Page 63 of Donovan Blake: Adrenalin

Before Manny had a chance to defend himself the sinister weapon had been plunged into his chest.

“I don’t do deals with idiots,” Alexi snarled. “I take from them.”

Smashing the glass case holding The Alexandrite Empress, he snatched it up and stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket, then abruptly turned and hurried back to grab the Renoir. With the priceless painting under his arm he stepped over Manny’s body and approached the entrance leading out to the office.

“Help me…” Agent Miller begged as Alexi peered into the room. “P-please…”

Barely glancing at him, Alexi strode swiftly to the door—then paused his step.

Equipment was everywhere.

Where were the agents?

He frowned.

It was too easy.

But throughout his criminal career he’d been nicknamed Lucky Alexi. He always came out on top. Why would this time be any different?

* * *

Standing in the hallway with his back against the wall and his gun drawn, Donovan cautiously approached the door. A team was on its way, but after hearing a horrifying scream and someone continuing to cry out he wasn’t about to wait.

“Phoebe, stay there,” he said softly.

“Do you have another gun?”

“You know how to shoot? Never mind, of course you do. Dammit, I don’t. Just stay put.”

Walking closer to the door, he was about to grip the handle when it turned.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Realizing the office door didn’t open outward into the hall, but into the office, Donovan hastily handed his gun to Phoebe.

“Come when I call,” he whispered. “Not before!”

As she took the revolver Donovan noticed the door begin to move. Quickly positioning himself, he pitched the side of his body against it sending Alexi flying backwards, then lunging forward he landed a powerful punch in the center of the gangster’s face. The man staggered and tried to recover his balance, but Donovan spun around and kicked him in the stomach sending him to the floor. Swiftly scanning the room he saw Agent Miller in dire straits, but kept his focus on the Russian oligarch doubled-over and groaning.

“Come in Phoebe!”

“Oh no, look at Agent Miller!” she exclaimed as she ran to Donovan’s side. “I have to help him.”

“Not yet! Stay behind me and keep your eyes on the entrance to the vault. Manny might still be in there. Hey, Kozlov, where’s Manny Trubello?” Donovan demanded, looming over the incapacitated man.

“Where you should be,” Kozlov rasped. “In hell with that snake Boris.”

“You’ve got three-seconds,” Donovan warned. “Where is he?”

“Three-seconds? Then what?” Alexi panted, holding his stomach.

“Don’t answer me and find out.”

“You’re making a big mistake. I have powerful friends.”

“Yeah, I do too, and one of them is in my hand,” Donovan retorted, taking the gun from Phoebe. “One—”

Alexi muttered something in Russian, then jerked his head toward the vault.

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