Page 105 of Escape Velocity

Chapter Twenty-Three

Behind the man who had raised his gun, Amber pushed herself along the wall toward the table where Tudor had laid his weapon. She saw Max watching her and mouthed, “Stall.”

Max addressed the guard. “Wait. Perhaps we can offer you more than you got from Tudor.”

“Like what?”

“We have a very successful trading operation. And we have jewels that can’t be traced. I can compensate you very well for letting us go.”

Amber could see Max keeping his focus on the man—not her. She reached the table. As quietly as possible, she picked up the beamer.

“And how would I get these jewels?”

“Let us go, and I’ll take you to our ship.”

The guard scoffed. “Nice try.”

As he swung his weapon toward Max, she drilled him from behind, and he dropped to the floor with the others.

For a moment there was utter silence in the room. Then she caught a noise outside that sounded like a herd of running feet.

For a terrible moment she thought more guards were coming. But it wasn’t a contingent of blue uniforms. Instead, men from the Inheritors’ camp poured through the door. They used their beamers to kill the remaining guards. Only when they were all down did they turn to Max and Rafe, attacking their shackles with axes and freeing them from the wall.

“Watch out,” she heard Max warn as they freed him. “There’s one more guy—in the back.”

Two of the Inheritors pounded across the room toward the interior door. It was just opening as the unsuspecting guard pushed a medical table through the opening. They shot him in the chest, and he sprawled on the horizontal surface.

The rescue team worked so fast that Amber barely had time to catch her breath. Her gaze flicked from the invading force to the men lying on the floor. Tudor’s private security force. They had killed a lot of the swamp rats—and now they had gotten the same treatment.

Movement on the other side of the room caught her attention. It was Max, making his way around the pile of bodies. When he reached her, he pulled her to himself. She leaned into him, feeling her knees threatening to give way.

“Is it over?”

“Yes.”

She heard his words, but she was hardly able to believe him. She had lived with this threat hanging over her for so long, and now the man she feared most in the universe was vanquished.

“Thank the fates you’re all right,” Max murmured.

“And you.”

“Let’s get out of this house of horrors.”

He picked up her vest and led her along the side of the room and toward the door.

She twisted around to look back, fixing the scene in her mind. “So many dead.”

Someone behind Max spoke, and she saw it was Gatroux. “They chose to work for an evil man. And they have paid the price.” He turned to Max. “How did you manage it?”

He answered with a harsh laugh. “We didn’t. Tudor had us chained to the wall. And he thought he had a petrified woman under complete control.”

“Then how?” the head man asked.

“He was . . . molesting her . . . and . . .”

Amber slipped on the vest, covering the almost transparent fabric over her breasts. “I had a small knife with me, and I knew that if I didn’t use it, we were all dead.” She pulled the hair ornament free and showed it to him. “The blade was inside this. It’s on the floor next to Tudor. Someone should clean it, then give it back to me.”

“It will be done.” He gave her an appraising look. “My apologies. I didn’t know you had such fortitude.”

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