Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(13)

Someone sold me out. I don’t know who and I don’t know how, but if I get out of here . . . No, not if. When.

From behind me, a door creaks, and shoes squeak on the floor of the meat locker as someone approaches. I relax as much as possible, wanting to preserve any advantage I might have by appearing to be unconscious.

“Boss? Boss.”

The whispered word, in English, in a voice I recognize, has me jerking my head around. Koba. My suspicions about him roar to the forefront of my brain.

Is he with them? Coming to kill me? But if he were, why would he be whispering?

Only one way to find out.

“Get me down. Hurry,” I say, snapping out the order.

The squeaking footsteps come closer, and I pray to anyone who will listen that he’s not here to stab me in the back, and is only making himself known so that I’ll be aware of who killed me.

I brought him to Prague to keep an eye on him. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

That decision could be my downfall.

Instead of a knife between my shoulder blades, he slices through the zip ties binding my feet. I stretch them out and try to touch the floor, but I can’t reach.

“I followed them. I was in the stairwell when they carried you out. I hid behind a fire door on the floor below and had to wait for them to leave. There’s only one here right now.”

The story sounds like it could be true, but I’m not exactly in the most trusting mood at present.

“My arms. Hurry up.”

Cold steel touches my skin as Koba cuts the plastic bindings, and as soon as they break, I fall into him as my knees give way when my feet hit the floor. Koba grips my shoulders, and thousands of invisible pins and needles jab into me as blood rushes back into my limbs. Clenching my teeth, I try to steady my legs.

“Fuck. You okay, boss?” Koba whips the bag off my head.

Thank fuck. I blink in the dim light of the room, and the black spots finally disappear from my vision.

“Fine. Time to get the fuck out of here.”

Koba’s head bobs. “I got a car outside, in the alley across the street. We just have to make it there.”

“Gun?” I ask, partly because I need a way to fight back, and partly to see if he’s willing to give me one. If he’s working against me, he wouldn’t free me and then arm me.

When he pulls a pistol from his waistband and offers it to me, I make a snap decision. I was wrong. Koba isn’t here to kill me. His next words seal it.

“I only have one. Would’ve shot them when they were taking you, but I didn’t want to risk—”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

“This way.” Koba leads me out of the cooler, palming a knife at his side. He presses against the door, opening it slowly.

I probably should offer to give the gun back because he’s in the lead, but there’s no way in hell I want to be unarmed. Not now.

“Clear,” he whispers, and together we move out of the cooler down a dingy concrete hallway.

I have no fucking clue where we are, but my mind is fixed on what needs to happen right now. Get the fuck out of here. Get back to Indy. Make sure she’s safe. Get us the fuck out of this country.

Those are my priorities, in order.

Together, we creep down the hall, and my arms and shoulders protest with every sweep of the gun. Up ahead is a set of double doors. When we reach them, Koba pauses.

“Through here, there’s another hallway, and on the right, there’s a room where they were holed up. The door to the outside isn’t far beyond it.”

“Got it. Let’s move.”

The double doors open on shrieking hinges, and if there’s a single person in the vicinity, there’s no way they could miss it. The scrape of a chair against concrete is the next sound I hear, and Koba and I lock eyes.

“Run,” we both say, and we bolt like sprinters off the line.

We pass the doorway he described just as a man appears in it, gun drawn.

I raise the pistol and fire, and he staggers backward as the bullets pierce his chest. Someone else yells, but I focus on the door only a dozen feet away. Freedom. As soon as I reach it, I kick it open.

Gunshots erupt, and Koba jumps in front of me to throw the knife he carries. It catches the second shooter in the throat, but not before another deafening barrage of bullets explode from the barrel.

“Get down!” I yell as I fire back, but it’s too late.

Koba hits the floor, the life already leaving his eyes as the door swings shut, trapping us both inside.

Fuck. Fuck. I drop to a knee beside him, but Koba shakes his head when I lift him.

“No. Just go. Go.” The words come out as a gurgle. Death rattle.

I adjust my grip, but blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as his stare goes blank.

Fuuuck.

“Goddammit.” I squeeze his hand and make a decision that guts me. I have to leave him. “I’ll get you home to your family. Somehow.”

Rising to my feet, I shoulder the door open and run outside, praying there aren’t any more of them waiting outside. My prayers go unanswered as a gunshot cracks through the darkness. I fire back at the muzzle flash, and the gunfire stops.

Wherever we are, it’s the dead of night, and the moon offers only the dimmest light. I rush across the street, which is empty, and duck behind the corner of a brick building.