Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(90)

“Don’t move or she dies now.” Farzam shoved the gun into Jenna’s side and opened his jacket.

Everyone stilled.

The guy had strapped what looked like blocks of C4 to his chest. He held a small detonator. His fingers shook as they gripped the device.

Zach faced the man he had met only once at a civilized university tea. He bore no resemblance to the man Zach had known. Farzam’s eyes were wild, determined—and totally insane.

Seth eased to the side slightly; Luke and Gabe shifted, too, but none of them had a good angle. Seth gave a slight shake of his head. If they tried it, Jenna was dead.

“Khalid killed my son, Zane Morgan,” Farzam said. “I have nothing to lose.”

“What about your wife?”

“I am no longer a man to her. You ruined me. You and Pendar and your stupid, grandiose dreams. You don’t care who suffers for your selfishness.”

Zach shut his eyes against the truth in Farzam’s words. “I didn’t want Pendar to pay. He wanted freedom for his wife and daughters. He came to me.”

“And all he found was death.” Farzam’s expression grew cold. “An eye for an eye.”

He shifted, his finger tightening over the detonator.

A branch crunched outside the open front door. Farzam looked up.

Zach took advantage of the distraction. He tackled Farzam, stripping the detonator from his hand. Seth grabbed the semi-automatic from Farzam’s other hand.

Jenna scrambled away, shoving free of the loosened ropes, only to collapse near the back door.

“No!” Farzam slipped a knife from its sheath and slashed at Zach’s face. They staggered to their feet. “You die!”

“Not today.” Zach spun around and shoved the heel of his hand up and back into Farzam’s nose. Bones shattered and drove into the man’s brain. Farzam crumbled to the ground. Dead.

“Not today?” Theresa’s voice came in through the doorway. “I wouldn’t bet on that, Zach.”

He turned. Damn it. He hated being proved right.

Theresa.

The woman he’d trusted with his life for five years stood in the doorway, a very familiar, very deadly weapon in her hand, her eyes lifeless, cold, and vicious. “You know I always have a backup plan.” Smiling, she pressed the timer down. “Sorry about the collateral damage. You should have just died on the road outside Istanbul, Zach. It would have been so much cleaner.”

She tossed the device into a pile of trash in the corner.

“Bomb!” Zach yelled at his brothers. “Get out! Now!”

He scooped Jenna into his arms. His legs pumped across the floor.

A whirring noise whined, then went silent.

God, no. They wouldn’t make it.





* * *





Chapter Eighteen




* * *





“WHAT THE HELL are you doing?” Brad tackled Theresa to the ground. “My son is in there!”

The house burst into a fireball, and flaming debris catapulted around them. An inferno erupted into the sky, secondary explosions discharging like deadly munitions.

“Too late, you fool.” She smashed her elbow into his windpipe, then rolled to her feet.

Brad fell to his knees. He clutched his throat and lay choking in the dirt, barely able to hear over the roaring fire. Waves of heat pelted his face, but he couldn’t move. Sam was gone. He’d failed again.

She aimed an Afghani-made weapon at his head. “I don’t do loose ends.”

Fury consumed Brad as he stared up at the woman who had pulled his strings for the last eighteen months. That day, she’d left a not-so-subtle message on his doorstep—a blood-covered baseball glove. The meaning had been clear. She could get to his son. He’d wanted to end their association. Too many jobs for one client wasn’t smart business. But somehow she’d uncovered his identity.

He’d agreed to continue their association but he hadn’t liked it. Unfortunately, she was smart, and soulless. Raging fire highlighted her eyes—the pupils glowing red, like pure evil. Even he had rules. He didn’t murder children, for one. Theresa had no boundaries. Never had.

“You’ve made a mistake, bitch.”

“I know. You’re alive. You’d have made my life a lot simpler if you’d been in the house, too, but the gun ought to take care of it. Farzam’s body will be unidentifiable, but I’ll get the same credit for bringing down the Chameleon.”

She stepped closer. “I’d hoped I could salvage you as an asset. I even confiscated your wife’s evidence. She hid it under her father’s name, ironically enough.” Theresa held up a small folder. “Too bad you’re useless.”

Jenna’s folder. There it was. What Brad needed to start a new life. Like he cared anymore. He wanted one thing now—Theresa Banyon dead.

“This made interesting reading. Does Montgomery know you killed his father?”

All Brad wanted to do was to get his hands around her neck and squeeze, but he had to play it smart to kill her. “We can work this out, Theresa.”

“Not happening, Walters. Maybe I’ll tap your contacts myself. You won’t be needing them.”

A loud shuffling erupted from the nearby trees.