Page 106 of Power's Fall

But later…

Later, he’d make sure she understood all the way to the core that she was absolutely, positively everything they needed her to be.

“You were never driving us out of here,” Vadisk said. “You wouldn’t hit someone with a car.”

“What?” Dahlia sounded both confused and mildly offended.

Vadisk grinned, kissed her hard and fast, then grabbed Montana and kissed him too.

Hell, maybe they would survive because Vadisk sure as shit made him feel that way.

“Ready?” Vadisk asked.

Montana hauled Sinaver out of the chair, wrapped his fist in the collar of the man’s shirt, and put a gun to his head. “Ready.”

“Gun up, Dahlia. Look like you’re ready to kill someone.”

“Iamready to kill someone,” she muttered.

Vadisk pressed his back to the wall beside the door and started yelling. The pounding stopped and a second later, someone shouted back.

Dahlia stood on her toes to whisper in Montana’s ear. “Can you turn off the power or make an alarm go off or something?”

He nodded. “Yes. Put your gun to his head.”

Dahlia exhaled slowly and raised her arm, the barrel of her gun against Sinaver’s ear, though her finger wasn’t on the trigger. Montana kept hold of the man with one hand but tucked his gun away so he could grab his phone.

“You’re about to have proof that we’re in control,” Dahlia told Sinaver.

Vadisk shot them a smile.

“Say when,” Montana ordered.

Vadisk yelled something, then nodded at Montana. He activated an internal door alarm, then flicked all the lights off. He counted to five, then turned the alarm off and the lights on again.

There was a bit more yelling, and Vadisk motioned him forward. Montana positioned Sinaver by the door, and Vadisk opened it.

The small group in the hall stared at their helpless leader, then started to back up as Vadisk shouted orders.

“Once we start moving, I want you to hold on to his arm and put your gun against his ribs,” Montana told Dahlia. “Stay as close to him as you can.”

“So they don’t shoot me?”

“Exactly.”

“And what about Vadisk? We can’t all use Sinaver as a human shield.”

“We have to trust that if someone tries to shoot him, Vadisk will shoot them first.”

Vadisk motioned them forward, and Montana slowly pushed Sinaver out into the hall. The militia were on their knees, guns on the ground. At Vadisk’s order, Dahlia started picking them up, her arms piled with weapons in a way that made Montana’s eye twitch.

Dahlia darted back into the office, emerging only seconds later holding the garbage can—now full of guns—in one arm. She went back to Sinaver’s side, her own gun pressed to his ribs.

Then they started for the exit.

There was one tense moment when a man jumped out from behind the stairs as they were on their way down, gun raised, but Vadisk, who was three steps up, kicked his hand in a lightning-fast move that sent the gun cartwheeling through the air. The distinct crack that accompanied the kick made Montana think Vadisk had broken either the man’s hand or his wrist.

They made it outside, where the laundry van waited, back doors still open.

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