Page 43 of Poison Evidence

It was just light enough in the predawn to see the glass held, but was opaque in the middle, where it had fractured. Through the top of his shield, he could see the Russian had moved to the aft end of the upper deck.

He couldn’t hesitate, or the Russian would have the upper hand. He charged, leaping onto the deck that was the roof of the stateroom he’d just been inside.

The Russian kept firing, and Dimitri kept coming, leaping to the next deck in one bound. He lunged at the Russian, shoving the man’s gun upward with the crazed shield. The gun hit the Russian’s chin. Dimitri leaned on the shield, applying hard, fast pressure on the fingers wrapped around the hair trigger. The bullet entered the Russian’s brain through his palate and took out the top of his head.

With one last shove, Dimitri pushed him over the rail, dropping the man into the ocean before his blood could stain the deck.

He dropped the shield and leaned his head on the railing as he caught his breath. Adrenaline coursed through him. Fight-or-flight had kicked in, but the fight was over, and he never chose flight.

He should return to the stern and make sure the two Syrians weren’t coming back. He thought he’d snapped one’s neck but needed to be certain.

“Dimitri?”

He lifted his head and turned. Ivy stood several feet behind him, holding his Sig, pointed right at his chest.

He felt the blood drain from his brain as he gazed into her eyes in the dim predawn light.

He should have seen this coming. He’d known the risks when he handed her the gun. But he hadn’t believed she’d do it.

Steel orchid with brass balls, that was Ivy MacLeod. She could teach some former KGB agents he knew a thing or two about tenacity.

He raised his hands. Full surrender. It was probably better this way. He was a killer. He couldn’t get away from it no matter how hard he tried. Proof was floating in the water below him.

And if he were dead—for real with proof this time—Sophia and Yulian would be freed. He’d struck a deal, his life for Sophia and Yulian’s freedom. Did it matter who took his life in the end? Plus, while his handlers were far from honorable, there was no need to keep his sister prisoner without Dimitri to control.

Fight-or-flight again. But he would never fight Ivy.

“Do it,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Her hands shook. She held the gun for another second or hour—time stretched like it did in the heat of battle, so it was hard to tell—then she lowered the weapon and rolled her shoulders. “We need to make sure the others are dead or gone.”

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed, but he took the stay of execution and jumped through the opening in the rail to the next deck down, landing on the roof of his stateroom. Before he’d gone two steps toward the lower walkway where he’d shoved the men overboard, something thumped against the stern.

Ivy was right behind him and he held out an arm to halt her.

“What is it?”

“Shhh,” he said. There it was again, another thump…and a sound that turned his stomach.

“Stay here,” he said and pulled his gun as he crossed to the stern, looking down to the water.

He lowered his gun. The Syrians weren’t a threat anymore. A small mercy, they were either unconscious or already dead. Otherwise, they would be screaming.

“What is it?” Ivy repeated.

“Sharks,” he said.

Horror spread through Ivy even as she acknowledged a feeling of relief. She’d heard what the one terrorist wanted to do to her.

She stared at Dimitri’s back. She’d shocked herself when she pointed the gun at him.

The fight had been fast and furious, and she’d only just made it to the upper deck and pulled the gun when she’d witnessed Dimitri’s efficient and brutal disposal of the Russian.

She’d been prepared to shoot the Russian, but he was gone and Dimitri was in her sights, and for a moment, she saw a way out of this mess.

If she shot him, she could takeLibertyback to Koror. She could hand CAM over to whatever US military official wanted it and hightail it home. Without CAM, no one would be after her. She wouldn’t be guilty of aiding and abetting a Russian spy.

But there stood Dimitri, the man who’d just risked his life to protect her. The man who’d just killed on her behalf. He’d…not even flinched at the idea of her shooting him. He’d just accepted it.

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