Luka’s fingers hike up my robe, and my eyes flash open.
What the hell is he doing? He’s gone too far.
I knee him in the groin and slam my fist into his face.
He doubles over in agony.
Good!
“Sorry,” Luka mutters. He’s quick to apologize, but it’s too late.
I stalk past him, heading in the direction where the guard had just come from. How come he didn’t seem surprised to see us? Is this how the patrons had arrived to watch the fight?
He chases after me. “I’m sorry. I was trying to look convincing,” he says.
I ignore his pleas as I push open the door at the end of the hallway. Freedom at last!
The door leads outside. The air is icy and cold. My breath hovers with each exhale that spills past my lips. There are dozens of unattended vehicles parked in an abandoned lot.
I don’t quite recognize where we are other than still inside the city.
“We need to find a phone.” It’s too bad there aren’t any payphones anymore. My cell phone is long gone. I tug the robe tighter. My feet are freezing on the cold asphalt.
Luka pulls out his cell phone and hands me the device. “Do you mean this?”
I want to kill him. “You’ve had that all along?”
“It didn’t work inside the cartel’s compound,” Luka says. He unlocks his device. “We have a signal now, though.”
“Give me that!” I snatch the phone from his grasp and dial Agent Kingston’s cell phone.
“Agent Kingston,” Barrett answers his phone.
I breathe a sigh of relief that he answers the call. It would have come up as an unfamiliar number. “Agent Kingston, it’s Madisyn Taylor,” I say, giving my undercover last name. If Luka and Mikhail’s men haven’t figured out my surname, Carter, I don’t intend to give it to them.
“Where are you? We’re at the Barinov residence and have torn apart this place searching for you.”
“The cartel picked me up this afternoon. One of Carlos’ men must have intercepted my rideshare request. I managed to escape with one of Mikhail’s men, but you should know, sir, Aaron Moore is working with the cartel.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s working with Carlos, and he’s in an illegal fight with Mikhail right now. They’re fighting for me as their prize. Luka and I managed to sneak out, but someone is bound to notice that we left. It won’t be long until they’re searching for both of us.”
“I’ll come to pick you up. Where are you?” he asks again.
I’m not sure of the exact location. “I’ll drop a pin,” I say, giving him the GPS information for him to send a team to help before I end the call.
I hand Luka his phone. “You should get out of here.”
* * *
Agent Kingston arrives along with a SWAT unit. I’m whisked into the front seat of his vehicle, the heat on high blast.
The door, however, remains open, which doesn’t help warm my feet, but I’m not as frigid as earlier.
I draw them a map, and the SWAT unit prepares to break into the facility.
“Any chance you have another pair of boots in the trunk?” I ask. I want to be part of the team that infiltrates the cartel and ends the fight.
“Shoes? You can’t go tactical wearing that,” Barrett says.
At least I’m still wearing the robe. It’s not the least bit discreet. The flaming red stands out even in the dark, but it’s better than striding around in my underwear.
He pops the trunk and retrieves his standard-issue FBI jacket, and drapes it over my shoulders. “You’re staying here. Warm up, try to relax. You did good out there.”
I don’t feel the least bit good. Mikhail is still in the ring, fighting with Aaron. Assuming one of them hasn’t killed the other one yet.
Every second feels like an hour passes as SWAT tears in through the same entrance where we made our escape.
Luka didn’t heed my advice. He ran back into the chaos, trying to help Mikhail before the FBI arrived. He’s loyal to a fault. Luka had the opportunity to save himself, but instead, he got me out and then went back for his boss.
The raid happens over a matter of minutes, but it goes by in slow motion. Men reappear from the darkened entrance wearing handcuffs, escorted out one at a time by the authorities.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Aaron is arrested. His face is red, his lip bloody, and his eye swollen.
“What are you doing? Get me out of these cuffs!” Aaron argues with one of the SWAT members.
I don’t budge from my position at the edge of the vehicle, the warm air hitting my back, warming me while the cold caresses my cheeks.
“Madisyn, tell them I’m with the FBI and I don’t belong in handcuffs.”
I’m not telling them anything. The bastard deserves to see the inside of a cell.