Page 42 of Poison Evidence

Could she shoot him?

She hoped to hell she’d never find out.

Air-conditioning was off in this part of the boat, and the stateroom was stiflingly hot. Sweat beaded on her brow and trickled between her breasts, and she wanted to peel off the clothes Dimitri had given her. The pants were too long even for her height. They bunched at the ankles, while the top was loose on her shoulders.

The man kept a spare ninja suit on hand. Dimitri Veselov was so very different from the computer geeks she usually hung out with. They had ninja suits too, but only wore them to gaming cons, while for Dimitri, it appeared to be his work uniform.

She tried to imagine Dimitri at a con. The badass real deal, card-carrying Russian spy.

Jesus, being scared shitless must make her punchy. The man was hunting invaders, and she was fantasizing about taking him to a gamer con.

She stared at the closed hatch above her head. When the alarm went off, she could open it and slip onto the upper deck. There were a series of short ladders on the side of the boat that led to each deck. All attention would be focused aft, and it was dark. She was dressed in her ninja best.

She could climb to the top deck and shoot the Russian.

Could she shoot a man?

Through the headphones, she heard the Syrian’s plans for her.

Yes. Yes, she could.

She tucked the gun in the holster and positioned herself below the hatch, hands at the ready to open it. The moment the alarm sounded, she’d join the fray. No one would expect her; the element of surprise was all hers.

Dimitri crept into his stateroom. Two men were at the back window. They couldn’t see him through the dark tint of the one-way film that covered the glass, but he could see their legs and hear their chatter through the cordless headphones.

He grabbed another gun from a hidden compartment in the nightstand. Too bad the windows were bulletproof, or he’d take them out with two shots. But he could use the thick glass to his advantage.

The paranoid mafioso who’d commissioned the custom-built luxury yacht had feared being trapped, and interior releases had been installed on all stateroom windows.

Dimitri stood on the bed in front of the window. Two terrorists were less than two feet away on the other side of the thick pane.

Timing was everything. One window release was on the lower sill to the left and the other at the top on the right. Flick the release, shove outward, bottom first. The alarm would sound, alerting the Russian on the upper deck.

He’d need both hands on the frame. He tucked his gun into the holster at the small of his back. He’d be armed with nothing but a thick three-by-five bulletproof pane as he engaged two terrorists with guns in their hands.

“First, I’m going to blind the whore. Then I’m going to fuck her like the dog bitch she is.” The words were a soft whisper, carried through the headphones. Dimitri hated that Ivy could hear him.

He’d take out Spiderman first.

“We need the woman alive,” the second Syrian said.

“We might need her eye for a retinal scan,” the Russian added. “No blinding.”

Dimitri held one hand over each window release, like a gunfighter waiting for the signal to draw. He’d know the signal when he heard it.

“I will fuck her while she screams for mercy.”

That was it. Dimitri released the window and pushed out. The alarm blared as the pane dropped into his hands. He rammed the upper edge into the legs of both men standing above.

They tripped backward against the rail and Dimitri launched himself onto the shelf at the head of the bed and through the opening, gripping the window. He let out a bloodcurdling yell as he passed through. He shoved the edge of the thick pane into one man’s face, then the other man’s neck.

One man squeezed off a shot. The glass bucked but held. Dimitri rammed him in the face a second time. The man’s head snapped back, and he tumbled over the rail into the water.

Dimitri was out on the deck now, exposed from behind. He kicked the remaining man in the chest as he spun on instinct and used the glass as a shield.

Three bullets hit the pane in rapid succession, fired by the Russian.

Behind him, the second Syrian splashed into the water. Now it was just him and the Russian.

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