After the blow of the bullet, the soldier was still winded, making it easy for Scotty to grab his vest by the armpits and spin him to the front of the line. The second soldier stared at Scotty, his hulking form blocking his escape.
“Get out of the—”
The second soldier raised his gun. For a split second Scotty thought he had a mutiny on his hands, but the guy fired past him.
Scotty threw himself flat against a wall of shelving. With his left hand he pushed the lead soldier toward Bracco, and with the other, he jerked the walk-in freezer handle. Something wet sprayed the side of his face as he stumbled inside the metal box and shut the door.
Gunshots erupted again.
Scotty waited, panting. He touched his face. Even through his tactical gloves, he could tell something slippery had splattered his cheek. Thankfully, the freezer was pitch black.
Footsteps shuffled outside. Scotty opened his eyes wide, trying to see.
Did Bracco see me slip in the freezer? Is there a back door out of here?
He reached out, feeling for an alternative escape hatch. His fingertips brushed shelves lined with what felt like frozen meat.
Gunfire again.
Scotty cocked his head.
Farther away. Out back?
Someone nearby made a strange, loud grunting noise.
“Okay, I got him—” said a female voice.
Scotty reasoned the grunting had to have been Bracco trying to communicate.
Big, brain-dead mother—
Footsteps again. More gunfire farther away to his left. It sounded as if the fight had moved to the yard.
“Where are you hit?” said the woman in the kitchen.
Scotty gasped.
Shee.
It had to be.
His men had fallen back. She was tending to the fallen cook.
This is my chance.
Scotty felt for the freezer’s safety release and pulled it slowly, easing open the door. It wouldn’t open farther than the width of his head.
What the hell?
He saw a black boot on the floor. Bracco had shot his lead man. The soldier had collapsed in front of the freezer, his body wedged between the door and the island.
“Put pressure there. Good.”
The woman was on the other side of the island.
Scotty took a deep breath.
Go out. Grab her. Take her out the front while the others are busy in the back.
Scotty pushed his head through, straining his shoulder against the door. His eyes adjusted to the dim light cast by the clock on the mounted microwave.
A face stared back at him.
Shee.
She stood behind the island, gun pointed at him.
Scotty didn’t move.
Shee was something to behold.
He’d sneaked looks at her from afar since she arrived at the hotel, of course, but even in the dim light, she was so much more up close.
It was as if decades of prison dreams had materialized in front of him. His revenge. His fantasy. Almost within arm’s reach.
“You look the same,” he said tucking back into the freezer a notch.
“You look like shit,” she said. “But you never were a good-looking guy.”
Something in Scotty’s brain snapped.
He’d planned things better. He’d wanted to be cool, to slip his gun out, maybe wing her if he had to. Say something cool.
But that mouth.
That smart bitch mouth.
He couldn’t help it. Fury boiled his blood and he lifted his gun.
She fired.
Scotty jerked back into the freezer like a turtle sucking into its shell. Bullets struck the door. One went through and hit the wall across from him. He grimaced, curled tight in the corner like a standing fetus.
Then he heard it.
Click. Click. Click.
She was out of bullets.
Scotty’s body exploded with elation.
You’re mine now.
He pushed open the freezer door and thrust out his gun. He squeezed the trigger. Once. Twice.
No returning fire. No scream of pain.
He poked out his head.
Nothing.
Where did she go? Roaring with effort, he wrestled the door open far enough to push his bulky vested torso through.
Leading with his gun, he crept around the island.
Nothing.
Even the cook was gone.
Intermittent gunplay continued out back. He glanced out the back window into the darkness.
She wouldn’t have run into that mess.
She would have gone to the lobby.
He turned that way. The swinging door still rocked.
Got you.
He leapt forward as something exploded beyond the door. He threw himself against the wall.
What the hell was that?
Had one of his men shot Shee as she ran away?
A woman’s voice exclaimed something he couldn’t make out.
Was Shee hit? Begging for her life?
Without me?
Scotty braced himself to push through the swinging door.
No, no, no, no...
&&&
Chapter Fifty-Six
Mason held the Ukrainian under water for a few more seconds and then thrust himself to the surface with his good leg.
Sucking air, he swam for shore. The toes of his right foot struck sand. He’d lost his loafer somewhere.
He frowned. He’d liked those loafers. They’d been a big step toward trying to feel like a civilian.
He coughed, brackish water purging from his lungs. Somewhere on the opposite bank behind him, a gunshot echoed.
He spun.
Where..?
Stifling a second cough, Mason shuffled up the bank to find a position just inside the tree line. He scanned the opposite shore.
Another shot. The blast came from farther down river, somewhere across from the hotel.
Sniper?
These guys thought of everything.
Mason retrieved his own gun and threw the kid’s rifle over his shoulder.
He moved as fast as he could toward The Loggerhead, hoping the darkness would be enough to hide him from the sniper. He was half way across the grass separating the hotel from the forest when he heard another shot. Something flew past him.
Not dark enough.
He threw himself against the side of the Inn.
“Y’missed me
