Cough’s brow gave her pause. She guessed Angelina or Croix had chosen the shotgun for him because such a weapon made it difficult to miss, but the last thing she needed floating around the hotel was a jumpy man with a scattergun.
She motioned to the stairs. “Go. Lock the door behind you and guard the stairs. Don’t let anyone up.”
Cough thrust his hand into his pocket to retrieve the keys. He dropped them, stooped to pick them up, fumbled them a second time and then tripped toward the stairs.
Shee ran down the hall after Bracco as the big man pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door and fired.
&&&
Chapter Fifty-Five
Scotty left a soldier to guard the back porch before opening the kitchen door with the key he’d had made during his time at the hotel. He’d thought of everything.
Stepping back, he motioned his men ahead.
“Elevator and stairs are in the front lobby. Remember, do not kill the woman.”
With a nod, his lead merc raised his gun and led the other three men inside as he held the door.
Scotty couldn’t erase the grin from his face.
This is going to be a cakewalk.
He felt powerful. He’d walk through the hotel like a god, a true Alpha Leader, his team of assassins fanned in front of him clearing the way.
Mick’s gang of misfits had no idea what was about to hit them.
With two soldiers in front of him, Scotty stopped the third to take his place in line as they crept into the kitchen.
The gunfire started almost immediately.
Scotty turned to retreat, only to find the last soldier blocking his way. The merc put a hand on his shoulder and pushed Scotty down as he, too, lowered to a squat.
The two front men sat on their heels. A man wearing what looked like striped pajamas popped up from behind the large granite island in the center of the room. Bullets sprayed in their direction.
Scotty raised his hands over his ears as the soldier behind him stood and fired. His head rang. The image of the shooter bouncing up like a whack-a-mole flashed again in his brain.
The cook?
He hadn’t talked to the cook much during his time at the hotel. The man seemed too fat to be a soldier. He certainly hadn’t considered the possibility of tubby guarding the kitchen. Was he afraid they’d steal a steak on the way in?
The cook would slow them down and alert the rest of the hotel to their arrival. Scotty glanced at the black Luminox Navy SEAL Chronograph watch he’d bought especially for the mission. They needed to get moving. How many gunshots could ring out before the neighbors realized they weren’t fireworks? Even in Florida?
Scotty grit his teeth. “Kill him!” he barked. “What’s taking so long?”
The front man rolled to the left and fired behind the island. Scotty heard a grunt.
No gunshots answered in turn.
Scotty nodded.
There. They just needed some direction.
He stood and clapped his hands together. “Okay, men, into the lobby.”
He’d taken one step down the path between the island and the walk-in freezer before the door swung open and a head popped in.
Bracco.
Scotty froze, realizing his mistake. He’d taken point. He raised his gun and released a wild shot. Bracco withdrew.
Scotty collapsed to his knees as Bracco’s arm and weapon reappeared to fire twice. The bullets flew over Scotty’s head. Air escaped the man behind him as one struck his chest.
Even hit, the merc returned fire over Scotty’s head and his ears rang anew. He clamped his hands on the sides of his head and swore.
Bracco ducked back into the hall. No doubt he’d be back.
Scotty’s mind raced.
What am I doing?
Surely, Bracco had seen him on his knees. The next shot would be low.
I’m a sitting duck.
He stood and scrambled to push past the merc behind him.
“Go, go, get him!” he commanded, snarling.
