As Brandt took a step toward the lift, Sam lunged, with the large German turning at the final second and raising the gun. Sam threw a fist, catching Brandt on the wrist and dislodging the gun from his grasp. Brandt shot his other arm out, wrapping his vice like grip on the scruff of Sam’s jacket and hurling him towards the wall. Sam hit it hard, and then raised his arms to block the barrage of blows that Brandt swung, each of them propelled with the proficiency of a boxing champion.
Sam was equal to it, absorbing the impact on the muscles of his arm.
A sickening thud echoed in the corridor and Brandt stumbled forward. Sam, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, charged forward, slamming his shoulder into Brandt’s solid midsection and ran with him, using his momentum to send them both careening into the service elevator. Singh followed, the handgun still in her hand, the handle dripping with blood from where she’d pistol whipped her assailant.
Brandt hit the metal wall hard, the entire carriage shaking and Sam whipped up, ducked a right and cracked Brandt with a sickening elbow to the side of the head, drove a knee into the man’s midriff, and then spun him swiftly by the right arm, guiding him face first into the metal bar that ran the perimeter of the lift for support.
The impact shattered Brandt’s nose, which exploded down in a sickening wave of blood and cartilage.
With one final swipe of his arm, he drove his elbow into the back of Brandt’s skull, shutting his lights out.
For now.
The doors to the lift finally shut, and as they ascended, Sam reached across an impressed looking Singh and pressed the emergency stop button.
The lift shunted to an unconvincing stop.
Sam turned back to Singh.
‘Look, I am so sorry we…’
Singh slapped Sam across the face as hard as she could.
‘You prick.’
‘I deserve that,’ Sam agreed, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.
‘I thought you were dead, Sam,’ Singh ranted. ‘After what happened in Tilbury, I figured it was you who killed the rest of that disgusting family. It had your handiwork all over it. But then you just disappeared. Nothing. No sign of you anywhere and for the last few months, your old boss has been making my life a living hell.’
‘I know.’
Singh stared at Sam, who offered her an apologetic smile. As she handed him a tissue from the pack in her jacket pocket, he began to tell her what he’d been through over the last few months, dabbing the blood from his face as he spoke. He told her about being forced into a mission with a threat to his ex-wife, and his need to get to his mentor before Blackridge.
Singh listened in disbelief, her eyes widening as Sam told her how he fought Buck to the death in a small, abandoned, underground facility in the outskirts of Italy, while his mentor lay dead beside them. He lifted his T-shirt, showing her the healed bullet wound that scarred his stomach, missing his spine by inches.
‘Jesus,’ Singh exclaimed. ‘That was lucky.’
‘It was exact.’ Sam felt a chill run down his spine. ‘Shoot to maim.’
‘Huh?’
‘The person who shot me, he didn’t want to kill me with this shot. This was to put me on my knees.’ Sam shook away the awful memory.
‘Who was it?’
‘My mind is playing tricks on me, telling me it’s a ghost from my past that I long since buried.’ Sam offered her a shrug. ‘But it’s just another bridge to cross.’
‘And all this? Wallace? Project Hailstorm?’
‘It’s all on the USB stick with Etheridge. But to get it, we needed Blackridge agents, to try to steal their access.’
‘So, you used me as live fucking bait?’ Singh fumed.
‘I need a fingerprint,’ Sam said, his voice straining as he squatted down beside Brandt and lifted his limp, lifeless hand.
‘You’re going to cut his finger off?!’
‘God no.’ Sam shook his head and pulled out the envelope. ‘I’m just taking a copy of his prints. I’m not a savage.’
Singh smirked at the joke, but quickly hid it with a scowl. Sam didn’t notice as he quickly went through the same process with Brandt as he had with the rest of the team, collecting the prints on the plastic sheets before storing them safely away in his pocket. Once he’d secured them away, he reached over to press the button once again, to complete their journey, but Singh stepped in his way.
‘Do you have any idea what I have been through in the last few months?’
‘Was it worse than recovering from a bullet wound?’
‘Fuck you,’ Singh snapped. ‘My life was perfect before you came into it. I had the job of my dreams and everything was perfect. Bringing you in should have been the best moment of my career.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’ Sam took a step closer to her, his brow furrowing with frustration. ‘You knew I was at the top of that tower. Why didn’t you send a team up to arrest me?’
‘Because you saved my life.’ Singh could feel her eyes watering and cursed herself for it. ‘I should have died in that Port, but you saved me. You killed a lot of people that night, and a lot more since, but ever since you saved me I’ve struggled to find any compassion for those you have put in the ground.’
‘I’m sorry for everything, Amara. I truly am. But I need to end this. There is a woman who saved my life, who will never be safe until Wallace and Blackridge are torn to the ground.’
Singh wiped her eye with her sleeve, shaking her head in
