Page 116 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

I’d trained for that the way I trained for everything.

With no hesitation, I leapt onto his back and wrapped my right arm around his throat, using my left to apply more pressure. Manual strangulation was a bitch. Theynever went down fast the way they did in the movies. Sometimes they yelled, sometimes they bit, sometimes they clawed you to pieces. Thankfully, this guy went for option three, and he had short nails.

I clung on with my arms but not my legs, using my full body weight to pull the makeshift noose tighter around his throat. After what seemed like forever, but in reality probably wasn’t long at all, he crumpled to the ground.

A quick search through his pockets brought better news than last time—he carried a knife. It was bigger than his dick, so like three inches long, but size didn’t matter when it came to slitting a man’s throat. Unless we were talking machetes. You could take a dude’s head right off with one of those. I wiped the blood off the blade on his pants and pocketed my new toy.

Two down, four to go. I hadn’t heard any noise from Cole, but nor had I heard a gunshot, so I had to take that as a good sign.

Another rustle, and I went after target number three. It was the guy with what I now saw was an AR-15. Quite a nice one. Whatever these shitbirds were up to, it obviously paid good money. But like his comrades, he was poorly trained, and the gun was slung over his back, the strap hanging crosswise across his body.

In a throwback to number two, I leapt on his back, grabbed the strap with both hands, and pulled it tight across his neck. Unfortunately, I caught him a little too much by surprise and he fell over backward, trapping me underneath him. I was fairly sure the butt of the rifle broke a rib.

Motherfucker.

But no pain, no gain, right?

Those three inches of steel slipped between his fourth and fifth ribs like a red-hot poker through butter. It wasn’tlong before he began gargling blood, which trickled all over me.

Fabulous.

As if playing assassin in a bikini weren’t bad enough, now I was accessorising with haemoglobin.

But at least I had a gun, and the thirty-round magazine was still full. Nothing in the chamber. Sloppy. For completeness’ sake, I checked his pockets and found a ChapStick, a roll of mints, and a bunch of keys. Keys to what? Was one for the boat? The other three were smaller, and they didn’t look like house keys. Padlock keys?

The padlock on the sally port?

Was that why they’d come here? Did they have access to the prison?Whydid they need access to the prison? I sincerely hoped I hadn’t killed a bunch of government officials.

No, government officials wouldn’t show up with an AR-15. They wouldn’t hold a gun on a man asking for help. They’d bring clipboards, checklists, and officious attitudes.

I stayed still for a moment. Breathed steadily. Took stock of the situation. There were three men left, at least one with Cole and potentially two in the wind. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure flit past a second-floor window inside the barracks, just for a second, and then he was gone. They were still searching. The big question: was Barracks Dude alone?

I stayed still and watched.

When there was no sign of a friend, I took a chance and ran across the courtyard, then slipped inside through the broken front door. There was only one staircase in the barracks, two half-flights with a landing in the middle. All I had to do was tuck myself into the nook beneath the lowest flight and wait for him to walk into my loving arms.

He did precisely that a minute later.

I’d been in two minds whether to shoot him. On the onehand, it was quick and easy, but on the other hand, if the men holding Cole heard a gunshot, would they assume I was dead?

And if they assumed I was dead, would they decide they had no use for Cole anymore?

In the end, my fourth victim made the decision for me. He jogged down the stairs, coming fast, and from the heaviness of the footsteps, he was a big man. I wasn’t going to risk my safety by making this more difficult than it had to be. Cole would be in trouble either way.

One shot was all it took. Number four flinched as he saw me emerge from the shadows, but it was too little, too late. I aimed for centre mass, then kept my finger poised above the trigger as he tumbled down the last few stairs and landed in a heap at the bottom.

Hurriedly, I tucked him out of sight, but there wasn’t much I could do about the blood trail. I’d have to dispatch the last two men PDQ.

Time to head for the harbour.

CHAPTER 41

COLE

“Idon’t know where she is, I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

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