"Bullet proof glass." Chan tapped on a pane. "Your Nikky is safe. Sorry." He held up both hands. "Not your Nikky. I forgot you won't love someone whose job involves death."
"Someone intent on dying." Many jobs involved death. "There's a difference."
"Is there? No one is intent on dying. No one puts themselves at risk recklessly. We do what we have to do." A shrug.
For the safety of the family. Nikky looked grim. He wasn't enjoying this any more than she was. Tatyana drifted closer to him. He was doing what he had to do and she wasn't making it any easier on him.
"I worry," she admitted, slipping her hand in his. "Because I love you." She needed him to know that.
"I know." Nikky kissed her, a gentle, soft brush against her lips. "Courage, Brat. We can do this."
Nikky didn't release her hand as he discussed entry options with Chan. His palm was rough and warm and comforting. He wouldn't die, Tatyana told herself. He had everything under control.
As soon as she started to relax, a man rushed into the room, hurrying over to Chan. She couldn't understand what was said but the words were frantic, fast. "We have a man down," Chan explained in English. "East perimeter."
A man down. Death. It had found her again. Her first impulse was to run as far away as she could from here, taking Nikky with her.
Nikky put an arm around her waist, preventing her. "Fuck, he's fast." He pulled out his gun.
Tatyana did the same. She'd protect him. She wouldn't lose him. She couldn't. "Pavel?"
There was rumbling from the bodyguard into his phone. "No response from the same sector, Boss."
Ivan positioned against the exterior wall, Boris at the doorway. "Nikky?" Fear trickled down her spine. They should run. This standing to fight was a bad idea. Running, running worked. She shifted, looking beyond Boris to the hallway.
Nik tightened his grip on his skittish girl. Her body trembled next to his. "Courage, Brat," he repeated. "I'll protect you." He'd try. Gunfire in the distance. Too soon, it was too soon. They weren't prepared yet.
The bastard counted on their unpreparedness. He attacked before they solidified their defenses. Smart. Nik would have done the same.
Pavel looked at his phone. "Inner circle breached, Boss."
He could hear that, the gunfire getting closer. Nik stood in front of Tatyana.
A blast boomed at the front door. "One more of those and it won't hold." As Chan spoke, shots rang from inside the house.
Inside? "What the hell?" Before Nik could figure out who was shooting, another blast detonated.
"And they're in." That gloomy tidbit was shared by Chan.
"Boss." It was Boris' only warning before he was flung back into the room. Tatyana screamed his name. They fired into the hallway. Something was thrown in the room, metal against the hardwood. Then smoke. Nik sniffed. No, not smoke.
"Shit. Tear gas." Why hadn't he prepared for that? "Close your eyes, Brat." He pressed her against the wall, covering her with his body. His eyes burned. He coughed, breathing difficult. All the time, he continued to shoot clip after clip, his men doing the same, the noise deafening.
A dark form swung through the air. Nik twisted. A knife sliced his vest. Tatyana gasped as she was yanked from behind him. "Nikky! Nikky!" Fuck. The bastard had Tatyana. Nik heard her struggling, fighting like a wild woman. He couldn't see, damn it, his vision was too fuzzy. He raised his gun high, higher than Tatyana's petite form, forcing himself to wait, and wait, and wait. Finally, he heard it. A shot, then a gasp. He aimed and pulled the trigger.
Another scream. A heavy thud.
"Tatyana!" He moved toward her, reaching out. Was she hit? Had he missed?
Shots to his right, where Chan had stood.
"Nikky!" His neck was gripped so tightly, he winced. "Nikky! He...there..." She sounded half hysterical. A figure lay crumpled on the floor. Nik shot once, twice, three times to ensure the body wouldn't move. "Shot...I... Shot," she breathed, her voice thick, as though she found it hard to take in air.
Shot. His heart stopped. "You're shot?" He patted her body blindly. Moisture. Sticky.
"No." Her frizzy hair brushed against his cheek as she shook her head. "Are you?"
He sagged with relief. She was safe. "No. Pavel?"
"Yes, Boss." A raspy reply.
"Ventilation." Chan's voice in the smoke was weak. A fan whirled overhead. Fresh air. Nik breathed in. It took a few minutes for the room to clear. A few minutes more for Nik's eyes to recover enough to see shapes.
"Boris?"
A groan. "Boss. My ribs."
He was hurt but alive. "Ivan?"
Silence. "No, Boss," Pavel confirmed.
A whimper from Tatyana. Fuck. Ivan was a good man, leaving behind a wife. Damn it.
"Chan?" A group of dark figures stood to the right.
"One of my own, Kaerta. During the fight."
Nik blinked rapidly, trying to focus on Chan.
"Your shoulder." Tatyana pointed. There was something metallic stuck in Chan's shoulder.
A throwing star? Blood pooled around him.
No one was doing anything. What kind of shit organization was he running? "Where's your medical team, Chan?" He'd have one.
"One of my own, Kaerta," the man repeated from his place on the floor. "How do I know he doesn't have a man on my medical team? How can I trust anyone?"
A buzz of Chinese around him. Reassurances of loyalty.
"You're a paranoid bastard, Chan. Let them treat you." Before he died and created a whole new mess.
"Look at that man." Chan pointed. "What do you see?"
Tatyana squeaked. Nik looked, and immediately pressed her face into his chest. A shot to the head was never pretty. "Fuck, Chan. My fiancee didn't need to see that."
"One of mine. He waited until this happened andȄ" A watery cough. "I can't trust my team."
There were denials in Chinese, tone universal.
"Nikky." Tatyana whispered. "We couldȄ"
"No," Nik refused. "If he dies..." It'd be war. Could be two wars. At the same time. They hadn't
