Page 116 of Lethal Alliance

She catches my hand. “What about you?”

I squeeze her fingers. “I’m fine, baby. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

But Ofelia must be able to read the lie in my eyes, because her fingers slide from mine and she turns away, drawing the jacket around her and Masha.

I want to say more. Say something she will remember. But there’s no time.

There’s no fucking time.

“Hold them off. We’re coming.” Mak’s voice is reassuringly calm in my ear. I know his team will be coming as hard as they can.

I also know there’s not much chance I’ll still be alive when they get here.

I take cover behind a tree off to the right and start shooting.

The black-clad guys are barely three hundred yards away. I pick off three of them before their bullets start hitting the trunk beside my face.

Hold on.

I breathe deeply, making every shot count.

The closest of the attackers is almost two hundred yards out, and I can’t get a shot amid the covering fire from the men behind him.

At least the fire is aimed at me and not the girls.

Fuck.

It can’t end like this. Not hiding in a fucking suburban park, with my girls cowering under a tree they should be playing beneath.

No.

Fuck that.

Suddenly I am ten years old again, running through the darkened streets, entirely alone in this world.

I will not abandon my children to the darkness Darya and I were forced to live.

I won’t let them watch me die here. I won’t leave them alone, facing the world with no protector.

I won’t let them inherit the lethal legacy we have all been forced to suffer for.

I turn on the spot, my decision made, and race back to the tree.

Ofelia stares up at me, Masha’s face buried in her chest. “You came back,” she breathes. “You came back for us.”

“I promised,” I say roughly, scooping her up before she has a chance to protest. “Masha. Can you run?”

She nods silently, her eyes wide.

“Okay, then.” I nod at the tree line ahead of us. “There’s a boat on the other side of those trees. That’s where we have to go,myshka. Come on.” We race for the tree line, Ofelia’s arms around my neck, Masha’s little legs pounding determinedly beside me. “That’s it, sweetheart,” I pant, catching a glimpse of the water through the trees. “The boat is right there. We’re nearly safe. My brave girls. We can do it.”

A bullet hits my right shoulder just as we burst free of the trees. Then another one hits my side, missing Ofelia by inches.

I stumble, but I can see the inflatable coming toward us. My arms tighten around Ofelia, and I will my grip to hold long enough to get her there.

You can make it.

“Papa!” Ofelia’s face is stricken.

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