Page 11 of Belgian Betrayal

She had arranged to meet Sergey on a less busy canal, away from the main thoroughfares crowded with tourists all day and half the night. He was where he said he’d be.

As soon as Catya stepped aboard his refurbished boat with the glossy wooden hull and plush leather seats, she leaned over his shoulder and gave him their destination.

Sergey nodded and drove the boat into the canal, turning at the next watery intersection. As they neared the MX3D bridge, lights shone down on the water from the red-light district. Women stood in windows tempting tourists to stop and gawk or step inside for more sexually satisfying pursuits.

Catya didn’t see the ladies in the windows. Her gaze focused on the walkways and the people crossing the bridges the boat took them under.

When the MX3D bridge came into view, Catya tensed. A small cluster of people seemed to be struggling near the rail. Still too far to make out what was going on, Catya gasped when one individual out of the cluster toppled over the bridge rail and plunged into the water.

“Go!” she urged Sergey, knowing in her gut the person who’d gone over was Fearghas. She shouldn’t have had him meet her in such a public place.

Two of the people he’d been wrestling with, what appeared to be a man and a woman, leaned over the bridge and fired handguns into the water. The third man ran to the end of the bridge and hurried down to the water’s edge, brandishing a pistol.

Tourists and residents screamed and ran.

As Sergey neared the bridge, he pulled back on the throttle and slowed the boat almost to a stop.

Catya pulled her gun from her shoulder holster and aimed at the man near the shore. She took him out in her first shot. He clutched his chest and dropped into the water.

Catya spun toward the two still unloading their weapons into the water below, before they realized somebody had taken out their cohort.

One of her bullets slammed into the woman’s shoulder. Her gun fell from her hand as she staggered backward.

The man ducked below the ridge rail, out of sight.

Sergey gunned the throttle, sending the boat under the bridge.

Catya shoved her gun at Sergey. “Defend yourself.” She quickly shrugged off her jacket and was about to dive into the water when a head popped up beside the boat, and the owner sucked in a breath.

“Catya,” he called out and sank below the surface.

“Fearghas,” she cried out and leaned over the side. She reached into the water, grasping for anything to hold onto.

Her fingers wrapped around his hair and pulled him back to the surface. She tried to grab an arm, but somebody had tied them behind his back. He kicked hard to stay at the surface but couldn’t last long, with heavy clothes weighing him down and without his arms to help him tread water.

Fearghas was too heavy for Catya to haul him up onto the boat. The best she could do was continue to hang over the side and keep his head above water.

Sergey appeared beside her and hooked his hand beneath Fearghas’s arm. Between Sergey and Catya, they hauled him over the side and into the boat.

By then, the boat had drifted out from under the bridge.

Bullets rained down on them from the man on the bridge.

Catya flung her body over Fearghas.

Sergey dove for the throttle and shoved it forward, sending the boat shooting out from beneath the bridge and away from the shooter.

Soon, they were out of range. Sergey only slowed to turn onto another waterway. He kept driving the little boat until they were well away from the attackers. He turned left, right, and left again, twisting and turning through the old city to ensure their attackers didn’t follow them into the maze of canals.

Catya rolled off Fearghas, pulled her knife from the sheath on her hip and cut through the duct tape securing his wrists behind his back. Then she helped him turn over onto his back.

With his hands free, Fearghas pushed to a sitting position and coughed up canal water.

A flood of relief washed over Catya as she stared at the bedraggled Scotsman, her heart swelling with more emotion than she usually allowed herself.

She shook her head. “I told you not to get yourself killed.”

His lips twitched on the corners. “I had everything under control.”

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