Page 75 of Belgian Betrayal

The man Catya had kicked out of the chopper stood, pointing a gun at the helicopter, seemingly unaware of the van barreling toward him.

The gunman fired, the bullet pinging against the fuselage not far from the open door.

Before he could fire another round, the van plowed into him, throwing him fifteen feet across the lawn. He didn’t get up.

Fearghas nodded. “Good riddance.”

“Shut down the engine,” Catya told the pilot.

He complied.

Catya gave one last squeeze and then released her hold on the man. “Don’t do anything stupid, or I will tase your ass. Now, get out.”

The pilot climbed out of the helicopter, holding his hands in the air.

Hank, Ace, Jasmine and Dmytro piled out of the van.

Hank and Ace ran toward the chopper. Jasmine and Dmytro headed for the Deputy Prime Minister.

Blackhurst raised his hands in the air. “Lord Stanhope went crazy. He tried to kidnap me.”

Fearghas stepped down from the helicopter and turned to help Catya to the ground, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve never been more frightened in my life. Are you all right?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I am now.”

“Where’s Stanhope?” Hank asked as they came abreast of Fearghas and Catya.

Catya tipped her head toward the man lying on the floor of the chopper.

“Is he dead?” Hank asked, walking over to the man.

“No,” Catya said. “Just living a taste of his own medicine.” She held up the taser. “I think I’ll keep this as a souvenir.”

Fearghas chuckled. “As long as you don’t use it on me. Careful where you aim that thing.”

She looked for a place to tuck the device. “Why do they make women’s clothes without pockets?” Giving up, she dropped the device on the ground and wrapped her arms around Fearghas’s neck. “We did it.”

“Yes, we did,” he said and kissed her.

“What about Sykes?” Ace asked. “Did he get away?”

“Not quite,” a feminine voice called out from the edge of the garden. Cassandra Miles, her hair in disarray, her dress torn and stained, pushed Walter Sykes in front of her, his wrists secured behind his back, a bruise forming on his forehead and sporting a bloody, busted lip. “He was heading for the helicopter and didn’t quite make it.”

Fearghas shook his head. “How did you take down a man who weighs more than you and is a trained combatant? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“I was fortunate enough to find an equalizer. The gardener left a shovel lying among the hydrangeas.” She gave a crooked grin and glanced down at her hand. “Damn. I broke a nail.”

Fearghas laughed.

Catya frowned. “Isn’t she with them?”

“She assures me she is not. She was tasked by the king to find out what his Deputy Prime Minister was up to and report back to him.”

“But the disk was accessed at her IP address,” Catya said, her frown deepening.

Cassandra’s brow dipped. “What disk?”

“The one they killed to recover.”

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