Page 37 of Ruby Menace

The room within is a picture of devastation. Furniture is splintered, cushion stuffing blown about, and within all the chaos lie the dead and dying. I pick my way through the debris, aware of the sounds of Dima and the others moving in behind me.

I step over bodies and torn limbs, my boots crunching on broken glass and into slick blood. The acrid smell of smoke and gunpowder fills the air, but that’s not what has my attention right now. I’m looking for clues. Signs of where they might be holding her – because everything inside me says that she’s here.

Where is she dammit?

Where?

And then, she screams.

I’d recognize her voice anywhere, the sound puncturing my chest like an armor-piercing round. She screams again, and all I can focus on is that sound echoing through the building. My heart pounds, and a red haze descends over my vision.

“Spread out!” I bark to the others, who disperse into the bowels of the building, trying to pinpoint the source her her screams.

I charge down the hallway, my gun at the ready. I hear the sound of footsteps ahead, and I round the corner, firing without hesitation. An armed man crumples to the ground, a bullet hole between his eyes. I don’t even have a recollection of aiming, my body moves on instinct born from years of fighting. I keep sprinting forward, my senses on high alert.

Another scream pierces the air. It’s intelligible this time.

“Kirill!”

Hearing her call my name is like lighting a fuse attached to a powder keg. I zone in on the sound like a homing beacon, weaving through the corridors of the office block.

Seeing that I’ve picked a path, Dima falls in behind me.

“Boss!” he warns me a moment before a volley of bullets pours from one of the offices leading into the hall.

My body moves on instinct, a predatory growl ripping from my throat as I leap to the side, my Tokarev barking out a stream of lead. The man who’d opened fire on me falls back, his chest a bloody ruin. I don’t stop to check if he’s dead. I’m already moving, ducking into a nearby doorway. I poke my head around the doorframe only to be greeted by a shower of gunfire.

Checking the empty clip in my pistol, I quickly replace it, then glance behind me to see that Dima has taken cover in an office further down. I meet his eye with a nod, silently pointing in the direction of the shooter before circling a finger over my head. He frowns in response, understanding that I’m asking him to throw cover while I attack; it’s madness, but he knows better than to resist. I’m going in regardless. We’re already losing precious seconds that could be costing Tiana her life. Her captors know we’re on our way, and they’re going to resort to desperate measures.

Without wasting another moment, I crouch low and exhale, waiting for Dima’s volley of gunshots. When they come, I fling myself forward, keeping low as I cover ground in fast steps. I dive to the floor and slide the last few feet on my belly, skidding to a halt and twisting as I reach the doorway. The fucker lurking there has less than a millisecond to stare down at me in alarm before I swing my arm up and put a bullet beneath his chin, taking the top of his head off.

I leap to my feet, seeing that I’ve left a broad smear of blood on the beige linoleum floor as I slide across it. I glance down at my bicep, which is pissing blood through a tear in my shirt. That gives me a moment to frown – I hadn’t even felt the slug that clipped me. It hasn’t affected my ability to move, so I ignore it, running forward again.

“Boss, wait!” Dima shouts after me, but I don’t listen. I’m too far gone, too consumed by rage and apprehension over what I’m going to find when I get to her.

My haste is foolish because it leads me straight into the path of an oncoming gunman. Still running full tilt, I raise my weapon, squeeze the trigger, and hit him center of mass, but not before I feel a flare of white-hot pain as a round sears past my ribs, ripping flesh on its way.

Blyad!

I clasp a hand over the wound, scowling at myself for being so impulsive. The next round might hit something vital, and then I won’t be of any use to anyone. I pause, leaning back against the wall as I take stock of my injuries; nothing life-threatening, but I am going to feel the blood loss at some point. I check my weapon, keeping my fingers clear of the barrel that’s hot as fuck after several minutes of consistent firing.

I aim quick glances up and down the hallway, seeing only Dima in my wake before I set off again in the direction the screams had come from.

“Kirill!” The next scream comes from a door barely five yards away. I hit it at a run, crashing through it and into the room beyond. The sight that greets me is like a blow to the chest.

Tiana is there, tied to a chair, her dress stripped open and her face twisted in terror. And standing behind her, a sneer on his face, is a wiry fucker with a blade to her throat.

“Well, well,” he says, his tone dripping with malice. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

I take a step forward, my gun still raised, but he draws a line across her throat with the blade. Beads of blood trickle immediately, and I stop at once, frozen in place.

“I wouldn’t do that, Vyronov,” he sneers.

“Let her go.” My jaw clenches as I hold myself back.

“Why? So you can kill me? She’s my ticket out of here.” He eyes the door.

“There’s no way out of here. I’m going to kill you, whichever way you look at it.”

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